Chapter Text
The Grand Master is a busy man. Of course he is. The position is demanding as is, what with having to protect his people, lead troops into battle, and put up with Mondstadt's extensive bureaucratic processes. (The last one's especially taxing.)
But with the Windblume Festival—inarguably Mondstadt's biggest event year-round—right around the corner, it doesn't seem like Varka will be seeing the end of his bureaucracy-induced suffering anytime soon. Granted, he's never actually seen his desk free of hastily-done paperwork and muddied ink stains, but with so many decisions for Windblume requiring his approval, the list of documents needing his pertinent review has only gotten infinitely longer.
Still, between issuing orders to the remaining knights at their stronghold in Nod-Krai, training his would-be successors, and overseeing Mondstadt's preparations for the upcoming festival, Varka manages to find—or rather, create—idle time for a drink at Angel's Share. He thinks himself a generous man who graciously contributes to Mondstadt's economy. On occasion.
(Any and all occasions, he means. Patronizing Diluc's business is merely one of his many duties as Grand Master, after all.)
Varka sips on his drink. Alcohol burns a stream down his throat. He's perched on one of the rickety barstools, a high-pitched screech cutting through the incoherent chattering of late-night taverngoers every time he so much as shifts an inch. He inwardly grimaces.
Peering over the rim of his tankard, the Grand Master eyes the two knights tucked into the corner of the room.
Charles is humming to the tune of a song he can't name, but Varka thinks there's no point in listening further when he hears the melody of the Honorary Knight's laughter as she giggles—again—at one of the Cavalry Captain's jokes. Kaeya grins, looking entirely too pleased with himself as Lumine throws her head back. She hits him across the chest, and the captain finds himself chuckling fondly before lifting his glass to his lips.
Varka sets his tankard down. Loudly. He groans as he wipes the corners of his mouth.
This wine is too bitter for his liking.
Varka glances back at Lumine. It's not that he doesn't trust her chosen company for the night—far from it, really—but keeping an eye out for her is simply another one of his responsibilities as Grand Master. It is merely in his best interests that she's well taken care of. This nagging itch is nothing more than him extending his protection over Mondstadt to its only Honorary Knight. Right.
It's the least he can do for her after she's saved Mondstadt multiple times over. Saved him back then, too.
It's an entirely honorable, knightly endeavor.
It's the reason his eyes remain sorely fixated on her.
The only reason.
Definitely not because of the ugly, unfamiliar emotion churning in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Lumine devoting all her attention to the man beside her.
"You know, Mondstadt can get rather dull without you around."
Varka can only watch as Kaeya leans in, resting the side of his head on his hand while he traces the shape of his glass. Lumine doesn't seem to mind the captain closing the distance between them, only cocking her head in suspicion. "Does it, now?"
"Of course," Kaeya replies coolly. "Whenever I patrol at night, I often turn to the sky and search for Mondstadt's brightest star, eagerly waiting for the day of her return."
"Mondstadt's brightest star, huh?" She laughs a bit at that. "Is this some strange, roundabout way of saying you missed me?"
"It is." Kaeya's lips pull into a sly smile. "I missed you. Terribly so."
In the distance, Varka exhales. It comes out louder than it needed to be.
Lumine snorts. "Liar."
"You wound me, Traveler," Kaeya says in feigned hurt. He places a hand on his chest dramatically, as if attempting to quell an ache in his heart. Leaning closer, he lowers his voice. "You accuse me so thoughtlessly—even after everything we've shared?"
When Varka's grip on the handle of his tankard tightens inexplicably, he tells himself it is only because he feels the need to stretch his fingers. Loosen his knuckles a little, maybe. It is not at all because he's bothered by the amorous exchange unfolding before him. Nope. In fact, he's actually relieved that the Cavalry Captain and Honorary Knight are getting along well. The Grand Master should ensure that his people are well-acquainted with one another in order to maintain team morale, after all.
But his grip continues to tighten. The stretch of his gloves produces a small sound. A noise barely noticeable to the common person, but perfectly pronounced for someone meticulous enough to pick up on such minute details.
Something glints in Kaeya's eyes.
His smile sharpens.
"You know, Traveler, if the other knights were to see us right now…" he says louder than necessary, stretching his arm with the clear-cut intention of casually draping it over Lumine's shoulders, "they'd probably think we were on a date."
A faint smile tugs at her lips. She rolls her eyes, almost as if she's used to the captain's flirtatious advances and finds it amusing enough to tolerate. "In your dreams."
"Quite often, actually."
Varka doesn't remember standing up. Doesn't remember sending his chair backwards, legs scraping against the floorboards, before taking large strides towards Lumine and Kaeya. He slams his tankard down with enough force to rattle their drinks and leave a dent on the table, wedging his body between the two knights and inadvertently forcing Kaeya to retract his arm.
