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Stomachaches were something Varka was used to. After all, the amount of beer, wine, and vodka he drinks would upset anyone's stomach.
An easy fix. Just a day of rest, and some concoction made from Albedo and Sucrose. Varka is back up, ready to take on the world.
But this time, it didn't work.
Varka lay in the rustic bed in his quarters in the Flagship. His stomach clenched at any thought of food or liquid. He winced, looking up at the ceiling light, then back down, straight at the switch. He lifts his arm like a child trying to harness the energy to turn it off with magic. Varka groaned as his arm went limp. The grandmaster turned on his right side, hoping the meds were just having a late start.
A gentle knock could be heard on the wooden door, followed by a soft voice.
“Grandmaster…? Are you alright…?”
The so-called Knight of Boras felt a string of energy bolt him up, hearing that familiar voice. He laughed loudly, trying to hide his ailment.
“Ah, Mr. Flins! I just drank a little too much, and…ARGH~”
A throbbing pain. Varka's head spun. He tried to ground himself by holding onto his own forehead, trying to alleviate the pressure.
“...Mr. Varka, is the door unlocked?”
“Mmf..y-yeah…”
A loud squeak could be heard as the knob turned. The door creaked open, revealing a pale man with yellow eyes, with no end to them. Long navy blue hair with teal tips. Feminine, yet an unspeakable, uncanny aura.
Even with the pain, the Grandmaster’s heart raced.
Archons, how is he even real…?
With a slow pace, Flins approached the Grandmaster's bedside and tilted his head.
“Sir, you are quite unwell. Is there anything I can do to alleviate your pain…?”
Varka's icy eyes drifted over to Flins.
Where to start… I want you.
“Haha…I guess some water, darker light, and something I can keep down in my stomach.”
The cheeky smile seemed to freeze the lightkeeper, but he shook his head and returned a soft smile.
“Very well then, I'll ask the tavern to get you some crackers, ginger tea, and water. I take that our meeting is postponed…?”
The blond eyebrows furrowed, and a sigh left the grandmaster's lips.
“I'm not one to put things off as important…but…I haven't had this much pain in some time. Sorry for making you come all this way for me to get sick, haha…agh…”
Another wave of pain shot through Varka’s stomach. His eyes watered, and he looked up.
“Hahaha…to think you see me in such a miserable state.”
Flins crossed his arms, shaking his head. His hair fluttered in the process.
“No worries at all, Mr. Varka. I'll fetch you the items you requested and help you get back on your feet. I don't mind a trip down here once in a while. However, there is one request I must make if I must wait for our business meeting.”
Varka turned on his side, trying to focus his blurry vision.
“And that is…?”
“I will need to rest here in your room. My checkout was today, and there are no other rooms available.”
A haze clouded Varka's mind. Even as his temperature fluctuated, extra heat raced across their face.
Am I dreaming…?
“Oh, of course! My room is your room, friend! I know your secret, so you'll be sleeping in your lantern, I take it!?”
A smirk, followed by a quiet chuckle, came from the fae.
“Heh, you know me so well, friend. Very well then, I'll be your personal caretaker until you're better. Best I be going now to get you better soon.”
Flins started to make his way out of the room. He took one last glance at Varka, giving him a small smile, and turned off the lights before heading out.
Varka turned belly first on his pillow, his stomach and heart torturing his mind and body.
Stomach problems aside, this was truly the most agonizing thing for the Grandmaster to endure.
Flins, a person he has become well acquainted with since the expedition here in Nod Krai, stole Varka's heart. However, they’re colleagues. Flins is a lightkeeper, better yet, a fae, a fae that is way older than he. And well, Varka's image as Grandmaster. What would people think if he were betrothed to someone like Flins…? A man? A man who is a fae way older than he is. Mondstadt praises and sings songs about freedom daily, but is that freedom truly there?
Let's not forget about all the googling eyes on the lightkeeper. So many women and men want him. The countless confessions he gets in a day when he is out are genuinely astounding. What chance does the Grandmaster have when all these people are fawning over him!?
Then there's Illuga. Sure, the man is younger than the keeper, but he definitely doesn't leave the fae alone. The way their eyes keep hold of Flins is no friendly gesture, heh. Varka has seen that look so many times from the people fawning over him. It's a look of lust.
