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If there's one festival Mondstadt has to be most well-known for, it's Windblume. It's not just because it's a regional festivity, but it's also how it's celebrated; the music that's being played by bards all throughout the city all day long, the games people come up with and host, the flower shop that's going through peak season right as the festival rolls around, the way Mondstadters tend to enjoy a good beverage to bring up the mood even more than it already is, and of course, the way it tends to be celebrated with genuinely everyone, ranging from a simple acquaintance to lovers and from friends to family.
This year, it was the first year that the Grand Master has officially returned to Mondstadt for a long time, and thus the first Windblume he's had in years, making this one just a little bit more special. Well, it appeared like that. To Varka, it was just like any other Windblume, if not a little sadder than usual. Yes, he'd missed the festivities he had been so homesick about, but after Nod-Krai… something was missing—someone was missing.
He's greeted cheerfully by many as he makes his way over to Good Hunter, all the celebratory lines of “happy Windblume!”.
The sky is clear, only the sun and thin, small clouds scattered at a few places, and the temperature could warm even the most evil of souls.
The taverns are closed until evening, hence why Varka found himself at the Good Hunter, where he ordered a good ol’ Dandelion wine. It's been a few months since he returned to Mondstadt, but he still relishes in the flavour, relishing in how much different and better this is than wine that's been transported across the continent. Still, something’s missing.
“Ah, Grand Master,” a well known voice sounds from behind, and Varka doesn't even have to turn around to know it's the Calvary Captain that's striking up a conversation with him right now. Said man joins him in leaning against the counter, off to the side so they're not in someone else's way of ordering something from Sara. Kaeya voices a quick order, the same as Varka, before talking again. “Your first Windblume after quite some time, eh? Is it exciting?”
“Ah…” there's a slight rasp in Varka's voice as he lets out the prolonged sound. “Honestly, when you're at my age, you start to enjoy watching the youth celebrate more than participating, yourself. It's not like I haven't celebrated it every single year since my birth until I first went to Nod-Krai.”
“Still,” Kaeya shrugged his shoulders, thanking Sara when she handed him his own glass of wine. “It must be at the very least a little nostalgic, no?”
Varka hummed. “A little, yeah…” He then let out a laugh. “The memories are great, though. I still remember dumping both your and Diluc’s heads right into apple bobbing tubs, haha!”
Kaeya glanced at the Grand Master, tilting his head just a little, a slightly irritated smile on his face. It wasn't genuine, though. “I remember that… The water left through my nose.”
Varka continued to laugh, even louder at that reminder. “Haha! And then Albedo had to refrain you from trying to trample me! Not like you'd be able to do that.”
Kaeya chuckled, but also let out a short, awkward cough. “That wasn't me back then…”
“Yeah, yeah. You never lose your composure, huh?” Varka teased him, nudging the Cryo sword wielder gently with his elbow. A short silence fell over them, both sipping from their drinks before Varka managed to bring up a new topic. “You and Albedo are still going strong, hm?”
That brought a genuine smile to Kaeya’s face. “Indeed. That hasn't changed since you left,” he said, his tone exposing just how pleased he is about it. “While there were some special events, it hasn't deterred anything between us, luckily. I still love him with all my heart.”
“Good, good.” Varka himself found it warming to hear his people were doing good still.
But then, Kaeya asked him what Varka should have expected to be asked after bringing up the topic; “What about you? Still no luck despite how many people would willingly throw themselves at you?” that last bit was meant as a joke, since, well, a lot of people did in fact throw themselves at the Grand Master, but the man denies them all, claiming that all his loyalty was for the Anemo Archon (which, really, if you paid attention, was a weak excuse to hide that he simply didn't just want a random person that liked him, but one that he liked).
“Eh…” Varka murmured out, looking down at his half empty mug. His smile faltered. “I won't return to Nod-Krai for a while, unfortunately.”
The answer’s vague, but it doesn't take a lot for Kaeya to understand what it means. Before he can respond, both men notice a Knight in armor (on duty) approaching them.
“Grand Master and Calvary Captain!” Huffman saluted them, the man a little out of breath. “Preparations at the Thousand Winds temple are complete, and all participating Knights ought to make their way over there!”
Oh, right. Since the Grand Master has returned, for this year's Windblume, it was decided to hold a competition that was simply… trying to beat the Grand Master in combat. Every Knight of Favonius (and some special guests) was invited to compete, and many made an application, of which the strongest were selected to enter the competition (they couldn't have everyone compete, for they had to fit the event in two days at a certain time on both days). The event was held at the Thousand Winds temple, since it looked well enough like an arena, despite its crumbled state, and it'd create a thrilling atmosphere for both the participants and the viewers.
