Archive of Our Own

Varka had seen you in a dream, once.

Yeah. A dream.

In it, you would have arrived in Mondstadt after his battle with Dvalin, hiding quietly in the shade with Albedo while the rest of the town celebrated. You would have turned down many an offer to drink from the other knights, never leaving your little corner no matter how insistent they'd be. It'd take Varka making eye contact during a drinking contast and choking for you to finally smile.

It'd take Varka stiffly introducing himself to you (with a little help from Albedo and a lot of encouraging from Klee) to finally bring you into the mix.

He would ask for your hand a month later. You would laugh and accept without hesitation.

Now, when Varka sees you in Natlan, his chest aches with longing for a life he never had.

"Can I help you?"

Varka blinks. Somehow, you'd walked right up to him without realizing it. A rather terrifying set of horns sprout from your head, a Dendro Vision hanging from one tip. Another bauble that reminds him of the Hexenzirkel's mark hangs from the opposite ear, matching the charm that hangs from the tip of a reptilian tail. "Ah, forgive me," he says after a moment. "I was just...confused."

"Oh?" You cock your head, your accessories swaying wildly. "About what?"

Though your tone is curious, your face is nothing but cold indifference. It makes Varka laugh out of nervous instinct.

"Well, you won't believe me if I told you!" he says. When your stare does not waver, he clears he throat and admits, "I just...I think I've seen you before."

"Me?" Your eyes flit from his feet to his face, expression unchanging. "From where?"

Varka winces. "It, uh...is going to sound even more ridiculous, but in a dream."

"A...dream," you echo.

"Yeah, a dream," he repeats, and maybe just staring at you for so long is screwing with his brain, because he ends up adding, "and I know it was you because you look just as beautiful as I remember."

Which is the truth, and Varka is pretty confident that's what he said to you during his vows, but he's sober enough to know to not say that part out loud. He just forces himself to sit with the embarrassment currently burning at his chest while you stare him down.

Then, just when he thinks he's about to combust, you let out a little laugh that steals the air right out of his lungs. "That sounds like a wonderful dream," you say, expression softening ever so slightly. "Though I'm afraid I do not share the pleasure, sir..."

Varka perks up, fist over his heart as he smiles. "Grandmaster Varka of the Knights of Favonius, at your service."

"Grandmaster Varka...I see." You nod, a smile on your face that has the knight flushing like a young boy all over again. "Unfortunately, sir knight, I have yet to dream of you, so you'll need to try a bit harder before using that line on me again."

"Ah, so there is a chance?" Varka almost beams when you let out another laugh, reigning himself in just enough to continue. "Well, how about we try again over some drinks, hm? I promise you won't regret it."

There's a flash of discomfort in your eye that almost has him apologizing, but it disappears in a blink. "Your offer just lost me a bet with a mutual acquaintance of ours, so I'm afraid I'll have to decline." With a curt nod, your expression smooths over into one of cold indifference. "But I'm glad to know you're the same as ever, my love."

"Huh?" Before Varka can react, your hand flies out from your coat. With a single snap of your finger, the knight feels a sharp pain bloom behind his eyes. He grits his teeth and tries to shake it off. After some harsh kneading to the temple, the pressure finally fades, and he finds himself standing before a stranger.

A beautiful stranger. One he could've sworn he'd seen before in his dreams.

...

All it takes is Varka to meet your stare to know he's done for.

It isn't exactly warm or friendly. Quite the opposite, in fact. Across the room, standing on your own while Alice hums over her tea, your expression is pure indifference, as if he were as interesting as the stacks of paperwork awaiting him on his desk. Alice had said you weren't technically one of the witches (despite begging for you to join, she said), so he wasn't sure why you're here, nor what he did to receive such a cold shoulder.

He still isn't, really, but it doesn't matter, because if you hadn't been here, Varka never would have seen you and felt his heart do things he's only heard bards sing about.

"Varka, dear, you're drooling."

Varka's arm flies up to his face, only to feel dry skin. The gesture makes Alice laugh over her teacup, but it doesn't hurt as much as how you look the other way, clearly uninterested. "What is he doing here, Miss Alice?"

"Oh, did Barbie not tell you?" Alice says in a tone that would have felt mocking coming from anyone else. "Our little Grandmaster won the right to peer into her scryglass."

The reminder stills Varka's heart, only to thrash all the harder when you look him over. The instinct to puff his chest is undeniable, to lift his chin and show that he's exactly the Grandmaster everyone believes he is. After a moment, though, you just tut and flick your draconic tail. "And you came to the Hexenzirkel..."

Right. He isn't trying to prove himself to a (beautiful) stranger. He's already done what he has to. So he clears his throat, head bowed politely as he says, "I came here to humbly request their aid while the Knights are away on their expedition."

Manners dictate that he keep his head bowed - he is, after all, asking some very powerful people for some very big favors. Barbeloth won't be so willing after 'doing her part' with the scryglass. He's heard about this…'Nicole', but Alice said she took her role of observer and guide seriously and rarely interfered. Albedo's teacher is a no-go and Octavia never sticks around, leaving Alice as his best option.

...Unless you're willing to lend a hand, but from the way you're staring at him, he doubts you'd want to go anywhere near the nation he calls home. And, frankly, you are a stranger. As much as he'd love to get to know you, he has bigger problems on the horizon.

A bright laugh snaps Varka from his thoughts. Alice hides her smile behind her fingers, eyes shut and blissfully unaware of the unamused stare you're sending her way. "And you doubted he would go!"

