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Just like everyone else, Miles only thought of nothing but the best when the Traveler comes to mind.
She's the only outsider who was bestowed the title of Honorary Knight—though, there's not a lot of people who thought of her as an outsider anymore. He heard about her tales on not only securing the safety of the city but also saving the life of one of the Four Winds from the clutch of the Abyss. He also heard about the rumor that apparently she also got the recognition from the Boreas—Wolf of the North—himself further cementing her importance to the City of Freedom.
Her connections in Mondstadt are nothing to joke about too, between befriending some of the important figures of the Cathedral—Deacon Dahlia and the Idol Barbara—she is also often seen doing her daily commissions with some notable members of the Adventurer's Guild.
Aside from those factions, Miles can proudly say that the Traveler is the closest to the Knights of Favonius. Whenever she came back to Mondstadt, she always made sure to visit the Headquarter—or the bars where the knights often frequent—without fail. It was to be expected when most of the prominent knights of their faction foster a pretty close relationship with the Traveler.
Though known for her discipline and hardworking nature, he remembered seeing the Acting Grandmaster actively lowering her guard whenever she talked to the Traveler—something he only sees when she's only with her little sister.
He also knows that the Spindrift Knight started to soften up after befriending the Traveler, the same goes for the Kreideprinz. The forces of nature—The Spark Knight and the Draco Rubedo—also thought of the Traveler as one of their most important companions.
In conclusion, Miles also wants to be in her close circle just the people he mentioned.
Well, his inner monologue and that conclusion have little to do with each other, but he can't waste anymore time to expand on that exposition now that his chance is higher than he's ever had.
Whenever the Traveler sets foot in Mondstadt, she is always dragged off by other people before Miles can steel his nerves to strike a conversation with her. He was lucky enough to be stationed near the city gates as he could be one of the first few to know of her arrival compared to anyone else.
But as luck would have it, she would have other knights already picking her up or taking her to somewhere else. Amber the Outrider and the little Spark Knight were often to take her meeting the others or invite her to their shenanigans without giving him a chance to breathe.
His luck is no better in the HQ, because the Traveler would help the Acting Grandmaster with her work, spends most of her time with the librarian, or maybe helping the Spindrift Knight or the Kreideprinz with their missions.
If not for the knights, she would be taken away by her adventurer friends or the church members themselves.
There was quite some time after the resurrection of Durin, the calamity dragon—Now one of Mondstadt's strongest forces—where the Traveler weren't able to visit Mondstadt because of some urgent missions in other regions.
Miles was always seen waiting longingly near the gates, hoping to see the day where the Traveler would pass them. The wind would blow her beautiful blond hair along with the dandelions fluttering around her, making the sight even more ethereal than he could've think. She will laugh at something the White Helper was saying before directing her eyes towards Miles as she flashed him her sweet smile—even sweeter than the Dandelion Wine from the Dawn Winery.
Okay, maybe the feeling that he has for the Traveler is not very platonic.
But can you blame him? There's not many people in this realm that could take down a dragon while still looking as pretty as ever. Before meeting her, Miles thought that his type would be a shy kind of girl that he can give his protection to.
But when the Traveler struck him down in the training ground with a single move, Miles knew he's beyond screwed.
The moment Miles was waiting for finally arrived. The Traveler finally came back to Mondstadt after a long while along with the expedition team. Granted, his chance to talk to her diminishes even further because not only he's competing with the knights at the HQ, but also the members of the expedition. Vice-captain Lohen, Surveyor Mika, and even the Grandmaster.
But Miles remains optimistic because he's finally in the same town as his beloved.
The return of the expedition team signifies a whole week of banquet to give them a proper welcome. This means that all members of the Favonius Knights are cordially invited to attend this week filled with the finest wine accompanied by exceptional music.
That also means that this invitation is extended to the Honorary Knight herself along with the White Helper. Considering her significant role—yet again—in solving the incidents back at Nod-krai, it would be a crime to hold this party without her attendance.
Lucky for him too, the Traveler even offered to be their exclusive mixologist for the night. Miles was honored enough to be graced by her appearance after quite some time, now he's also being served a handmade cocktail by none other than her?
He wonders how much of his good karma was used for this.
Miles shyly peeks at the bartender over the glass he's sipping from, feeling his heart beat faster and the temperature of his body hiking further—that he blames the alcohol for—when he saw the Traveler laughing at something the Grandmaster was saying.