A sudden gag emerged. Varka sat up, trying to hold any bile or leftover booze inside. His eyes blurred, his mind spun a million miles, before dissipating into unconsciousness.
“Mr. Varka…? Friend? Varrrkaaa…V-Varka! C-can you hear me!?”
The icy eyes sprang open, darting left and right, followed by a loud cough. White Cecilia flower petals fly out, slowly dropping around the grandmaster.
No...no no no no no…
Steady gloved hands grip onto Varka's, squeezing them tight.
“Look at me, friend. Look. At. Me.”
Varka's eyes start to settle and make their way to the soothing voice. They are met with a golden glow. Flins took a deep breath and spoke sternly.
“Good. Now tell me. Who do you like?”
The world came crashing down, like a vicious whirlwind of a storm from Dragonspine. Another deep cough, and more flowers were spat out from the Grandmaster. Then, a soft chuckle.
“Did people of Snezhnaya…have this disease?”
A smirk emerged on the keeper's face.
“As the nation of love, it was the place where it first originated. One of the original cryo archons thought it would be a great way to curse people for not communicating their true feelings. Of course, people have feelings towards others in different nations, so that it can occur to anyone. Guess it made its way to you.”
A soft sigh leaves Flin's lips as his leathered hand lets go of Varka's.
The grandmaster rolled his eyes. He attempted to sit up, dusting the petals off the bed to look at the nightstand. On it are a bowl of crackers, piping-hot ginger tea, and water. Heat pranced around Varka's face, seeing all the items requested by his bedside.
“T-thank you, friend. I really appreciate it. Hopefully, this helps lessen the symptoms.”
Varka reaches for the water and sips it. Flins watches attentively, not budging.
“Varka. Who do you like?”
Water is hissed all over the fae. Flins just wipes it off, as if nothing happened.
“Mr Flins. I appreciate the gesture of wanting to know everything about me, but what good will it do me to tell you about my love life…AHG!”
Another cough, a gag, and Varka throws up a whole Cecilia.
The light keeper had had enough. With both hands, he grabbed Varka's face and leaned close, noses touching. He stared directly into the eyes of the Knight of Boras.
“I want you to LIVE! The fact that you're coughing full flowers means you are on the brink of death! I need to know so we can get you two lovebirds together or get you to Lauma to have them removed! Now tell me, oh Grand Master, WHO. DO. YOU. LOVE!?”
Varka couldn't help but try to look away, but guilt swept his heart, hearing the plea from Flins. He looked down, his eyes blurring as he clenched his fists. His blond hair covers his face.
“...you…”
That's it. Our friendship. Ruined.
Time was frozen. No party moved. Just the sound and smells of each other's breath. Nothing seemed right. How could this happen so soon? Every mission, every moment together, was it all to come crumbling down?
Life flashed. Lips touched. Tears streamed down both faces. The flowers turned to dust.
The moment was so sudden, so fast, so unreal.
Varka's brain spun a million miles an hour. It was real. Friendship. Comadere. Everything the fae and grandmaster had been through was all real.
Varka leaned more into the kiss, groaning deeply. He moved his hands to wrap around Flin's waist, not wanting to let go. His purpose. His reason. His world. Flins was there, kissing him with everything he had, showing unspoken feelings, moaning lightly.
After a while, the two had to pause in the midst of the sudden intimacy. Both were catching their breath and laughing loudly. Flins spoke first.
“See my friend? Some problems can be so easy to solve if you just say something~”
“Would you call what we just did something friends do, lightkeeper~?”
Another round of laughter erupted from the men. However, Varka's stomach cramped, and he went back crouching.
“HnnnI thought requited love was the cure! What gives!?”
Flin hummed, running his hands through Varka's unkept hair.
“Nothing goes away overnight. You still need rest. After all, your body was just infested with flowers. You'll need a bland diet for some time. So no liquor for a bit~”
Varka pouted, his lips pursed.
“Aw man….”
A soft chuckle, followed by a tender kiss on the Grandmaster’s head. Flins leaned his head against Varka's.
“I'll give you all the love in the meantime~”
Varka smiled.
Love.
Our Love.