Chapter Text
Varka was good at many things. He knew how to fight. He knew how to wield a sword - two at once, in fact. He could run fast, jump high, and hit hard. He could drink a lot of liquor, fast, without it even going to his head, and he knew how to talk to people. Varka considered himself a pretty handy guy and was even a little proud of it. But in this world, there was always at least one thing even a handy guy couldn’t do, and that was the case with Varka, too.
Varka was a terrible dancer.
Fortunately for Varka, this particular skill was rarely needed in his work as Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius. In fact, Varka could count on one hand the number of times he’d had to dance, and even then, he was sure he’d somehow managed to wriggle out of those situations (he was secretly a little proud of that, too). But this time, wriggling away wouldn’t help. For he was facing an opponent who was overwhelming even by the standards of a man as handy as Varka.
Jean Gunnhildr was personally making sure that the Grandmaster would attend the dance.
The event had been Lisa’s idea. She had come up with the brilliant idea of organizing a ball to celebrate the 1,000th anniversary of the founding of the Knights. All the residents of Mondstadt would be welcome, and there would be good food and drink, as well as, of course, good company. At this point, Varka had been fully on board with the idea. It was a brilliant idea - why hadn’t he thought of it himself?! He didn’t even object to the idea that, since it was a ball, there would of course be dancing. It made sense. But then a force named Jean Gunnhildr had gotten the idea and dropped a bombshell that had made Varka turn pale with horror and start thinking of every possible way to escape.
Since Varka was the Grandmaster, he would, of course, have to perform the opening dance.
Varka had resisted. Of course he had; he didn’t know a single step of the waltz or the tango or any other dance either. He had whined and whimpered like a little child, begging for mercy from everyone and everything. But Jean had been firm. “You are the Grandmaster of the Knights. This is a good opportunity to show that there’s more to it than just drinking,” she had said, and then added the follow-up that put an end to every one of Varka’s escape plans. “I will personally make sure you do it, whether you like it or not.” And then she had marched off, leaving the Grandmaster - who felt he needed a drink - and Lisa, who was trying to stifle her laughter, in the Varka’s office.
And so Varka found himself at Angel's Share, where he sat with his trusty tankard in hand and his spirits at rock bottom, while Diluc listened to his ramblings, polishing wine glasses at the same time.
“How am I supposed to learn to dance? I’m a warrior, a swordsman, not a ballerina,” Varka grumbled, pouring liquid from his tankard into his mouth. “I wish Lisa had never come up with this whole ball idea.”
“Did Jean say what kind of dance the opening dance should be?” Diluc asked calmly. He was used to the Grandmaster coming and going, drinking a tankard or two, and talking about whatever was on his mind at the moment. Over the years, Diluc had given Varka plenty of good advice, even though, despite Varka’s numerous attempts, he still hadn’t agreed to rejoin the Knights.
“Yeah, it’s a waltz,” Varka said and took a sip from his tankard. Diluc opened his eyes, which he had kept closed. “Waltz, huh? So, you need a partner. Who are you going to ask?” he asked, and Varka startled so much that beer nearly spilled onto the table. “Archons, I hadn’t even thought of that,” he said, looking slightly horrified. “Who can I ask? I’m sure Jean won’t settle for just anyone.”
"What about her? Why don't you dance with her?" Diluc asked, but Varka shook his head.
"It won’t work; she has other duties during the opening dance, so she can’t do it," he replied. He had also thought of Jean first but then remembered that Jean had other duties during the opening dance. Which was a shame, of course, because Varka was sure Jean would have been a great dancer.
“Hmm, then, what about Lisa? Amber? Eula? Heck, ask Kaeya, he’d probably be happy to,” said Diluc, but Varka shook his head again. “It won’t work either, they’re all busy with other things,” he said, and Diluc set the glass he’d polished down on the counter. “Well, too bad, then. You said rehearsals start next week, right? You have the weekend to find yourself a partner,” he said, looking Varka straight in the eye. “Or Jean can find one for you.”
“Maybe that would even be preferable,” Varka muttered and stood up. He drained his tankard in one big gulp and then slammed it down on the counter with a clang. “Well, I’d better be going now. The paperwork won’t finish itself,” he said, waving to Diluc, and left the tavern.
Varka’s thoughts were all over the place he was walking back toward the Knights’ headquarters. The idea of finding a dance partner wouldn’t leave him alone. He ran through in his mind all the possible women - and even men - who might be suitable to dance with him. He himself could have danced a waltz with Klee, for instance, but he had a hunch Jean probably wouldn’t approve of it, no matter how cute it might be. At that moment, Varka really felt like asking Dvalin for a ride somewhere far away and staying there until the whole dance fuss was over.
