It's been years since you broke your own heart. Since the love of your life left on expedition, no longer your boyfriend. Since your world collapsed in on itself.Now he's on your threshold with that same easy smile, the exact same eyes as your son, and the truth you've been running from.
there is one part left- send an ask/dm/comment to be added to taglist
[ Reader ]
You weren't used to the silence.
At first, being able to work without having to have eyes in the back of your head was a relief. Raising a five year old in what was practically a herbologists' lab, was mentally exhausting. But now you had reached the third day working alone, the novelty of the quiet had worn off and it just felt... wrong.
There was a kind of guilt in the feeling. After all, you should feel pleased, relieved, that Varka had taken so enthusiastically to all that had been thrust upon him.
Instead you felt hollow.
You crushed the Calla Lilly beneath your blade harder than you meant to, sighing as the sap decorated the worn wood floor of the cottage. Another waste of an afternoon spent hiking and wading through the waters of Starfell Highland. Scraping the sad husk of Calla Lilly from the surface of your workbench, already becoming sticky, you checked the pungent tincture you had boiling.
You tried to focus on the task before you. The parenting break had meant you now had the time to restock your supplies, something well overdue. However, the more you tried to banish all the ache of longing from your chest, the more it reared its ugly head.
Of course you knew that no one with a modicum of self respect would turn around and want to play happy family after everything. This was, if anything, the best case scenario. Varka had reacted the best he could. You had expected this when you made your choices. You had anticipated this, had prepared yourself for it.
So why did it still hurt so much?
Knowing the two people you loved most in the world were out, forming their own memories without you, tasted bitter in your mouth on its own. But the thought that this was your forever, linked by co-parentage and nothing more, was suffocating.
You had done this all to yourself. It was the least you deserved.
Varka always had Leo home before sundown and worn out enough to make bedtimes easy. Sure, Leo would still babble your ear off, even around his toothbrush, about his day as you got him ready for sleep but he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
You were outside pulling in the laundry, the sun was cresting the hills, when Varka rounded the corner, Leo's little body curled in his broad arms and fast asleep.
Neither of you had spoken much during the previous pick ups and drop offs. Though that may have had more to do with your son making it difficult to get a word in edgeways. Now though, the quiet seemed to sit heavy with things left unsaid.
Varka dropped his chin, glancing down at the sleeping boy with a soft smile. Your heart compressed itself. As if he sensed it, those piercing blue eyes lifted to meet yours. You fought to keep the air in your lungs at the sight.
"I'll put him to bed if you want." His eyes didn't leave yours. His low voice, careful not to wake Leo, like a featherlike touch up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
You cleared your throat quietly, a desperate attempt to tamp some of the intensity. "S-Sure. Go in in."
Varka moved past you and into the cottage as you stayed outside, grateful for the space between you and the cool chill that sunset heralded.
For such a large man, he moved deceptively quietly. You barely noticed his return until he was almost upon you.
"Can I help?" He gestured to the basket against your hip.
It took a beat before you nodded, part surprised by his question and part admiring the glow of his blond hair in the day's final, golden rays. Varka took the basket, half-full of laundry, easily from your grasp, calloused fingers brushing against your own as he did. You did your best not to cradle your hand like it had been burned, focused determinedly on extracting the last of your washing from their pegs.
You broke first, his unwavering gaze almost tangible on the nape your neck. "How has he been adjusting? Leo I mean."
"I dunno if I know him well enough to tell you."
You winced, back still to him and wishing you could melt into the ground. You pulled the corner of a sheet off the laundry line with more gusto than required.
"He seems fine but... he's still calling me both Grandmaster and Dad."
You turned to face him but Varka didn't seem upset. In fact, he seemed more like himself than he had done for the past month.
"He'll get the hang of it..." You offered. Keen to change to subject you continued quickly. "Will you be taking him tomorrow as well?"
Varka didn't reply immediately, helping you wrangle the bed sheet into the basket before setting it down to fix you with his full attention. "No, I have other plans in mind."
"Oh." You supposed it had been a miracle he had so much of the week uninterrupted by work.
"Are you free tomorrow?"
You blinked at him. He'd never been one for small talk but maybe he was trying to make things less awkward. "No, I don't have plans tomorrow."
He fixed you with that devastating grin of his. "Great. I'll meet you at the Good Hunter after I finish up."
Surely, you were misunderstanding something here. "But tomorrow is the parade."
Varka's grin was unwavering. "Yeah, I'll meet you straight after. Promise not to make a lady wait this time."
"Okay." You breathed, doing your best to tamp down the wilful bubble of hope blossoming in your chest.
It's been years since you broke your own heart. Since the love of your life left on expedition, no longer your boyfriend. Since your world collapsed in on itself.Now he's on your threshold with that same easy smile, the exact same eyes as your son, and the truth you've been running from.
Not that he was going to war... Well, maybe he was already at war with himself.