"I never doubted him," you say calmly. Your cold expression finally seems to soften, though it seems more from exhaustion than anything. "If I did, I never would have bothered coming back."

Varka's chest tightens at the sight, but try as he might, he cannot place it. His head, his mind, his chest. It feels like trying to pick up a tankard and nearly hitting yourself in the face with it because you thought it'd be full when it turns out you'd already finished it. "Do I...know you?"

Alice stops laughing. Your eyes widen.

It only draws Varka in further, stumbling forward before he can stop himself. "I know you," he blurts out, voice weak. "I-I don't know how, or where, but I swear I'd..." He brows furrow as he reaches out a hand. "I'd never forget someone as beautiful as you."

Your breath catches, mouth faltering as your expression crumples. It almost makes Varka apologize - just the thought of making you cry makes his entire chest ache. If you actually start crying because of something he said, he might just die then and there.

Finally, in a whisper, you say, "I can't do this." You frown, turning so stiffly he wonders if you're forcing yourself to look away. "It's…I don't want to hurt him."

"Dearest, I doubt you could hurt him no matter how hard you try." Alice waggles her finger towards Varka. "Look at him, head over heel from just a single glance. It'd probably hurt more if you didn't tell him the truth."

"But he isn't-" You shut your eyes, face tight. Just as Varka reaches out, your expression settles into the same cold indifference as before. You turn on your toes, back to the knight and missing the disappointment on Alice's face as you say, "I'm leaving."

"Off to Sumeru?" Alice asks. At your nod, she smiles. "I wish you the best of luck with your research. Say hi to Nicole for me!"

Then you vanish in a pop of light, taking Varka's breath with you. That doesn't stop his mind from racing, replaying your words and your expression as if to etch it into his mind. He knows you, he swears it, but try as he might, the rest of it slips through his fingers like air.

"Always so stubborn. Don't they know how much easier this would be if they didn't insist on dying alone?" Alice sighs before offering the knight a thin smile. "I'm sure you must have questions."

Varka's mouth falls open, but no sound comes out beyond a strangled, "They're dying?"

Alice's smile twitches. "Oh, that's not good." With a snap of her fingers, a burst of fireworks erupts in Varka's eyes, entire body listing as he groans. When he squints through the pain, he finds himself standing before Alice and her clever smile. "Feeling better?"

Varka only groans harder and grips his temple. "What...happened?"

"Nothing, dearie," Alice says, giggling. "You came here to ask for advice on traveling to Nod-Krai, and I offered you some of Sumeru's finest incense for you to sample while I drew up a map."

Travel? Sumeru? What-Oh. Oh! Varka shakes out his head, stuffing down the strange bitterness in his chest. "Right, right!  Apologies, guess my mind got away from me for a second there." He clears his throat and eyes the map Alice offers to him. "You said that the safest port to leave would be from Bayda Harbor..."

...

Varka sees a beautiful stranger all alone at a packed bar in Sumeru and finally understands just why so many of his men love to sneak out and 'meet the locals.'

Though, he doesn't think you're truly a local - he'd recognize Mondstadt's wings around any Vision, and yours hangs freely from your horn. Not only that, but a Hexenzirkel's charm hangs from your ear and the tip of your draconic tail. Clearly, you must be someone of interest to have gained the mages' attention.

It only spurs Varka on, desire now twinged with a nasty blend of curiosity and longing. You don't seem to be in the conversational mood, if the hunched back and tense shoulders are anything to go by. Hell, from how glassy and unfocused your eyes look, you might startle if he touches you, so he plays it safe and takes the empty stool two spaces away. 

"Whatever they're having," he says when the harried bartender sees him and jerks his thumb towards you, "and make it double."

In his peripherals, he sees your head lift. It's his favorite trick to use: easy conversation starter with plenty of space to back out if it goes south. Half the time, Varka manages to get the stranger to cry in his arms while leaking valuable intelligence. Other times, it starts a bar fight that he (usually) wins. He's not sure what you'll do, but when he looks your way, you're staring back with cool indifference.

"You sure about that?" you ask. "Doubt you'll like the taste."

Varka puffs up immediately, both out of wounded pride and awe at the sound of your voice. "Hey, I'm not a picky drinker. Good booze is good booze."

You lift a brow, clearly unimpressed. When the bartender sets down a glass of vibrant, frothy pink liquid in front of you, you just turn back with a shrug. "If you say so."

Varka turns to his own serving, mouth watering. The vivid color and sweet scent speak of its fruity base, salt clinging to the rim. Social convention dictates that he just chug, rotating the glass so that the alcohol washes the salt into his mouth. However, in the corner of his eye, he sees something dart from your lips. When he focuses, you're already taking a sip.

So he follows your example. One strong lick, relax the back of the throat, aaaaaand...

Varka only swallows once before setting his drink down, body burning with disappointment. "That's just a smoothie!"

A soft laugh sounds at his side, barely audible over the general hum of the crowd. When he turns, there's a soft curl in the corner of your mouth that turns his disappointment into embarrassment. "Told you you wouldn't like it."

Varka forces down the heat coiling in his chest, instead sighing dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. That's on me." He picks up the not-alcoholic beverage anyways, swirling out of habit. "Not that it's bad, it's refreshing, actually. I was just-"

"Expecting something stronger?" You lift your head fully, turning to eye the knight over as your tail flicks. "Is that the kind of impression I give you, sir knight? A heavy drinker?"