What is he doing?
Once the initial surprise disappears from Lumine's features, she looks up at him, lips slightly parted. There's a gleam in her eyes as she greets him. "Hi, Varka."
Two words, and all his intimidation dissipates with the wind.
He manages a sheepish grin—real smooth, Varka—before turning his attention to the silver-tongued captain on his other side. From beneath the Grand Master's looming shadow, a mischievous light shines in Kaeya's eyes, much too satisfied with the results of his needling.
Varka blinks.
He's fallen for a trap. A really stupid trap, at that.
"Good evening, Varka," Kaeya hums. He looks over the Grand Master's uncharacteristically agitated expression, his lips forming a wide, knowing smile. "I was just wondering when you would finally decide to join us. I could've sworn I felt your piercing gaze from the other end of the tavern."
Noticing Lumine staring up at him so expectantly, Varka suddenly realizes he hasn't actually come up with an excuse for inserting himself into their conversation. Up until only a couple of seconds ago, he's been minding his own business by the counter, seemingly content with only the bartender's company and his own.
He clears his throat, hoping the tavern's dim lighting is enough to mask the embarrassed flush of his cheeks. "I, uh, was…. debating when the best time would be to challenge you, of course!"
"Challenge me?" Kaeya's eyes drift to a completely oblivious Lumine. "What kind of challenge?"
Varka takes his tankard and bumps it against Kaeya's shoulder with careful restraint; too much force and he might send the Cavalry Captain soaring across the room. "To a drinking contest, of course! What else?"
Kaeya raises a brow. "So suddenly?"
"Yup!"
Varka scans the tavern and snatches a spare seat from the other side of the table, planting it smack dab between Lumine and Kaeya. This time, it's him who slings an arm around Kaeya's shoulders as he sits down between them.
"Come on, Kaeya, you know me! I love going toe to toe with my knights, whether it's on the training grounds or in a fine establishment such as this one," Varka says in his usual, booming voice; he even does his signature laugh at the end.
Kaeya looks him up and down. Honestly speaking, he has to give Varka his props. If he didn't already know any better, he'd assume this is an entirely earnest request and not at all the jealous intervention it so obviously is.
"So, what say you, Cavalry Captain? Do you accept this challenge from your Grand Master?"
Kaeya shakes his head in quiet resignation, unable to conceal the amusement in his expression.
"I suppose I do."
The challenge proceeds smoothly. As smoothly as a drinking contest between two notorious drunkards with tolerances that could only be described as blessings from the Anemo Archon, at least.
In the next half hour—or full hour, Varka isn't really keeping track—the two knights manage to go through enough bottles of dandelion wine to color their cheeks and cause a concerning dip in the Grand Master's personal savings. He's already lost count of how many bottles he's ordered, how many tankards he's emptied, and how many light flitters of laughter Lumine has graced him with while inebriated.
It's… buzzy. It's probably the alcohol. Most definitely the alcohol. Mostly the alcohol?
Not much later, though, Varka feels his temples throbbing. He grunts, looking over at his competitor, the young man desperately rubbing at the drowsiness in his eyes.
He has to admit: Kaeya is a formidable opponent. Not only because he can handle an impressive amount of alcohol, but also because he's incredibly committed to stealing Lumine's attention.
Committed to trying to steal it, at least.
"Say, Lumine—"
Any time Kaeya attempts to strike a conversation with Lumine as he does now, he's thwarted by Varka erupting in a loud, boisterous laughter. Then he repeatedly slaps the captain's shoulders and slyly reaches for the nearest bottle of wine.
"What was that, Captain Kaeya? Asked for another glass?" Varka slurs, pouring more wine into Kaeya's glass. Kaeya, with his reduced attention span, nods along and downs it like he actually did ask for a refill. "Atta boy!"
Meanwhile, Lumine, tonight's sober soul, is none the wiser to the knights' unspoken duel. Instead, she watches them with mild entertainment, nursing her drink while the two of them continue to have at it.
With Kaeya thoroughly distracted, Varka turns to Lumine. She stares back, bright eyes paired with an innocent smile—and his mind blanks. His mouth opens. Then closes. Nothing comes out. She looks at him, confused. Adorable. But internally, he's cursing himself, because why did his brain have to stop working now, of all times? Just how much did he drink for his mind to be this muddled? Why squander such a perfect opportunity to have the Honorary Knight's attention all to himself?
He stiffens.
What was that last one?
Beside him, Kaeya gulps down the last of his wine. Varka's window is closing. Before he can come up with a decent conversation topic, Kaeya raises his now-empty glass with finality and wipes the liquid dribbling down his chin.