Swallowing the rest of the Fire Water punch that was soothed by the aftertaste of Smetana, Miles started looking for a window of opportunity. The bar had never been empty since the night started, as if the stools himself never remained empty for any longer than 5 seconds before another patron claimed it for themselves.
Miles already noted some people he knows circulating through the seats of the bar, to which he noticed that most of them are vision wielders. He saw notable members of the church, the captains of the knights, the owner of the Dawn winery, the adventurers of the guild, and even some important figures from Fontaine.
The other thing he noticed is that all of them took up the bar stools not only to order a custom drink from the bartender, but also to strike a conversation with the Traveler.
Ah, as expected, Miles of course has some competitors, right?
We're talking about the Honorary Knight here, it would be weird if Miles were the only one who holds romantic feelings for her as much as he wants that to be the reality. Not to mention, he won't even have a chance compared to those vision wielders!
Going up against the Cavalry Captain and the Spindrift Knight is one thousand lifetimes too early for someone like him, and then add the owner of the Dawn Winery into the mix and Miles might as well write his wills at this point in time.
But that doesn't mean he will go down without a fight, he's a knight of Favonius after all.
That's why he's been secretly nursing his one glass of drink since he arrived here as he saw more and more people emptying the bar stools after one glass too much for their tolerance.
He sees the Deacon and the scary lady from the church being dragged away by the Church's idol, and the rest of the knights—even the Acting Grandmaster—being taken to some tables to do some kind of toast. For the owner of the Dawn Winery—perfect, he had to take care of the drunk Cavalry Captain and a few members of the Adventurer's Guild.
Swallowing the last sip of his only glass, he slammed the glass on the wooden table as he steels himself to approach the empty bar in front of him. He doesn't need to be accepted, he only wants the Traveler to know of his feelings. Perhaps, the Traveler would take a notice of him after that, because to know is to love, and—
Oh.
The bar is not empty, at all.
Among the vacant bar stools, there is a singular seat that remained occupied even after this long night. That seat itself is positioned right in front of where the mixologist is standing, granting the customer the best chance to grab the bartender's attention whenever she moves around the bar.
Now that the bar is completely empty except for him, the last one standing is rewarded by the Traveler's full attention.
It was none other than Grandmaster Varka who occupied the last seat of the night who continues to liven it up with the Traveler. Miles at first thought it was unusual for the Grandmaster around this time to still remain sober, but then he saw the signature tankard made especially for him almost running empty before the blonde-haired girl adeptly added another round to the tankard with practice ease.
Now that he noticed this, he realized the Grandmaster never left the bar ever since they arrived at this place. Could it be the reason why he's so glued to that stool is to have his glass refilled in the most efficient manner possible?
As expected of the Grandmaster, he never ceases to disappoint.
Still it was a bit strange for him to just be rooted in one place when he's usually going around the crowd to challenge the others into a drinking competition. Miles' eyes went back to the smiling Traveler who just made Varka laugh out loud.
Is she the main reason?
Not only that she is the mixologist for the night, it could also be that the Grandmaster is using this time to properly express his gratitude and get to know their Honorary Knight more. He wasn't here when Traveler helped Mondstadt with its crisis after all, he must've felt indebted and a lot more curious regarding her.
Miles nodded to himself. Grandmaster is that kind of person after all. He made sure to memorize every knights' and trainees' names, even to their family members. Miles has lost count on how many knights Varka personally helped when their lives or their families were in dire situations. Not even then, he also helped them in tackling even the most mundane thing possible.
For example, the thing with Godwin and Glory from the first time they started dating, even solving Godwin's crisis after his lies about joining the expedition to his lover.
The Favonius truly must be the luckiest group to have him as their leader.
If he helped Godwin solve the troubles of his love life, maybe he could help Miles too with his current predicament? Knowing him, the Grandmaster would probably laugh as usual before giving him his full support with a pat on the back.
Oh, now Miles' doubt and nerves settles a bit more. Maybe it is better to have Varka being the last one on the bar instead of no one at all. With this situation, Miles could receive more moral support and probably a consolidation when he got rejected by the Traveler later.
Thanks to the Grandmaster, he's a lot more confident now.
With a deep breath, he approached the bar with newfound spirit behind his eyes. Barbatos, help him!