"Eh, well, given the wings you got on you?" Varka nods towards the Dendro Vision hanging from your horns. "Kind of."

Your little smile wavers, almost growing before you hide it away with another drink. "Sorry to disappoint, then," you say once you finish. "My husband did enough drinking for the both of us."

For a moment, Varka's mind stalls on husband?,before the rest of it catches up. "He a Mondstadter, too?"

Your glass hovers at your mouth for a moment before you finally say, "He's dead."

Whatever momentum the conversation had breaks, and he manages a quiet, "My condolensces," before returning to his drink. The smoothie burns on the way down.

"...Don't be. We had our time together. That's all I could have asked for." You swirl your glass with a practiced flourish, tossing the last of your drink in a single, quiet gulp. The thud your glass makes when it hits the counter sounds like thunder in his ears. It's clear you're debating something from the way your mouth twitches, and Varka forces himself to sit still and wait.

Finally, when you look up, he is rewarded with the most beautiful song.

"Hah…ahaha-" You hunch over, trying to hide your face in the crook of your arm as laughter spills from your mouth. It quakes your shoulders, bounces your chest, wrings tears out of your eyes as you struggle to breathe. And by Barbatos is it infectious.

"Wh-What happened?" he says, smile curling as you struggle to sit up. "Did I get some on me?"

"N-No, I just-" You only manage to meet his gaze for a second before your crack again, drowning out the din of the bar around you. "Maybe, heh, just a little."

Varka beams now, twitching his upper lip dramatically. "Aw, c'mon, I think I could rock a pink 'stache. It'd really sell the grizzled, lone wolf kind of thing I got going on."

All you get out is, "Lone wolf?!" before doubling your laughter. The force of it has you tilting towards him, and Varka leans over out of instinct to catch you before you tip right off your seat. Your grip is shockingly tight on his shoulder. It makes him beam - to be leaned on, to support you. It warms something deep within his chest, as if he'd truly downed the strongest of spirits.

But it cools as your laughter turns to coughs.

"Woah, woah, hey!" He soothes your back as you hunch over, burying your mouth in your palm. Did something go down the wrong pipe? "Careful," he tries to tease. "Don't want me giving you the heimleich. Trust me, I've broken a few ribs doing it."

It's supposed to be a joke, but your coughing only grows worse. Between your gasps, he makes out a weak, "W-Water…"

"Water, right." Varka sits up, scanning the bar. His and your drinks are already empty. The bartender is already shuttling a tray drinks to a table of students at the other end of the bar.

The knight grits his teeth, nearly reaching over the counter to grab you some water when he smells it. Just a hint, almost blending in with the booze and laughter, but still enough to make the knight's instincts bristle. Pooling in your palm, dripping between trembling fingers, is a splotch of fresh blood.

Varka's grip goes slack. As you start to sit up, he feels something scratching at the recesses of his mind. It claws at his throat, tears at his numb tongue until all he can say is, "You're dying…"

Your breath hitches, and you pull out of the knight's arms as you say, "No. I'm fine. Don't…Don't worry about me."

You say as much, but the tears that spill down your cheek say otherwise. You seem to notice, too, because you grab the faded edge of your cloak and scrub at your face like you're trying to reach bone.

The desperation only worsens the clawing behind his chest. It drives under his ribs, burrowing a hole straight through his lungs. He doesn't know what he wants to say, but tears are spilling down your face and he's sorry. He didn't mean to make you cry. He didn't mean to make you do this, to go through all of this alone. If it makes it easier, he wants to say, then hate him. Hate him with all your heart. He loved you, he loves you, and he's so so sorry for making you do this-

Snap!

Varka blinks, groaning as his vision starts to refocus. There's a pair of empty drinks next to his forehead, and when he sits up, he watches a single Mora twirl before colliding with the rest of the pile. It more than enough to cover…whatever he drank.

"Man…" Varka kneads at his temples, almost impressed. When was the last time he blacked out with such little to drink? Fifteen…no, nearly seventeen years ago. Maybe? Whatever. The knight whistles, lifting the empty glass at the bartender. "And make it double, if you please."

...

The battlefield is no place to fall in love. Especially not in the thick of this stifling miasma the locals call the Wild Hunt.

And yet you come flying in out of nowhere, skewering the monster with a polearm like it's cotton. You ride the momentum all the way down, crushing its chest as you tear your polearm free. Another lunges from behind and is swatted aside by a scaled tail sprouting underneath your cloak. Your wrist twists, polearm floating in your grip. It's almost hypnotic watching you work, and Varka is only snapped out of your spell when you chuck the polearm at his face and take out the monster sneaking up behind him.

As courteous as he probably should be, Varka just shouts, "YOU COME HERE OFTEN?!"

You just recall your polearm to your side and shout back, "CAN YOU FOCUS, PLEASE?!"

With you present, the Wild Hunt doesn't stand a chance. In minutes, the territory is cleared, and Varka retrieves the package from his coat, spiking it into the sand. On the rebound, the machine unfolds itself, clanks and whirs and spitting smoke until it finally kicks to life - a mock Tideseal Stone, flooding the beach with the glow of kuuvahki. It's only temporary, designed to disperse the Wild Hunt until the Lightkeepers can come and do a proper sweep of the area. He'd already cleared out three on his own while the rest of the Knights take out the west and north.