He'd spent all weekend turning things over and over in his mind and even now his restlessness had him wearing a track into the floor with his relentless pacing.
It was unlike him to be so visibly agitated. Sure, when he encountered a problem he'd work at it until he wore it down to its barest variables, but rarely was he so all-consumed with an issue that it showed externally.
He had dissected every facet of your conversation at the Angel's Share. Every micro-expression, every word choice, every pause.
It was a bit like digging into an open wound. The image of your distraught expression was difficult to avoid, a lance through his heart every time it surfaced.
Still, something ate at him. Something that kept him from letting the memory rest, no matter how painful.
When Lisa had told him about your situation, about the timeline, he'd so easily concluded that the pregnancy had been the cause of the breakup. Maybe a part of him had been too eager to remove the burden of guilt from himself, to be able to say that something other than his own actions had been at fault.
Friday night had proved without any semblance of doubt that your pregnancy had no bearing on your decision to leave him. Which meant he was back to facing the truth he'd been trying to avoid all campaign: the fault lay with him.
He tugged at the collar of his dress uniform, fighting the urge to run for the nearest training dummy... or tavern, whichever was closest.
The first rays of dawn were just starting to decorate the polished wood of his desk and he eyed the papers splayed beside them with a sigh.
He hadn't been able to sit still all morning, constantly in and out of his seat, and had accomplished little. Work had been an excuse to escape from the apartment. It nothing more than a place to sleep that happened to have an excess of uncomfortable memories attached.
He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. He still had half a day to get through before you'd planned to meet and Varka was an impatient man. It was all he could do all weekend to stop himself from showing up on your doorstep now he'd decided how to proceed.
You'd been honest and vulnerable with him, and clearly apologetic. It was time for him to, at the very least, do the same, no matter how many years late that apology may be.
He had never been good with words, he wasn't unaware of that, and he'd agonised over how best to express himself. That much had kept him busy for the weekend at least. A part of him had even considered wandering into the Church to ask for advice but he'd dismissed the idea. Rosaria might look at him like he'd grown a second head if he asked her for help with people.
"You're early." Varka paused in his pacing and turned to find Jean in his doorframe. "I knocked."
Varka resumed his pacing, almost unconsciously. "I woke up early."
He could sense Jean move from the doorway and into the office from the gentle click of the door behind her. "Should I take the pacing as a sign that your talk with Y/N on Friday didn't go as well as you hoped?"
"It didn't go badly." He did his best to keep his tone even, lest he sound too defensive.
"And yet you look..." Jean obviously thought better of whatever she was about to say. Instead she cleared her throat and picked at an invisible piece of lint on her immaculate white dress uniform. "I thought you planned today with her in mind?"
"Do you ever think we give ourselves too much to it?"
Jean barely blinked as he ignored her question. "To what?"
Varka gestured around the room vaguely. "This."
"Never." Jean fixed him with a steady gaze. "Being a knight isn't a job, it's a duty. I've never thought of doing anything else."
Varka too, couldn't imagine not being a knight. Not after dedicating his life to Mondstat. What was he without the knighthood?
"But," Jean continued, a faint smile on her lips. "I am at a different point in my life. There are many ways we can fulfil our duty to Mondstat. After all, Barbatos is the archon of freedom."
***
Varka was sure the opening ceremony was enough to please the Anemo Archon himself. That drunken bard would be the only one who could sit through hours of hymns just for the pure enjoyment of it. Varka didn't have the ear to appreciate them, nor the motivation to learn. Instead he had spent the whole ceremony trying to avoid shifting uncomfortably in the starchy linens of his dress uniform at the very front of the Church. Jean shot occasional glances in his direction but had said nothing.
Even when the service concluded, he was delayed for several minutes by churchgoers offering their congratulations on the campaign and their safe return. He continued to be approached by civilians, even out in the courtyard beneath the statue of Barbatos as he tried to make his way back to the Knights' Headquarters. He did feel guilty at brushing them off so hastily, after all they were only pleased that he had returned their relatives safely and keen to hear news of his exploits. However, he was unable to forget that he was due to meet you at his office directly after the church service had concluded. It would not do to remind you exactly why you had chosen to leave him in the first place.
Despite his best intentions, you were already in his office when he arrived, but when he opened his mouth to offer an apology, you merely waved him off with a smile.
"It's okay, I wasn't waiting long."
The familiarity of those words did little to comfort him. How many times had he heard you offer them as consolation every time he was late for some planned date? dinner? birthday? event? Instead his heart constricted with guilt at the memories.
"Don't look like that." He could hear the playful pout in your words, an attempt to ease him, as he shrugged off his cloak and made his way behind his desk. "I'm not going to fault you for your duties as Grandmaster taking up your time."
Varka discarded his cloak carelessly on the back of his chair before sinking into it. You watched him carefully from your place opposite but, for once, he couldn't force a smile. "I was hoping not to make a habit of this again."