The sound of his footsteps cut through the noise of the crowd when he advanced even closer to the two powerhouses. Hearing him, both the Grandmaster and the Traveler cut their conversation short to check on the newcomer to the bar. The blond man's smile faded for a bit—as if he's annoyed for being interrupted? Maybe it's just Miles' imagination—before giving the knight his big signature grin.
"Well, if it isn't Miles? What do you need? Need to top off your drink?" He glanced at the Traveler who welcomed him with a sweet smile—be still his heart. "Or maybe you want to go on a drinking game with me?!" With a confident smirk, Varka pointed towards himself with one of his thumbs as his other hand waves the huge tankard in a taunting motion.
"Oh no, Grandmaster," His voice cracked a bit from the nerves, he coughs to clear his throat. "I just need another round." He smiles sheepishly as he places the empty glass on the bar.
"You were drinking the Iron Wolf, weren't you?" The Traveler accepted the empty glass to bring it behind the bar. "Would you like another one?"
Miles immediately shakes his head. "Oh please no, it was good but way too strong for someone like me." It would be a problem if he got drunk without sorting his matters first.
"Haha, it is the strongest drink I've ever made so far," The Traveler graced him with that melodious laugh of hers, almost entrancing Miles into the deep end. "How about I serve you Leisuretime Lightning? It's my twist on the famous Caramel Blaze."
It seems like Miles is overwhelmed by this much attention from the Traveler, he could only nod as a response.
"What, you also couldn't handle the Iron Wolf, Miles?" Varka jokingly complained from the side.
"Grandmaster, who would be able to handle something that strong? I doubt Captain Kaeya could even handle more than two rounds." Miles defended himself with a forlorn sigh.
"That's true, both Kaeya and Rosaria couldn't even stand on their feet after only drinking two glasses of this." A pout appeared on the older man's lips. "I should've trained their tolerance more after this."
A cheery laugh came behind the bar and Miles' head never turned so fast just to see that beautiful smile once again. "Don't be like that, Grandmaster. You know I made that drink because of you."
Miles' heart stopped at the revelation, but before he could ask more about it, the Grandmaster cut off his thoughts with his laugh. "That's true! I still can't believe you managed to create something so perfect for me after just telling you to be bolder with it." Taking another chug of his drink, the Grandmaster finishes off with a satisfied smile.
"Grandmaster, you helped a lot in the creation of this drink, you know?" Traveler reminded with a longing smile as she portions the Fruit Wine in the shaker. "I may be the one who made it but if not for your stories, this drink would never exist."
"Oh?" Varka leaned on the bar with both of his arms as a playful smile adorned his face. "Are you saying that this drink was made with only the thoughts of me in your mind?"
Putting the shaker back on the bar, the Traveler leaned over to get closer to the Grandmaster. "How would I create such an overpowering concoction if not for you, Grandmaster? This wouldn't happen if you're not the only one in my mind." She leans on one of her hands, propped up on the wooden bar.
"Are you asking me to take responsibility?" Varka leaned even closer. "Pray tell, Honorary Knight. How should I do that over this creation of ours?" A dulcet tone slowly covers the end of his sentence.
Okay, so what is happening?
If Miles doesn't know any better, he would've guessed that the Grandmaster is currently flirting with the Honorary Knight and she's actively reciprocating it. The way they're talking about this drink seemed as if they're just talking over their first newborns. Also, what was that tone from the Grandmaster? He never heard something like it coming from him.
When he's trying to process all of this, both of them are still looking at each other from such a close distance. As Miles saw the Traveler's playing with the end of her hair, he just has a feeling he needs to put a stop to this.
"Um," Clearing his throat, he managed to get both of their attention back.
"Oh yeah," The Honorary Knight immediately stepped back to direct her eyes back at the cutting board in front of her. "Ah, I need to get some more Cocoa for your drink. I'll be back." Off she goes to the storage room that is connected to the bar but not before Miles catches the tips of her ears turning red.
Varka only sipped his drink with a conniving smile on his mouth.
Miles used this time to scoot closer to his higher up. "Grandmaster, actually I need your help regarding something." He expressed with a small voice.
The blond man immediately perked up at the words, his expression turning into a serious scowl. "What's wrong? What do you need?" He glances at the storage door before going back to face Miles. "Is this something private? Do we need to take this aside?"
Miles nodded hesitantly. The Grandmaster must be thinking that he's been waiting for them to be alone to discuss some important matters. "Ah, no need. This is pertaining to the Honorary Knight after all."