"There we go…we should be good for now." Varka sighs, dropping onto his behind. It almost feels like he's back on the shores of Cider Lake on the first day of Spring. The smell isn't quite the same, but he still smiles your way. "Thanks for the help, stranger-" His eyes dart up. He's met a handful of the Frostmoon Scions, but he doubts they'd wear the wings of Mondstadt or the mark of the Hexenzirkel so proudly on their person. He clears his throat and amends, "Erm, Mage."

Your brows furrow, but whatever you're about to say is interrupted by a wave of coughs. You shield yourself with your cloak until it subsides, rasping, "I'm not one of them, but…" You clear your throat and straighten, looking a little worse for wear. "You're welcome."

Varka nods slowly, digging through his coat once more as you step closer to the contraption. Fifteen minutes, he decides. He's been on his feet since sundown clearing out the beach and his body is throbbing with pain, but he knows an easy fix.

His fingers graze metal, pop the lid, and bring the flask to his lips without a single thought. Ah. Still fresh.

"Is that Fire-Water?"

He blinks, heart fluttering as he lowers his flask. "How'd you know?"

"I can smell it," you say, tapping the tip of your nose. "I never imagined a Mondstadter would carry it in their personal flask, though."

"Haha, yeah, me neither," Varka chuckles. "Thing is, my men were down to last barrel of Dandelion Wine, and what kind of Grandmaster would I be if I drank it all and left my fellow man high and dry?" He shakes his flask to hear what droplets he has left. "Though, I might start going through withdrawal faster than I hoped."

It draws a quiet laugh out of you, trailing off in a pained cough. "How noble, sir knight," you say with a smile. "No wonder the other mages speak so fondly of you."

"Well, I was hoping they liked me because of my stunning good looks and my steadfast beliefs, but that works too." Varka preens as another laugh escapes you. "How about you, though? Am I making a good first impression?"

Your laughter fades, but your smile lingers and soothes every ache in his body. "Given that I found you running through a Wild Hunt zone like a lost child and your first words to me? Not really."

"Oh?" Despite the harsh words, your teasing tone only eggs the knight further. He draws one knee in, flashes you his most charming smile and tries not to flush when you laugh again. "Then what can I do to fix it?"

Your chuckle turns into a broken cough half-way through. By the time it ends, your expression is tight with pain, though it fades with a sigh. "…Just an moment of your time, if you can," you say. "I've heard you're quite skilled at lending an ear to the drunkards at the tavern."

"Well, you heard right. We got some time before I need to get to the next checkpoint, so…" Varka smooths a patch of sand nearby, gesturing for you to join him. You keep a polite distance as your cloak spills out around you, and after turning down an offer of his flask, he asks, "What's on your mind?"

You turn towards the horizon, gently clearing your throat. "…I'm dying." You cough again, missing Varka's alarmed stare. Once it fades, you seem amused. "I've finally won a bet out of it, at least. My friend didn't think I'd last this long."

Varka stirs, caught between your words and bemusement. Your shoulders seem to lose its tension, at least, so he clears his throat and says, "You don't seem scared."

"...I'm not. I'm well past my time." You clear your throat. This time, when you look at Varka, you almost seem embarrassed. "Is that weird?"

"…No. Of course not." The knight can't help but laugh - it reminds him of far too many fireside chats with new recruits still recovering from their first true taste of combat. It's enough to shake him out of the stupor. "As long as you lived the path you chose to live, then you'll die free of regret."

Your smirk grows into a smile, your laugh like chimes on a gentle Spring day as you turn away. It lures Varka closer, leaning forward as he asks, "So...have you?"

"Lived how I wanted?" You tilt your head in contemplation. "Somewhat. My old life was quite fulfilling, as short as it was."

"What do you mean?"

Your cloak shifts, a single hand emerging to touch the base of your horns. "Most of my time was spent hiding away, just waiting for the days to go by. Then, Miss Alice dragged me out by the horns and asked me to babysit her children, and then I was dragged on a trip all across Teyvat." A fond smile blooms on your lips, soft enough to make Varka's heart soar. "And then I met my husband. He was the one who convinced me to stay in Mondstadt."

A flash of heat burns in Varka's chest, but he forces it away with a chuckle. "Your husband must have been very persuasive to lock you down, huh?"

"No, he was just stupid."

You say it with such conviction it makes Varka laugh out of shock. "How'd he manage to convince you, then?"

Your mouth opens, falters, then tightens as you turn to the horizon. "He...used to tell me that the first time he laid eyes on me, he just knew he had to marry me, so he kept chasing me until I finally said yes." Your hand retreats into your cloak as you laugh, though there's barely any warmth to the noise. "Like I said, stupid."

"Nah, I think he's onto something!" Varka swells with satisfaction when it manages to draw another pained laugh out of you. This time, he reaches over to soothe your back when your coughs turn bloody. "Does he…know? That you're dying, I mean."

"…Yes."

"And does he know you're all the way over here?"

"He did."

Did. Past-tense. "Ah," Varka says and clears his throat. "My condolensces."

"Don't be. We had our time together, and he died a happy man," you say, amusement bleeding through your tone. "Though, he was quite resistant when I told him my plan."

"I mean, makes sense." Varka throws his hands up in defense when you frown at him. "The love of your life is dying, and instead of wanting to stay safe by your side so they can pass peacefully, they tell you they want to go to a nation on the opposite end of Teyvat to join in on a war with no end in sight. That'd give anyone a heart attack."

"What happened to living the life I wanted to live?" you huff.