"H-Hey—"
Varka loudly claps his hand over Kaeya's back. The weight of it knocks the air out of him. Kaeya audibly gags, almost as if bile—or something else—is about to bubble up in his throat.
Lumine's eyes widen. She gets up and gestures to the bar in a panic. "I'm gonna go ask Charles for a pitcher of water."
Without the more rational side of his brain to remind him not to stare, Varka's eyes shamelessly tread after her as she scuttles to the counter. Kaeya, meanwhile, clumsily moves his chair right next to his. He loops an arm around the Grand Master's neck before bringing him close enough to whisper in his ear. Varka cringes, feeling the heat of Kaeya's breath fanning against the side of his face.
"You knooow, Varka," Kaeya drawls, voice low and words slurred by the effects of alcohol, "I always knew wolves were territorial, but I never could've imagined that applied to the mighty Knight of Boreas, as well."
Varka turns his head to get a better look at the younger knight—as good a look as his semi-blurred vision can afford him, at least.
He squints. "Terri…" he starts, slowly sounding out the syllables. "Territorial?"
"The Honorary Knight," Kaeya purrs. He glances furtively at the blonde leaning over the bar before focusing on his commanding officer, lips curling into a teasing smile. "You're surprisingly possessive of her."
Varka pauses. Blinks once, then twice. Processes.
Him? Possessive? Of Lumine?
"Am not," Varka retorts. He shoots Kaeya an almost offended look. "Am just… looking out for her, you know. As a Grand Master should. For his Honorary Knight."
"I don't think that's all there is to it." Kaeya's words are punctuated by a breathy laugh. The kind of chortle that's so clearly laced by alcohol. He pulls Varka even closer. "In fact, my instincts tell me you're—" Kaeya hiccups, stripped of all his inhibitions as he repeatedly jabs an accusatory finger at the Grand Master's chest, "jealous."
Most times, Varka would deny such brazen claims with grace. Disprove unfounded allegations with facts and logic.
But, for some reason, this specific accusation destroys his composure completely.
Varka pushes Kaeya with enough force to nearly shove the captain out of his seat, pinpricks of heat creeping up the back of his neck. "W-What? Jealous?" he splutters, a bright red blooming beneath the flush of alcohol. "Of course not! T-That's preposterous! That's not very knightly at all…!"
"Oh, but you are," Kaeya chuckles, grin growing even wider. "Isn't all this—" he gestures to the empty bottles of dandelion wine littered across their table, "just an excuse to stop me from getting too close to her?"
Varka's throat tightens.
Right then, almost as if on cue, Lumine returns with a pitcher of water in hand and without an idea—Varka hopes, at least—as to what chaos has been unfolding in her absence.
Kaeya, however, takes it upon himself to raise his hand as she sets the pitcher down. "Oh, Honorary Knight…!" he calls out dramatically. "See how cruel our Grand Master has become, reducing me to this state so he can have you all to hims—"
Varka doesn't think before giving Kaeya a light tap underneath the table. A light tap is all it is. Definitely.
It's not his fault a light tap alone is enough to have Kaeya practically choking on his own spit.
"My, our Cavalry Captain really needs some water! He's gotten delirious!" Varka says loudly.
Concern etches across Lumine's face. She pads over to Kaeya's side without question, pouring him a glass of water. She curves her hand around his nape, fingers curling into his hair, before tilting his head back and bringing the edge of the glass to his lips. Kaeya offers her an apologetic look as he drinks from the glass, gulping slowly.
Varka remains rooted in his seat, rubbing Kaeya's back—his own form of recompense—while Lumine pours water into the captain's mouth. For the first time tonight, Varka is quiet. He observes how Lumine touches Kaeya without an ounce of hesitation, working with an air of familiarity that could only be born from prior experience. It unsettles him how Lumine is so obviously used to this. To Kaeya.
He feels… odd.
Because there's a small, almost imperceptible part of him that wants that for himself, and wanting is not something he's used to.
Before Varka can stew in his thoughts for longer, Kaeya empties his glass, inhaling loudly. Lumine wipes her forehead. Kaeya opens his mouth to speak—no doubt to feed Lumine more of his wine-addled delusions—when Charles walks up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Apologies, everyone, but I believe it's high time everyone retires for the night. We don't want our knights to miss tomorrow morning's patrol, do we?" Charles looks over at the clearly plastered Cavalry Captain. "At least Captain Kaeya already has a room booked upstairs. I can escort him there once I'm done cleaning up."
Which leaves Varka and Lumine.
Alone. Together.
Varka scrambles to stand up, grasping at the opportunity like a lifeline. "A-And I'll walk the Honorary Knight back to Headquarters!"
Charles chuckles. "Appreciate it, Grand Master Varka!"