He could see the Grandmaster relaxed for a bit but still maintaining his serious manner. "Do you have something to do with her? Maybe you need help to ask her for a favour or something? Or maybe you have some troubles with her?"
"No, no." Miles shakes his head. "It's kind of the opposite."
Varka blinked at him a few times before letting out a huge sigh. "Oh, you scared me. I thought the two of you had some issues." He pats his chest in relief.
"So, what is it? Do you want to say your gratitude to her or what?"
Miles offers him a shy smile. "Something like that."
He bites his lower lip in a stressed manner. He looked up to see Varka offering him a welcoming smile, ready to be a counselor in need. No time to mull it over before he loses his chance, might as well say it now or never.
"In all honesty, I actually have some feelings towards her," Putting a hand on his beating chest, he pushes forward. "The romantic kind." He said it, he finally said it. He can't keep these butterflies flying all over the inside of his stomach.
"I was thinking that maybe you could help me confess my feelings to her?" Letting out a huffed breath, Miles is trying to calm the racing heart beneath his ribcage.
He could imagine the Grandmaster letting out a huge laugh as he slapped Miles over and over on his back with a proud smile on his face. Then, he could helped with arranging a perfect time for Miles to meet the Traveler in a private setting, where he could bravely confront his feelings and freely express them towards her. Though he might get rejected, but what if there's a chance that the Traveler would blush beautifully at the confession before shyly accepting—
"Huh?"
A loud sound from his conversation partner interrupted his daydreaming. It sounded like someone questioning the sanity of the other person.
Miles looked up to see Varka staring back at him with an empty smile and wide eyes. He never saw this kind of expression from the Grandmaster, it is almost creepy from how uncanny it is. That is definitely not the kind of reaction he was expecting.
"Eh?" The knight questioned back from the surprise.
Varka only tilted his head as his smile grew wider. "Are you pulling my leg, right now?"
He asked with a cold prick lacing the tone of his voice, making it seem like the temperature of the room dropped a few degrees from his voice alone. The Grandmaster's smile, usually a source of boisterous warmth and encouragement, was now a strained grin stretched across his face that didn't reach those wide, unblinking eyes.
"N-no sir," Suddenly Miles feels like he's back at the training ground after making tons of mistakes in front of the Grandmaster.
The air in the tavern, already thick with the scent of alcohol, grew heavier with the tense atmosphere between the two of them. Miles felt a bead of cold sweat running down his spine. The Grandmaster kept staring at him with a piercing look, that smile gets scarier by the second. Miles looks around the place, trying discreetly to find help from his fellow knights but to his luck, most of them are already passed out on the ground or too focused on their drinking games.
He doesn't understand what's going on right now, why on Teyvat the Grandmaster got furious at him? Miles tried to look back at the things that he said and deemed that he wasn't being disrespectful or something like that.
"G-grandmaster?" Miles asked back, fear still evident in his voice.
The Knight of Boreas finally blinked a few times before forcing himself to relax on his seat, loosening his smile in the process. "I see." He suddenly leaned his head back, the wooden stool groaning from the shifting weight, as he huffed out a heavy breath. "So, you're really planning on confessing to the Traveler?"
Though he seems more like his usual self, Miles couldn't help but notice the obvious bite in his voice. Miles replied with a nod but Varka finds his response inadequate by moving the tankard with a harsh movement.
"Y-yes, Grandmaster!" He reflexively straightened his posture and almost threw a salute.
Varka only laughed at his response before slapping Miles' left shoulder a few times. Hard. "Hahaha, why are you so tense? You're speaking to me as if you're reporting to a higher up."
Miles can only rub the sore spot left by Varka—which he believed would turn into a bruise tomorrow morning—as he offers an awkward laugh of his own. You were the one who made it like that, Grandmaster.
Varka hummed a low, non-committal sound. He picked up his tankard, swirled the remaining liquid, and stared into the bottom of the cup as if he's searching for an answer. "
And you're… sure about this?" He raised one of his eyebrows at the end of his sentence, as if challenging Miles to take his words back before he's too late.
"More sure than I've been about anything, sir," Miles said, finding a sliver of courage. "She's… she's incredible." Swallowing the bile in his throat, Miles decided to continue. "The way she helps people without a second thought, the light in her eyes when she talks to her close companion, the way she fight—"
"Yes, yes, she's all sugar, spice, and everything nice," Varka interrupted with a flat tone, his hand made a waving motion signaling Miles to stop his words. He tears his head away from the tankard to seize Miles in another piercing glare.