Varka just shrugs again. "Hey, I'm just putting myself in his shoes."

Despite this, you laugh lightly and nod towards him. "Well, when I told him I was going no matter what, he told me to find you first. Said you'd accept my help if I offered.

Varka's eyes go wide before he barks out a laugh. "Well, smart man!" With a grunt, he pushes himself to his feet, offering a hand to you without a second thought. "Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth, huh?"

"…Are you calling me a horse, sir knight?"

He flusters, made worse when you accept his offered hand. "No, no, of course not!" he blurts out as he glances at your horns. "You're the most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my life."

…Not what he meant to say either. Varka's mind scrambles, torn between rectifying the blunder and reminding himself that you're a widow still reshly reminiscing about your husband. Your warmth bleeding through the fabric of his glove isn't helping. Your presence is making his head dizzy, melting the world around him until all he feels is your touch.

And when you laugh? Gods, Varka thinks he could take on the Wild Hunt with one hand if it meant hearing your laugh for the rest of his life.

Varka has to tighten his grip to keep you from keeling over, your entire body trembling with laughter. You end up leaning against him for support, and he hopes you cannot hear his heart pounding beneath his breastplate. "Out of all of them, this-" you gasp, "-is the worst first impression I've ever experienced in my life."

The knight just blushes and begs, "And I promise I'll make it up to you later, just please don't tell Alice or I'll never hear the end of it."

You just give him a soothing pat over the heart and say, "No promises."

-

Things happen.

A lot of things happen.

He meets people as fast as loses them, mourning and celebrating and calculating their next move. He sets up partnerships, intelligence networks, bar crawls - anything he can think of that might give the Knights of Favonius the foothold they need to establish themselves in the rugged terrain of Nod-Krai.

In the blur of it all, you become one of few constants at his side. You keep pace with him on the battlefield. You join him for his strategy meetings under the main tent. You take over his nightwatch when he's too tired to continue, and you march with him at first light without complaint. Even if the Knights have never met you before, they crowd around and treat you like one of their own. When they realize you're willing to use your Dendro Vision to grow and brew Dandelion Wine using seeds you'd brought from Mondstadt, they all but make you their new Grandmaster.

When you turn that suggestion down, they call you the Dragonheart Knight instead and insist Varka make it a real title once the expedition is over. It's like you've been a Knight your entire life, and it only makes Varka wonder.

"Why us?"

"Hm?"

Varka blinks, stunned out of his own reverie. You're sitting beside him on the hilltop, blanketed in your everpresence cloak. The rest of the Knights are still singing around the bonfire, the air ripe with booze and laughter. He'd volunteered to keep watch for now. You had, as always, joined him not a moment later.

"Ah, nothing," he says after a moment. "Was just thinking out loud."

You hum, giving him only a fleeting glance before saying, "About why I'm here?"

Varka almost laughs it off, but your body goes stiff as you begin to cough. It sounds far worse than the first time he met you, thick and congealing in your lungs until it finally passes. It only spurs him onward, voice dropping as he asks, "The Frostmoon Scions can't do anything about it?"

You clear your throat with a grimace. "The problem runs far deeper than anything traditional medicine can cure." This time, you offer a tired smile to Varka that makes his heart twist. "I can only delay the inevitable."

Which is true, but some part of Varka still wants to try. You've already made yourself an indispensable member of their expedition force, and…well, he doubts your husband would want you buried all the way out here. He owes it to the poor fool for supporting your terrible idea, and he owes it to you for making the decision in the first place. If he can find some way to get you back home before your time is up, then he'll see it through.

"Still…why us?" Varka gestures vaguely to the bonfire and his drunken men. "Not to say I don't appreciate the help - Hell, if I had met you sooner, I would've given anything to have you join us. I just…I would've expected someone of your caliber to be doing whatever it is that Alice does."

 Your lips purse, and it takes an entire drunken song from the bonfire before you finally say, "You make it sound as if you are not doing the same."

"Me?" Varka laughs. "I've done a lot, but I don't think I'm on the same level as Alice-"

"And yet here you are, fighting a war in some far-off region, simply because you believe it's right, regardless of what fate showed you." Your gaze seems to harden, as if challenging the knight to argue. "Or was I wrong in choosing to follow in your footsteps?"

For a moment, Varka feels years younger, hands still numb around Barbeloth's scry glass as visions of Mondstadt's crumbling walls burn into his memory.

But only a moment.

He lets out a laugh so loud it makes the knights cheer below in response. "Well, when you phrase it like that!" he says and slings an arm around you. Even though he's seem you pick up and throw an entire Mitachurl with one hand, you don't resist when he drags you into a tight sidehug. "Glad to have you with us, Dragonheart Knight. Together, Unser Blut neuen Frieden wird sähen!"

This time, every conscious body in Favonius Keep cheers, the slurring words of Das Favoniuslied swelling from the very depths of their soul. It makes Varka's own heart soar with pride, then nearly bursts when he hears your hum join the mix. It is barely more than a quiet rasp, and yet the fondness in your eyes make the Grandmaster feel like he's twelve years old all over again.

He keeps his grip on you tight. Something in him worries if he lets go, he won't ever be able to catch you again.

The night continues on, and as the bonfire finally fades, you start to stir. Varka has to force himself to let go as you rise to your feet, tail rippling behind you when you stretch. He supposes he should do the same; tomorrow is an early day, and he'll have plenty of hungover knights to deal with.