Varka was so lost in her thoughts that he didn’t notice he was walking straight into someone until he actually bumped into them. As a result of the collision, Varka hit his head on something, and rubbing his forehead, he began to apologize for his behavior.
“I’m really sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going at all. I hope you’re not hurt.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, I’m the one who should have been more careful,” the victim of the collision said, but contrary to what Varka had expected, the voice didn’t come out normally, instead, it seemed to echo inside his head. This made him immediately stop rubbing his forehead and look more closely at the person he had bumped into. He knew only one person who could speak telepathically.
“Miss Nicole?” he said in surprise, realizing that, sure enough, the familiar angel was indeed standing before him. Nicole smiled at Varka and said, hands on her hips, “In the flesh. Why, hello, Mr. Varka, it’s nice to see you again.”
"Please, just call me Varka," said Varka, who wasn't the biggest fan of formalities. He hadn't expected to meet Nicole, a member of the Hexenzirkel - a circle of powerful witches - and the last angel to retain her physical form and powers in Mondstadt, but he was delighted nonetheless.
Varka and Nicole had gotten to know each other better in Nod-Krai, where they had joined forces with others to help defeat Dottore, an evil madman who had wanted to do evil things with Teyvat’s three moons. Although they had both returned to their respective duties afterward - Varka to serve as Grandmaster and Nicole to do whatever it was that members of the Hexenzirkel did - their friendship had remained. Even now, Varka felt his mood lift strangely as he met Nicole again, and he wondered if Nicole had that effect on others too, or if it was just him. Probably only him.
“Well, Varka,” Nicole said with a smile. Varka felt something stir inside him. “Were you in a hurry to get somewhere? I won’t keep you any longer if you were. I’m actually on my way to a tea party, Alice wants to talk to the Hexenzirkel about the ball, and when Alice wants to talk about something, there will be a tea party.”
“Oh, so Jean told the Hexenzirkel about the ball?” Varka asked, and Nicole nodded.
Without even realizing it, Varka had started walking alongside Nicole toward the gates of Mondstadt. As they walked side by side down the street, many of Mondstadt’s residents seemed to recognize them and waved in greeting. But some seemed confused and then whispered something to each other. Varka waved back at those who had greeted him but didn’t understand why some of them were whispering like that when they saw them. Weren’t the residents of Mondstadt used to seeing the Grandmaster and the witches of the Hexenzirkel?
Nicole didn’t seem to notice this. Instead, she said: “Yes, she did. Oh, I’m so excited - the ball sounds so romantic! I’m sure I’ll get lots of great ideas for stories there!"
In her excitement, she even did a few dance steps, and Varka chuckled. And suddenly he had a brilliant idea.
"Hey, uh, Nicole?" he said, suddenly feeling a little shy. Nicole turned to look at him and asked, "Hm? What is it?"
"Wouldyouliketogototheballwithme?" Varka blurted out quickly and felt his neck getting hot for some reason. Nicole stopped mid-step and asked, tilting her head: "I’m sorry?"
"Would you like to go to the ball with me?” Varka repeated, though this time much more slowly. He didn’t understand why he was suddenly so nervous about Nicole’s answer. “I have done the opening dance and I need a partner for that. So, I thought maybe you could be one. I would like it very much. Please?”
Nicole stared at him for a good while, and Varka was already afraid she would refuse. He felt his heart pounding and his hands sweating, and he tried to secretly wipe them on his coat. The last time he’d been this nervous was when Angel’s Share had been closed, and he hadn’t been able to get a drink anywhere for a week.
Varka was already preparing to apologize for even daring to ask her to be his dance partner, but then Nicole’s mouth broke into a wide smile and she replied cheerfully, “Of course I will be your dance partner! That would be wonderful!” Varka felt his body relax instantly, and he managed to stammer out: “Great! I’ll let Jean know you’re dancing with me. Oh, and rehearsals start Monday afternoon.”
“Great, I’ll be there,” said Nicole, winking. That little gesture sent Varka’s mind racing again, and he had absolutely no idea why. Nicole, however, didn’t seem to notice a thing, instead, she cheerfully set off toward the city gate and waved to Varka.
“See you on Monday!” she called out one last time before disappearing into the crowd, and Varka raised his hand in farewell. Then he turned as if in a dream and set off again toward the Knights’ headquarters. But it wasn’t long before his steps lightened and a broad grin appeared on his face.
He really was a handy guy sometimes.