"What are you seeking from confessing to her?"
Miles blinked, finding himself speechless at the question. Did something happen to his Grandmaster? That question is so out of character for him, Miles is seriously considering it could be the comeback of Albedo's impostor crisis. But nothing's been out of sorts from the Grandmaster since he came back, even when Miles approached him for tonight. Not until Miles expressed his intention regarding the Traveler.
"Wh—what?" He questioned back in pure confusion only to be met with a sharper glare. "I mean, I don't seek out anything from this except for some closure for myself!" He explained himself in panic. "I am expecting a total rejection from her after all!"
At that reply, he can see the Grandmaster's expression lighten significantly. The knight inwardly let out a huge sigh of relief of his own while unclenching the fists on his knees. "But if there's a small chance—" He accidentally let out a small part of his musings out to the air and the effect is instantaneous.
The warmth that had begun to creep back into Varka's expression froze solid in an instant. His eyes that were softening just mere seconds before reformed back into biting daggers, piercing through Miles' exterior right into his core. He turned his body slowly towards the knight, that genial yet empty smile made a resurgence on his face.
"A small chance? Of what?"
The knight's mouth opened and closed, like a fish gasping for oxygen.
A gentle slam landed right in front of him, slightly jolting Varka's tankard and Miles' empty glass on the wooden bar. "Answer me, Miles."
"A small chance to have my feelings reciprocated, sir!" Putting both hands behind his back, Miles tried to straighten his posture as much as he can with fright interlacing in his voice. What's the trigger again? It's definitely something about the Honorary Knight, right? Did he accidentally offend her with his words at some point?
"Look Miles, you're a good guy. I hate to see good guys like you have their heart broken." The Grandmaster said in a jovial tone, completely a different vibe than before. "I just wanted to tell you that, though it may be harsh, an advice from someone like me. Someone who knows a bit more things about her than, no offense, you."
Miles stared back, his mind jumbled trying to search for a response of any kind.
Varka took his silence as a signal to continue. "I suggest you just give up now and bury your feelings and expectations in the deepest part of your heart. Because maybe—just maybe, she already has someone special in her life?"
Though he framed it in a questioning tone in the end, Miles can clearly see that the Grandmaster knows more about this than he lets on.
"Grandmaster, do you…" Miles trailed off, wiping his sweaty palms on his knees. "Do you happen to know something about that? Is she already seeing someone?"
The blond man cleared his throat nervously, like he just said something he's not supposed to. "Well, not exactly, we're—Uh, I mean, they're not there yet," Dragging out the end of his sentence, Varka throws a glance towards the storage door.
"It's just a matter of time, y'know? It was very clear—maybe so?—that they have feelings for each other."
Miles only stared in disbelief as the Grandmaster scratched his cheek awkwardly. He took this time to ponder about his response regarding this newly updated information. Expecting that he would have a few other competitors that have better chances than him was something he was sure of, but now Traveler apparently already has someone in her heart?
Something that even the Grandmaster is sure of about the validity of this information aside from the margin of doubts?
"But they're still not together, right?" Miles asked in a hopeful tone, as he clung desperately to the flicker of hope burning in his chest. He would feel bad if he confessed to the Traveler when she's in a relationship with someone, but the Grandmaster only confirmed that she's holding someone dear in her heart. There's nothing wrong with his original plans!
"Doesn't that mean I can still confess to her?" The patrol knight exclaimed cheerfully, slamming his fist against the wooden bar with far more enthusiasm than necessary.
In that instant, Miles felt an unnatural cold seeping through his skin, crawling rapidly up his knuckles toward his wrist. He glanced down to discover a creeping layer of frost spreading across the bar's surface. He had to yank his hand away with considerable urgency before the encroaching ice claimed his hand to the effect of frostbite.
He traces the icy tracks back to the source, emanating directly from the Grandmaster's tankard itself. Inside the vessel, half-melted ice cubes clinked against the glass walls, swirling in a slow vortex animated by an invisible current of Anemo energy. One of Varka's large fingers circles the rim of the glass in accordance to the movement of the ice cubes, exuding a faint blue glow of Cryo from the tip of his fingers before bleeding down through the mug and spreading across the frozen countertop in increasingly elaborate patterns.
"Miles." The Grandmaster's voice cut through the background noise like a blade—not in a scolding tone, but more like the voice that he used when cornering an enemy with no escape route.