"Varka?"

The knight pauses before he can push himself to his feet. "Yeah?"

"If I don't make it to the end, can you…promise me something?"

"Of course," he says immediately, adding, "It's the least I can do," when you finally turn to him.

The smile you give him makes his fingers go weak. "Can you bring my Vision back to Mondstadt? I doubt my body could last the trip, but I think my husband will understand."

"…If it comes to it, then I will." Varka stands, arms crossed as he returns your smile. "But don't count yourself out just yet. So long as you can stand, we'll fight together."

Your smile grows, and when you salute to him, he does not hesitate to salute back.

…

One fateful day, you announce to the knights that you will be away for some time. Alice has called for your assistance at the world's borders, and there aren't many who can navigate the void as well as you can.

"Of course, I've arranged for fresh shipments from the Dawn Winery once a month. Laurent, I've already showed you how to handle the array, but let me say this again-" You fix the gathered knights with a glare so sharp it makes even Varka stiffen at your side. "Do not stick anything organic into the array. Not unless you want Master Diluc to find your body parts in his house. Are we understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Good." You nod, turning sharply. "That is all-"

"Woah, woah, hold on." Varka grabs your arm before you can take off. "Don't head out just yet!"

"Yeah!" Winfried breaks from his salute to pout at you. "You can't just leave without a proper Favonius farewell!"

Your tail flicks as you huff, Hexenzirkel's charm flashing. "I'm not even a knight-"

"You're the Dragonheart Knight!" Leifhelm says. "Grandmaster Varka made it official, like, last month."

"What?" You look up at Varka, eyes wide. "Did you really?"

Varka just smiles innocently and shrugs. "I may or may not have slipped a few words into my report letter back to Jean. Besides, knight or not, you've shed blood for the sake of our cause. That makes you more than worthy of a title." You bristle, but he reaches into his coat and retrieves his flask before you can protest. "So no matter how far the winds may carry you, know that Mondstadt will always welcome you home. Prost!"

With that, the libations fly. Tradition dictates that the Church of Favonius christen the Knights with blessed wine before starting any grand expedition. Considering everything, you get violently pelted with whatever alcohol they have in their flasks. You try to attack them, even threaten to destroy the garden you used to make the dandelions. Despite the rage in your voice, you still return the Knights' salute before disappearing in a burst of light.

After that, things get worse.

The Wild Hunt grows more active. The Fatui start testing their boundaries. Varka makes headway with his intelligence network and allies, and you'd set up plenty to cover your tasks while you're gone, but-

"Your friend's been gone a long time," Nefer of the Northern Intelligence Network teases during one meeting. "Hope you didn't break their heart, sir knight."

The title makes Varka's jaw tight, lacking the same warmth it carried whenever it came from you. "Hey, I know better than to chase after a widow," is all he manages to say.

He doesn't hear from you, though. He tries not to be too disappointed - you are, after all, helping Alice with something that goes way over his head. Literally. And you never said you would send any letters, either! He's just…worried. You don't have much time left, and if you die out there, how the hell is he supposed to bring your Vision home?

It's just one worry out of many until one day, he hears about the Stormterror incident in Mondstadt and everything goes to shit. He's too busy juggling the Wild Hunt, the Fatui, the Curatoreum of Secrets, the Frostmoon Scions, and the Lightkeepers to think of himself. It is one battle after another, and he cannot afford to slip up now.

So when he hears word of a terrible beast destroying the northern reaches of Nod-Krai, Varka does not hesitate. He rallies his men and draws up a plan, and with the Lightkeepers leading the way, they march.

"It's nothing like I've ever seen from the Wild Hunt," Illuga says as he walks at Varka's side. "Normally manifestation of the Wild Hunt are humanoid, but this one is far more…draconic."

"Then let me take the lead," Varka offers. "You take my guys and form a perimeter around the field, keep it penned in as best we can. If I can't kill it, the best thing we can do is try to seal it in with whatever we got."

Illuga nods, and as he splits the teams up, Varka heads deeper into the mist. He activates his Elemental Sight in pulses, watching Aino's 'Bye-Bye Night Light Beacons' appear around him. Considering how deep it is in a Wild Hunt Zone, he doubts it'd have any elemental energy to track. To his surprise, he does find a set of claw marks that remind him eerily of Andrius, tinged with Dendro.

He tries to be hopeful. There aren't any Dendro wielders in Mondstadt, but more than plenty in the rest of Teyvat. Hell, he's met Nefer and knows the leader of the Scions both have one.

But Varka knows they aren't here, and neither are you.

So then why does that beast have a Mondstadt Vision hanging from its horns? Why does its tail have your Hexenzirkel charm? And in its maw, clamped tight between its teeth - that's your traveling cloak, isn't it?

Varka doesn't know, but he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't even bother testing the beast - he just charges across the clearing with a roar and cleaves his swords at the monster's throat. He'd promised he'd bring your Vision home, after all.

The strike connects. The monster screams. It rears back as corruption sloughs off its skeletal frame, and Varka catches a glimpse of your terrified face beneath the abyssal taint before you collapse.