“Right,” Varka put his now empty mug down on the bar, leaving Mora to pay for both his and Kaeya’s drink. He breathed in, breathed out, and showed a big smile. “Let's get going then!”
-
The tribunes of the Temple were already packed with people, all waiting for the competition to begin. Of course it was like this, everyone wanted to see if their beloved Grand Master still remained as strong as he was when he left, or if he'd become even stronger. Perhaps weaker, but nobody truly thought like that.
The first few rounds were already being held, which were warmup rounds between other knights to show their strength, and also as just a friendly spar. Though, it wasn't long before the traveler, who was chosen as the narrator of the competition, announced Varka into the field.
As expected, when Varka approached the traveler, two claymores in hand, the applause was deafening. Scanning the tribunes, he could see all sorts of familiar faces; Amber, Herta, Sucrose, Mika, Skeiron, even Glory and Godwin were there (yes, Godwin had finally returned after his “excursion” in Nod-Krai. Whether he had yet to tell Glory the truth about his excursion or not, Varka hadn't checked on). Yet, it made him feel… empty. He knew why. It's because secretly, he'd hoped to see the most familiar one, the face he's been itching to see, been yearning for since he's officially returned to Mondstadt. It was nonsense that he had actual hopes for that, because Varka knows how busy the person of that face is with his own duties. That's the whole reason why Varka had to try his best to ignore the idea of just taking him with him to Mondstadt when he left Nod-Krai. Still, due to his own stupid fantasies, Varka was disappointed to not see him. But he couldn't dwell on this. He had a competition to win!
For the first round, Varka was against some of the most promising trainee Knights. Varka didn't hold back, but they weren't really a challenge for him. Though, he helped them up and praised them for what he saw that they did good. This was a great learning opportunity for them, after all. He wasn't the one who recruited them, but he sees why they were accepted.
The second round was trickier, but still not that hard. He did break a sweat, though! It was against Kaeya, Eula, and then two special guests which were Diluc and Durin. Visions were not allowed, since the Temple wasn't in the greatest condition for it to be safe to use them, but they still lasted fairly long. Also because it was 4v1, but also because these people were skilled with their chosen weapons, even Durin, who'd only learned how to wield his sword considerably recently, especially compared to his teammates. He'd generally been good with dodging and weaving and striking from behind. While they fared well, they eventually all were taken down by the Grand Master.
Though, Varka did get nervous when the traveler announced the final round.
“For our final round today, we'd like to welcome the Vice Captain of the 5th Company onto the field; Lohen!”
Varka was a strong man, and he could count the people he's come across that can match his strength on exactly one hand. Lohen was one of those people. If he thought he truly found a worthy opponent, Lohen was considered even stronger than Varka, and honestly, with their extreme differences in builds, it was a little scary. And with how Lohen walked up to Varka, the Grand Master knew he had every right to feel tense.
Lohen had his eyes locked onto him, narrowed and not blinking, and his sword was dragged onto the stone as he took steps closer and closer to the blonde, scraping as it loosely bobbed in his palm. “I've been waiting for a good fight ever since the Wild Hunt infiltrated Wolvendom,” he said nearly ominously, in a manner that sounded crazed, but not Lohen crazed. Luckily, he switched quickly and brought out what Varka was familiar with. “It's been so boring! Come on, give me all you got. I want this to be fun!” He smiled at the taller, excitement shown all throughout his body, and it made Varka's spirits raise.
“You bet, haha!” He laughed, determination replacing the tension he had.
And as soon as they were given the go, the fight was intense.
It had been the longest fight of the competition so far. Both men had quite the stamina, and both had an insane strength that kept them going. The crowd stayed until the very end, because the fight had been so intense that nearly no one could look away. When there were times where it was getting even a little boring, either Varka or Lohen would pull an action that sent a surge of excitement through the people, and whenever a winner seemed to come in sight, the other would do something to wipe that opportunity right from below their feet. Though, eventually, in some mysterious and magical way, Varka managed to take the crown, and the crowd went wild.
Varka was sweating insanely much, his clothing basically soaked and sticking to his body, hair not much different. His muscles ached and his claymores felt heavy in his grasp, but the adrenaline and the triumph feeling kept him from wanting to collapse right then and there. He pinned his claymores in the gaps between the stones he'd been fighting on for the last two to three hours (in total), and he went to help Lohen up with his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, and then waved at the crowd, which was still roaring. As he slowly turned to face every person in the circular tribunes, when he was about halfway, the time seemed to slow down.
Slowly, something was sticking out like a sore thumb. Someone. Someone in black and grey and lilac and darker shades of purple for clothing, someone with hair that bore the colors of a Padisarah but just a couple of shades darker, someone with eyes as yellow as Snapdragons — no, as bright as the moon, someone whose face was pale and looked like it'd never been scathed; a face Varka imagined when writing letters to it, a face Varka has been yearning to see ever since he last was forced to turn away from it.