"It seems like you still need some remedial lessons regarding heeding your superior's advice."
Miles can only cowered back in fear as his fight-or-flight response kicked into overdrive—more on the flight side. The man before him was no longer the reliable and beloved Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius.
Instead, he had transformed into a looming shadow, the thirst for blood slowly seeping through the cracks of his carefully maintained self-control. Those blue eyes, usually as warm and inviting as Mondstadt's clear skies, had turned icy—colder than the ancient icicles clinging to Dragonspine's jagged peaks.
Miles is suddenly—and harshly—reminded as to why his Grandmaster received the ever elusive title of Boreas from the Wolf King of the North.
"G—Grandmaster?! Please get ahold—"
"What's going on here?"
The sound of the storage door creaking aloud immediately broke the tense atmosphere between the two. The Traveler finally came back with a tray of cocoa in her hands as her golden eyes flicker between the two knights with visible confusion and a hint of genuine concern.
In a flash, the Grandmaster immediately retracted back his fangs and settled back into the usual comforting, warm presence Miles had always known—kind-eyed, approachable, the beloved leader of the knights.
"Ah, Lumine! Did you manage to find the Cocoa?" He asked in a joking tone, his voice completely void of the previous threat. "You took so long, Miles almost went home!"
A few gentle slaps landed on Miles' arm as the Grandmaster let out his signature laugh. Still in disbelief from the contrast in change, the knight could only stare at the blonde mixologist with his still widened eyes.
"Sorry, it seems like the logistics team rearranged the supply room just before this! I'll make it for you right away!"
She rushes to the bar before placing the tray of cocoa besides the mixing situation. What she didn't expect is to be met with freezing cold when her hands made contact with the frozen countertop as a small noise of surprise escaped her mouth.
"Wh—Why is it frozen—Varka, did you do this?!" She planted her hands firmly on her hips, her lips curving into an exasperated pout. "Did you drink too much and let your control loosen for a bit again?"
The Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius—the man who had just moments ago exuded enough killing intent to make seasoned warriors tremble—actually had the decency to look sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks that had nothing to do with alcohol.
"Haha, that may be the case…" His voice trailed off in an act of submission. "Forgive me?" The man had the gall to tilt his head to the side, no doubt trying to act cute, as if he's not fully sober when he indirectly threatened Miles' life from sheer pressure alone.
"Varka." She scolded him with an unimpressed tone. "You're getting cut off for the night."
The Grandmaster proceeds to let out a whine that would have been more befitting of a child caught stealing cookies. He slumped dramatically against the partially frozen bar, his massive frame somehow managing to convey the pure essence of a pout as he grumbled unintelligible protests into the wood.
The Traveler simply sighs in response from seeing Varka's reaction to her authority. She placed a hand against the frost-covered counter, and a gentle warmth of Pyro energy emanated from her palm, carefully melting away the ice without damaging the wood beneath. The frost sizzled softly as it turned to steam, rising in gentle wisps around her.
But Miles noticed it. He couldn't help but notice the small, affectionate smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she worked—soft, fond, utterly at odds with her exasperated sigh.
"What were you talking about anyway for things to get out of hand?"
From that question, Miles is suddenly reminded of his main quest of the night. The reason he had worked up his courage, rehearsed his words, and marched into this place with his heart pounding in his chest. Now is the time. The timing might not work so well and the atmosphere is not exactly romantic, but Miles would be stupid if he doesn't grab this chance now.
"Actually, Traveler I have—"
A loud slam on the wood immediately cuts off the confession that is just hanging from the tip of his tongue. The sound was so loud it grabbed the attention of the whole crowd, making the place go silent from the sudden surprise.
Varka's massive hand lay flat against the bar, planted squarely in the space between Miles and the Traveler like a wall of flesh and bone. Miles's gaze traveled upward—past the wrist, up to the Grandmaster who had risen from his seat to his full, imposing height. His face remained an unreadable mask, betraying absolutely nothing.
Then, like the sun breaking through storm clouds, that expression melted into the sweetest, most disarming smile Miles had ever seen as Varka turned his head toward the Traveler.
"Haha! Oh, nothing important—he was just asking me about my swirling combination!" Varka chuckled warmly, reaching over to ruffle Miles's hair with enough force to make the young knight's head bob like a bobble doll.
"Kid's eager to learn, you know how young people are. Got so excited during the demonstration that things got a little... frosty."