With their abrupt dismissal, the three bid each other good night, the victor of their duel remaining unnamed. But if you ask Varka, the answer is clear: Kaeya's being hauled up the stairs to his room by Charles, while he's sauntering through Mondstadt side by side with Lumine. The wind sweeps between them, almost as if the Anemo Archon himself is gently carressing the crown of the Traveler's head. Her hair spills around her like starlight framing the soft features of her face.
He won. Obviously.
In his celebration, Varka fails to notice a particularly uneven slab of cobblestone lined up in the path ahead. With an utter lack of elegance unbefitting a Grand Master, his boot gets caught. He trips. Lumine notices. She reaches forward to steady him right before he completely loses his balance, limbs weighed down by who knows how many bottles of dandelion wine. Heat spreads out from where her small hand presses against his torso.
"You okay, Varka?" Lumine asks.
"Y-Yup." His voice comes out more strained than expected. He shifts his weight to regain his footing. "Thank you, Lumine. Wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry 'bout that."
They continue on the path towards the Knights' Headquarters, but this time, she inches a bit closer to him—whether out of concern he might stumble again or a desire to be near him, Varka is light-headed enough to silently hope it's the latter.
"No worries. Maybe you shouldn't have drank so much, though," she sighs, fondness lingering beneath a layer of exasperation. "I honestly had no idea what got into you earlier."
He laughs weakly. "Guess I was just feeling a bit competitive."
"Over what? Who can drain Mondstadt's reserves the fastest before Windblume?" she teases.
For your attention, he almost admits, the words already waiting on his tongue.
Varka's eyes widen.
"Guess you just missed old times, right?" she hums, "I'm sure Kaeya missed you as well—even if you did drink him under the table."
Climbing up the stairs to the cathedral, Lumine looks around, eyes longingly tracing the shape of Mondstadt's skyline. For a moment, she pauses, before adding thoughtfully, "The people here missed you more than you think."
He nearly misses a step. Warmth spreads behind his ears. "What makes you say that?"
Reaching the cathedral, they turn left towards Headquarters. Again, Varka matches her pace, this time letting his arm brush against her shoulder. Subtle. Innocent.
"How people in Mondstadt talk about you… it felt like I knew you even before actually meeting you in person," she explains, smiling softly. "It's clear they look up to you very much, and I'm sure they're glad you’re here for Windblume this time around."
They're only several steps away from Headquarters now. Mere moments from parting ways—the Honorary Knight to retire to her quarters where her floating companion rests in their shared bed, and the Grand Master to the throes of incomplete paperwork.
"I know I can't speak for everyone when I say this, but…"
Varka turns to Lumine.
"…I like to think things are much livelier with you around, Varka."
His breath hitches.
"You sure it isn't just because of Kaeya?"
At that moment, Lumine leaps to the foot of the building. There, she whirls herself around to face him fully, hands tucked behind her back. Her dress billows in the wind, the Anemo Archon's blessing carding through her hair as moonlight catches in fine threads of silver-gold.
She smiles again, and Varka feels his world tilt on its axis.
"No," she giggles, "I think that one's all you."
Varka's heart stutters in his throat.
He thinks that, maybe, it's the alcohol that's forcing him to face the emotion throbbing inside his chest with devastating honesty.
Because right now, with Lumine standing before him as she does, he can't deny that he's starting to want something far greater than what a Grand Master returning too late has any right to desire.
Suddenly, a particularly strong gust of wind blows against them.
It sends Lumine off-balance.
Even in his drunken stupor, Varka instinctively rushes forward and catches her, both hands reaching for her waist. A high-pitched squeal escapes her before she clamps her hands over her mouth. He realizes, then, with almost sobering clarity, that she fits perfectly against his palm, his hands large enough to encompass the entirety of her waist.
Heat instantly sears across his entire face, the red of his cheeks only deepening further.
"I— s-sorry!" Varka yelps. He plants both of Lumine's feet firmly on the ground before stepping back, raising his arms in surrender. "I didn't mean to—"
"No, it's o-okay, Varka. Thank you," she stutters, a small hand hovering over his arm. "I guess that makes us even now, right?"
Varka stares at her dumbly. Lumine laughs, turning on her heel. She cracks the door to the Knights' Headquarters open before looking over her shoulder to beckon him inside. He snaps out of it. He looks at her, sighs, and lets a small, affectionate smile tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Right."
The Grand Master trudges up and opens the door wider for his Honorary Knight before they both head inside. They wish each other good night before she rounds the corner and disappears into the corridor where her room is. He staggers to his office, shoulders past the door, and slumps over his desk.
Varka decides then that he owes Kaeya an apology. And perhaps something to soothe the utterly disastrous hangover he's sure is about to crash over the Cavalry Captain in the morning.
Because perhaps he was talking some sense, after all.