The azure locks that adorned the man of nearly every one of Varka's waking thoughts blew behind him with the gentle wind that passed, all in the same direction, elegant as if it was a scene in a movie. It damn felt like it.
Flins looked right back at Varka, his position still, but his eyes were screaming the emotions he hid so well. He still hid them well, for Varka was the only one that could see them right now. If someone else were to look at the Fae, they'd think he was spacing out. But Varka could tell.
Varka's arms faltered back to his sides, his eyes unable to tear away from Flins. Even as Flins slowly forced himself to look away, even as the crowd slowly fell more and more silent as people grew tired and began noticing the change in Varka's demeanor. Eventually, Varka found himself walking towards the tribunes, his head tilting up more and more as he kept his eyes glued to his Fae, and when Flins started to walk to the side, Varka followed. But Varka was slower, and while his mind mostly only said ‘Flins’, it also collected the information that Flins was trying to get to him, even if it meant that he had to take steps away and disappear from view first.
Varka blinked when he no longer saw a single speck of his beloved, grasping together whatever he could of his thoughts and surroundings. ‘He's headed over here.’ he thought, eyes locking onto where every contestant of the competition had submerged from. All opponents were grouped up there along with Knights that all played a role in the competition; whether it be for guarding or for planning or anything of the likes.
‘He's headed over here.’ repeated in Varka's head, which got him to move his legs again, faster than before. His thoughts blocked out every other sound. He didn't even register how the crowd was slowly growing concerned, and how the traveler too had fallen silent because they wanted to celebrate Varka's victory but couldn't with the Grand Master being so out of it. Though no one approached him to see if he was okay, luckily.
As Varka approached the grouped up Knights (and special guests), he could see Flins again, being held up by someone, stopping him from entering what currently was the battlefield, keeping him away from Varka.
Varka could hear his name coming from the traveler in the distance when he started sprinting. The sprint didn't last long, since he'd already been halfway across the arena, and his legs were long enough to get him to his lover's side in mere strides. His sweaty arms engulfed Flins’ body, and he's never felt such a relief in a long time. He buried his face in the Fae’s neck, breathing in his scent, and he felt like he could collapse. Not dying of happiness quite yet, because he couldn't possibly die now Flins was in his arms again, but something close to it. Part of Varka reminded him that they were still in the open, still very much visible to everyone that was still present at the Thousand Winds temple, visible to every Knight Flins had wormed his way through in order to get to Varka, but when nearly porcelain pale arms covered in black and gray fabric slowly wrapped themselves around Varka's shoulders and returned the hug, the knight couldn't care less. The world was silent. Varka couldn't hear anything. Anything but the slight rustle of Flins’ clothing as he adjusted the arms resting on Varka. No crowd, no knights, no traveler or Paimon. Only Flins. Only Kyryll.
“Varka.” The way his name spilled from the Fae’s tongue was like a breath of fresh air, like a dip in a cold lake during a hot summer day, like hearing the one note in a song that gets goosebumps to show.
Hands moved to cup his face, lifting Varka's head from where it rested between Flins’ neck and shoulder. Varka was met with a smile that was created of pure adoration, and Flins was met with eyes with such fondness and love in them that made him throw away his elegant demeanor. This wasn't the first time that has happened, anyways. Varka had wormed his way into his heart, absolutely destroying some traditional Fae rules that applied to Flins, and raising Flins’ standards for said rules just as much. Being with this man had made Flins stray from his culture slightly, yet Varka had also strengthened his connection with his culture. It was odd, how Varka broke some Fae rules but also followed some of them strictly to please Flins and to show him his love. But if Varka was a little less oblivious, he knew that Flins had wanted to be with him even if he had to throw away everything of his culture. Perhaps Varka knew, but he simply didn't let Flins do so. No matter.
Throwing away his elegance, Flins brought Varka down into a kiss that could devour a person's entire soul. It started gentle, soft, just a quick ‘hello’, but it was quick to switch into something deeper, more passionate, filled with such love that it could belong in a romance novel.
And in this moment, Varka felt complete here, with Flins in his arms, in his homeland. He didn't even think about the fact that they remained in public, that eyes were on them, bulging at the fact that the Grand Master had a lover and simply didn't tell anyone, he didn't even feel the eyes dig into his back; a Kaenri'an eye that accompanied a smug look, blue eyes from a blonde woman that were opened wide in surprise, green eyes of a flirtatious librarian that adored the sight of true love, and more.
Varka's world was all Flins, and it'd continue to stay like that for the entirety of Flins’ visit to Mondstadt.