From the Grandmaster's answer, the atmosphere around the place goes back to the noisy yet cheerful ambient as it was. But the Traveler's golden eyes narrowed slightly, disbelief written plainly across her features as she glanced between the two knights.
"Your… swirling combination. Uh-huh." she repeated flatly.
"Yeah, but I got a little out of hand when I was demonstrating an example, right Miles?" His head turned towards the knight but now he has a menacing smile on his face, as if daring him to tell the truth to the Traveler if he wants to lose his consciousness right about now.
"Y-yes, yes! That's precisely what happened!" He responded in a trembling voice. Oh, dear Barbatos, please save him now from this predicament.
"Don't be so tense, I'm not gonna hurt you!"
Varka boomed cheerfully, clapping Miles on the shoulder with enough force to nearly drive him through the floorboards. What was that before then? Miles's mind screamed internally, still haunted by the memory of those icy blue eyes and the suffocating bloodlust that had filled the tavern just minutes ago.
"You need something to loosen up," the Grandmaster continued, his gaze sweeping across the tavern before landing on a particularly rowdy table in the corner where several knights were engaged in a raucous drinking game. "Oi, you guys! Involve him in your games too!"
Before Miles could say anything about it, a small arm suddenly circled around his neck along with a comforting breeze to accompany the scent of dandelion wine.
"Hear ye, hear ye! Let this bard of yours serenade your night away!" It was none other than the famous bard of green who was often seen waxing poems and singing along the wind during the day before coursing through multiple taverns at night.
"Oh, Bar—Venti! Do me a favor and keep him company will you?" Varka recognized with relief and excitement in his voice as the bar surprisingly managed to pull him away from the bar with his small stature.
"Hoho! Surely you can bless our companionship with another bottle of dandelion wine to accompany our night?" Venti's eyes sparkled with mischief—and perhaps a hint of knowing amusement, as if he understood exactly what kind of situation he had just walked into.
The Grandmaster threw his head back with a booming laugh and raised a massive thumb in confirmation. "Consider it done!"
Miles, still confused and surprised, was led to an already occupied table with more familiar faces of the night. To say he will be meeting with not only the Cavalry Captain, the Chief Alchemist, and the 4th Company's captain, there's also the owner of the Dawn Winery himself.
"Now then, young knight! I hear you've had an eventful evening. Come, come—nothing soothes a broken heart quite like a friendly competition and a glass of Mondstadt's finest!"
He turned his head towards Venti with a clear confusion on his face. "Broken heart?"
"This is the table for the broken hearted,"
A voice emerged from beneath the table, and Miles nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized it belonged to Rosaria. The intimidating sister of the church was nursing her drink while leaning against the Chief Alchemist's seat, her usual sharp gaze somewhat dulled by what Miles suspected was a significant amount of alcohol.
Captain Albedo himself was slumped completely over the table, his face planted firmly against the wooden surface with all the grace of a marionette with cut strings. Beside him, Captain Eula muttered furiously under her breath about vengeance—specifically, against the Grandmaster..
"Rosaria, you make it sound like we actually got rejected," Captain Kaeya cut in, his normally smooth voice sloshing along with the golden liquid in his glass as he pointed vaguely in her direction. "We didn't even get a chance to confess."
"That damn Grandmaster—" Miles flinched as the Master of the Dawn Winery suddenly erupted, slamming his fist against the table with considerably less force than his rage suggested. "We knew her first, and yet you have the audacity to act the most possessive just because you bonded with her back in Nod-Krai?"
Diluc continued hurling curses entirely unbefitting of his status, the crimson flush creeping across his face completely at odds with the venom in his voice.
Is Master Diluc… drunk, right now?
"Mhmmf, mhmm, mmmfff…" Albedo seems like he had something to say about that, but his voice came out muffled because of his face being smushed against the table. Can he even breathe like that? Does Captain Albedo even need to breathe in the first place?
"Albedo said that the Grandmaster already fostered a much closer bond to the Traveler than most people here in the short time they shared, and it only strengthened after the mishap with the Bloodstained Knight and Aunt Alice's bubble device…" The draconic boy translated the drunken ramblings of his brother as he consolingly pat the alchemist's back.
"Ah, I heard about that. Didn't Hertha say that they apparently took the night watch together when the wine first arrived in our Keep there?" Kaeya wondered aloud, trying to remember exactly what the Logistic Coordinator said in his drunken haze.