"No…" Varka recoils, shakng out his head. This is a trick. It has to be. The Wild Hunt can cause hallucinations. He'd foolishly gone in on his own, it's been too long, he-

"V…ar…ka…" Varka grabs you, uncaring of the filth still spilling from your skin. Your chest is fluttering, eyes wide and unfocused, but when he hefts you up, they drift towards his face. One corner of your lips twitch. "It's you…good…"

"Good?" Varka echoes, almost laughing out of hysteria. He tries to keep a hand over your wounds, but his aim had been true. He thinks he can almost see bone beneath it all. "No, no, it's alright. Don't worry, the Lightkeepers are around here. I'll-"

A hand lands against his. When he looks down, you just shakily point towards your horns. Still hanging by a thread, the Dendro Vision's light starts to fade.

"No…" Varka reaches for your horns, heart pounding. "No, no, no-"

"Varka-"

"No. You can't-" Varka tugs at his hair, nearly ripping out a few strands as he grits his teeth. "That can't be it. There has to be another way."

You grab his arm before he can actually start ripping out his hair, frowning. "It's Barbeloth," you say, almost impressed with how calm you sound. "Do you really want to doubt her now?"

You wait, watching the thoughts warring behind your husband's eyes. No matter what he says, you can just turn him around and point out the window.

The sky is choked with smoke and the ground has lost all its color. The Knights are stretched thin as is, taking in as many refugees as they can as others attempt to repair the broken city walls. Jean, Lisa, and Diluc are trying their best with Albedo and Sucrose to investigate Dvalin's corpse. Kaeya and Amber have already taken off to see how the rest of Teyvat is faring, and Lord Barbatos...

"No," Varka sighs before the thought overtakes you. "No, I don't. I just..." He drops into the seat behind him, face twisting with desperation. "There has to be something I can do. I can't make you do this all on your own."

"There is." Your hand drifts up to his face, gently cupping his cheek. It isn't like your husband to look so despondent, and it hardens the resolve already sitting in your chest. "You need to let the mages and I do our work."

"I know, but-"

"But nothing." It only takes a single tap of your finger to turn his head towards you - not that you'd put any strength into it, no. Your touch just had that effect on him. "Don't act like you won't be running yourself ragged on the other side. Knowing you, I'll have to make sure you don't get yourself killed over something stupid."

Finally, a smile breaks across Varka's face, but he's quick to bury himself against your stomach. Your tail loops around his back automatically, hands slipping through his hair. It's the usual hug he likes when he's bemoaning the paperwork on his desk, or when he's trying not to throw up all over the tavern floor.

"...Are you scared?"

You huff, gently tugging on his hair in offense. "Of course not. I've been through worse."

Varka turns, cheek pressed to your stomach as he blinks up at you. "But this is...this isn't like Dvalin, or Boreas. Absorbing that much corruption…You're going to die."

"Yes, and it's something I know you would do if you had the chance," you say dryly.

"Would you try and stop me?"

"No, because you would just go and do it anyways." When your husband pouts, you give his head a squeeze. "And I know you, Varka. You wouldn't rest if you knew there was something you could do."

"...But what about you?" Varka sits back, hands warm at your waist. "You're doing this for me, but..."

"I'm doing it for myself, too." You gently shake your head, listening to the little gift from the gods clink against your horns.  "I doubt I would've gotten this if I didn't have some kind of personal stake in it all."

Varka looks up as your Dendro Vision swings. You're still trying to get used to the weight. It'd been Klee's idea to attach it up there, using ribbons from her own clothes to fasten it as 'something for Big Brother to remember Klee by!' before she evacuated with Diona to Springvale. Albedo had to use his own powers to reinforce the fabric, which he also called a gift from 'your little brother' before leaving to do his own resesrch.

"I don't think we have any Dendro Users here," the knight says suddenly. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"Varka-"

"I bet your powers would make the vineyard grow back in no time."

"Varka, oh my-" You shove Varka's head, but as your husband starts to laugh, you can't help but laugh with him. You can almost see it now; the knights, crawling over themselves, begging you to find a way to produce enough dandelions for wine. Knowing your stupid self, you probably would find a way. A sad (or sober) Knight is no Knight at all.

Your laughter fades as you take in Varka's face, his toothy smile and weathered skin. The rational part of you knows trying to memorize it is pointless. If your research is right, Varka will look the exact same. But this is your Varka, the idiot who managed to choke during a drinking contest and invite you to join in right after. Once your plan starts, when you return to the Abyss and cleanse this world of its terrible fate, this man will no longer exist, and soon…

"...When you come back, make sure you find me."

You blink as Varka rises to his feet, hands moving from your waist to your shoulders. When you realize he's serious, you bristle. "Varka, the whole point of this is to make sure we never meet-"

"No, the whole point of this is to make sure this future never happens. That doesn't mean I can't be with you again." The same fire that convinced you to stay in Mondstadt all those months ago burns in his eyes once more. "Find me, tell me what happened, and we'll work together to figure it out, okay?"

"You make it sound so simple." You look away, throat tight. You don't know why you're surprised - it's Varka you're married to. "I doubt he'd believe me, anyways."

"Hah, are you kidding?! If he's anything like me, he'll take one look at you and fall in love all over again. Trust me, he'll believe you." He hunches closer, eyes darting all around your face like he's searching for something. After a moment, he gives you a chaste, but warm kiss, then stares deep into your eyes. "It'll hurt, I...I know. Even imagining it scares me. But just remember: you're married to the Knight of Boreas. Nothing'll hurt more than me not helping you."

You roll your eyes and tug on your husband's coat, sinking into another kiss and savoring it for all its worth. Leave it to your stupid husband to kiss you like he'd see you again tomorrow. What an idiot.