Master Diluc looks offended at the story. "Can you shut up?"
"Captain Hertha also said that he personally gave her the formal training every time she visited there."
"Okay, Durin you're not helping."
"Anselm also said something about her being the only one who can find him when he was sneaking out to take his naps."
"Why are you still adding salt to our wounds? Next you're gonna say that she mostly spent her night in his tent after she got invited to the Favonius Keep?"
"Actually—"
"Durin." Now it's Eula's turn to glare daggers at the supposedly calamity dragon who cowers away in fear and tries to hide behind his brother's drunk form.
"At least the Grandmaster guarded the tent from outside whenever she stayed over with Paimon…"
"Oh, and that makes it better, huh?" The church lady complained sarcastically.
The green bard let out an amused laugh from their banter like it was the best comedic show he has seen after a long time. Taking a seat next to the red-haired Master, he took the bottle placed in front of Diluc's glass before pouring the contents into his own glass.
"Well, there's not much you can do when they share a title since the very first time she set foot in this place," In a cheering motion, he pointed towards the two people who remained at the bar, seemingly living up the time of their lives.
"The Ones who Caught the Wind."
Across the tavern, oblivious to the despair festering at the broken-hearted table, the Grandmaster was currently presenting his frozen hand to the Honorary Knight with all the sheepish charm of a puppy caught tracking mud indoors. He wiggled his frost-coated fingers demonstratively, earning another exasperated head shake from the Traveler.
She sighed—that same fond, long-suffering sigh from before—and took his freezing hand in both of hers. Gentle waves of Pyro energy radiated from her palms, warming the ice-laced skin until the frost melted away like snow beneath the spring sunrise. Droplets of water cascaded down his massive fingers, catching the tavern's firelight like scattered diamonds.
But then Varka made his next move.
He turned his hand within her grasp, reversing their positions until it was him holding her. Before the Traveler could react, he lifted her hand to his lips and placed a soft, lingering kiss against her knuckles. His mouth moved silently against her skin, forming words too quiet to hear—but the violent blush that erupted across the Traveler's cheeks told everyone exactly what sentiment had been conveyed.
Her golden eyes went wide, lips parting in surprise, as crimson spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She looked utterly flustered in a way Miles had never seen from the composed warrior who had faced down gods and monsters.
A chorus of loud, unplanned groans erupted from the table in perfect unison. Miles turned back to see every single occupant rolling their eyes and clicking their tongues in defeated annoyance before collectively throwing back another gulp of alcohol—no doubt hoping to erase this night from their memories by morning.
"Hey, remember when she spent some time alone with him on the hand of the statue in front of the Cathedral, under the moonlight—"
An even louder wave of groans cut Venti off mid-sentence, the bard's eyes sparkling with mischief at the misery he was so gleefully reigniting.
"Shut up, Venti."
The muffled complaint came from the alchemist, who had turned his head just enough to aim his glare at the offending bard without actually lifting his face from the table. It seemed even Captain Albedo wanted his displeasure clearly heard without requiring translation from the dragon companion at his side.
Venti's laughter rang out like wind chimes at the alchemist's response, the sound carrying a knowing amusement that suggested he had witnessed this exact scene play out many times before. He guided Miles into the empty seat beside him, waving an almost-empty bottle of dandelion wine in welcome like a flag of surrender—or perhaps recruitment.
Miles cast one last glance toward the bar.
Varka still held her hand in his, but the Traveler had shifted their grip, threading her fingers through his until their hands were properly interlaced. She's now looking straight at him with an affection so sweet, her fingers were woven securely between his own.
So that's why the Grandmaster never left the bar.
The realization settled over Miles like a cold rain. Varka hadn't been avoiding socializing or being too busy with knight business. He had been right there, exactly where he wanted to be, the entire time. Every moment Miles had spent building up courage, rehearsing confessions, dreaming of possibilities—the Grandmaster had already been securing her heart.
Miles had already lost the moment Varka formally presented himself in Nod-Krai—or perhaps even earlier, just as the bard suggested, from the very day she first set foot in Mondstadt.
What was I thinking?
He accepted the bottle from Venti, watching numbly as the bard joyously poured a generous portion into his glass. The amber liquid caught the firelight, warm and inviting and promising temporary oblivion.
I really dodged a bullet. If not for the Traveler's interruption—
Miles downed the entire glass in one go.
It seems he would need to forgo his plans on remaining sober tonight.