Varka catches himself, nearly falling atop of you as he struggles to breath. "What…" he gasps. What was that?Another world? Another version of himself, another version of Mondstadt, fallen apart…and you. You, with all the warmth and love he never knew, had smiled at him like everything would be okay. You called him…

As the world stops spinning, the knight finally looks down at his hands. Clenched in one hand, your Dendro Vision gives one last pulse of light, then finally dulls.

…

When the others depart from the Symbol of Mondstadt's Heroes, Varka awkwardly waves for Lumine to come back for one last favor. He's still sitting on the ground, looking up at the traveler sheepishly.

"Do you think you could use your little purifying trick on something for me?"

Lumine tenses, eyes darting all over the Grandmaster's body as Paimon gasps, "Oh no! Are you okay? Did you pick up something from the ley lines? Is that why you haven't gotten up yet?!"

Varka waves off the little guide's concern with a laugh, then slips a hand into his coat. "No, no, I just...wanted to make sure it was good before I did something with it." 

For a moment, Lumine thinks Varka is about to pull out the hidden flask he keeps in his inner breast pocket. It's definitely in the same area. When his hand retracts, though, he's clutching something far smaller: a dull Mondstadt Vision, with frayed red ribbon dangling from the top.

Lumine hesitates, memories of Kazuha and his own dull Vision flitting through her thoughts. She steels herself, glancing at the knight before taking the Vision into her hands. Despite its inert state, its glass still feels warm, as if its owner passed only recently. She imagines it must have soaked up the body heat from being inside Varka's coat for so long.

After another warning glance, Lumine flexes her hand. Normally, purifying abyssal taint...tickles, to put it simply, like scratching a bug bite. The golden light flickers through the dull Vision, but it only lasts for a moment before she frowns. "I can't find anything wrong with it."

"Yeah, I had a feeling." Varka reaches out, accepting the dull Vision with a nod. As his thumb smooths against the glass surface, his expression turns pensive, and the adventurer in Lumine can't help it.

"Whose Vision was that?"

"...a dear friend of mine." Varka chuckles, tossing and catching the Vision out of clear muscle memory. With a flourish, he brandishes the dull Vision as if it were freshly minted Mora. "Don't suppose you've ever heard of the Dragonheart Knight, huh?"

Paimon gasps, eyes sparkling. "Isn't that the knight that Klee used to talk about all the time?!"

"The one that went on a 'voyage beyond the stars to protect fate'," Lumine recites. At Varka's wide-eyed stare, she adds, "Alice mentioned them before. Jean did, too, when they were figuring out the whole 'Honorary Knight' thing. But…"

A single glance at the dull Vision in Varka's hand makes the knight wince, and he goes back to smoothing the surface as he nods. "They…died a few years back."

"Oh." Paimon covers her mouth, eyes already watering. "Paimon's sorry..."

Varka just waves it off. "Nah, don't be. We had our time together, and that's all I…" His brows knit, a moment of confusion flashing in his eyes before he lets out a laugh so loud it echoes. "Hah! I wonder if this makes me a widow now."

"Widow?" Paimon and Lumine echo. The second it sinks in, the guide screams, "YOU WERE MARRIED?!"

Varka puffs up, hand to his chest in clear offense. "Hey, why're you so surprised? I'm a catch!"

"I mean, you left on an expedition across the country because you were worried it'd be a threat to Mondstadt's safety," Lumine says flatly. "If I were married to you, that would've driven me insane."

Though she means it as a joke, Varka's expression still falters. He gazes off into the distance, contemplative. "Yeah. Not the first time I've heard that." With a shrug, he pushes himself to his feet, groaning all the way up. "Probably a good thing we aren't married then, huh?"

Lumine just snorts as he stretches himself out. "I think I'm too old for you, anyways."

"Wha-Hey! What do you mean by that?" Varka pounds his fist over his heart, voice rich with pride. "My spouse was over 500 years old!"

Lumine blinks, recalling Alice's amusement and Nicole's smile whenever they spoke of the knight, then Flins' gentle teasing and Rerir's obsessive rage. Before she can point it out, Paimon says it for her: "What is with you and attracting a bunch of ancient people?"

"Hey, I can't help it." Varka winks. "I'm just that charming."

Lumine snorts, her retort ready and waiting before the Grandmaster turns away. With a thrust of his hand, a weapon materalizes - not his usual claymores, no, but a single polearm. Its design belongs to no nation, and it looks more like a twig in the Grandmaster's hands. Still, he twirls it once before driving it into the dirt between the giant tree's roots, then gently twines the Vision's ribbon around the other end. As he tightens the knot, the wind picks up speed. It's just enough to jostle the Vision until it clinks against the shaft, like wind chimes hanging from a balcony. A boyish smile blooms across the Grandmaster's face at the noise.

"Or stupid," he says as he salutes the Vision, "depending on who you ask."

Lumine watches the Vision as it dances. The Dragonheart Knight, who went on a voyage beyond the stars to protect fate. Klee had called them her brother, and Jean still had the letters to prove that Varka did, in fact, have his notary stamp with him in Nod-Krai. And to be married to the Knight of Boreas, who gave up everything to to protect the nation he loved…

She may not know you, but she still salutes your dull Vision with her head high. "Thank you for your service, Dragonheart Knight," she says. Then, before Varka can react, she adds, "We'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid now that he's home."

Varka sputters, then whines when Lumine drags him towards the city. Behind them, the Vision tied to the polearm chimes like it's laughing.