You regarded him calmly. "I don't know why this is weighing on you so much. I know you have a lot on your plate. I'm not going to expect you to place something above your duties."
Varka frowned slightly, searching your face. "Do you think you're not a priority to me?"
You shifted in your chair, avoiding his gaze. "That's not..." You sighed, focused determinedly on your hands in your lap. "You know that's not a fair question."
Varka stood, leaning his big body completely over the desk to reach for your restless hands. "Look, I know-" He paused, searching for the words he'd so meticulously tried to prepare. "Before things ended... I know I wasn't-"
"Varka." you tried to protest, but he bulldozed right over you.
"Look, things were crazy with work but... I didn't know you'd think you weren't a priority." Despite dwarfing yours, his hands squeezed your own with surprising gentleness. "I thought you knew how much you mean to me... I would go back and tell you that if I could."
"Varka..." You gave him a sad little smile, reaching forward to cup his cheek. "I know. I just.. I couldn't bear to see you tear yourself apart for me."
His head shot up from where he'd practically been nuzzling into your touch. "What?"
You shifted under the intensity of his gaze. "It was tearing you apart trying to choose between us. I saw you stay up all night every time we planned something just to catch up on work. And the look on your face when you were called away early... I just couldn't-"
Everything clicked in Varka's mind. "So you chose for me..."
You nodded, fixing him with a watery, apologetic smile. All Varka could do was pull you onto the polished wood of his desk and into his arms as he processed everything in its entirety for the first time.
"You're ridiculous." Varka murmured, unable to help the bubble of relief that had swelled in his chest. "As if my life would ever be any better without you in it."
You hiccuped a laugh into his shoulder. "In my defence, I was hormonal."
Varka pulled back abruptly, serious. "I've been thinking a lot about that."
"About my hormones?" You asked warily, not sure where he was going with this.
"What? No, about Leo." He placed both hands on your shoulders, looking more serious than he had your whole conversation. "I hope you know that I don't care if he's another man's child, I will love him as my own-"
"He's not." You had fixed him with a panicked expression and Varka short-circuted internally, had that not come out right?
"He's not what?"
"Varka, he-" You were positively distraught. "He's your son."
His child? He blinked. Once. Then twice.
Before he even formulated a semblance of a response, the door to his office flew open with a bang. Barrelling into the room with a poor junior knight in tow, was... him? The child was all wild blond hair and blue eyes as if he'd been plucked from Varka's baby pictures and didn't hesitate as he flung himself into your arms with a cry of 'Mama!'.
You had slid from Varka's desk as soon as the door had hit the wall and obliged the boy, lifting him into your arms despite the fact he was nearly too big for them.
"Mama...." He whined. He was obviously unimpressed with the way your gaze kept slipping hesitantly to Varka, grabbing your cheeks in his tiny hands and forcing you to look at him. "I thought you said that Great Master Varka lived here."
Despite everything Varka felt the corner of his mouth quirk, and watched with amusement as you flushed furiously.
"Grandmaster, my love, and he just works here."
The young knight, clearly uncomfortable at being involved in barging into the Grandmaster's office uninvited and glad to offer some method of distraction, smiled broadly. "But you're right next to him!"
Varka sent him a pointed glance that clearly said 'you can go now' and the knight quickly scurried from the room, closing the door with a click behind him.
Leo's little face peeked around your embrace and eyed Varka with newfound admiration. "Do you really have a huuuuge sword? Where is it? Can I see?"
"Leo-" You protested, clearly not the way you had planned to do your introduction, as he wriggled his little body out of your grasp and slid back to the floor.
Sure enough, he made his way right up to Varka until they were almost toe to toe, craning his head as far back as he could to look up at the Grandmaster.
Varka couldn't help but chuckle softly, moving to kneel in front of Leo lest he end up with some sort of neck strain. "Sure, I can show you. But I think your Mama has something to tell you first."
You shrunk under their, identical, expectant gazes, moving to take Leo's tiny hand in yours. "Leo, you remember I told you your Papa was away."
"Yes. On a hunting trip like Pepe's dad!" Leo nodded sagely.
"Close enough." You winced. "Well... Leo, this is your dad."
It's been years since you broke your own heart. Since the love of your life left on expedition, no longer your boyfriend. Since your world collapsed in on itself.Now he's on your threshold with that same easy smile, the exact same eyes as your son, and the truth you've been running from.
Between Leo and preparing for the homecoming celebration, you were run off your feet. While more knights had joined in the planning like Noelle had expected, they still had to attend to their regular duties, so as the week-long celebrations drew closer and the workload increased, more and more fell onto your plate. Most nights it was all you could do to make it home and get Leo in bed before collapsing in exhaustion.
It wasn't all bad. You knew first-hand how hard all the knights worked, and being able to plan something to celebrate both them and the rest of Mondstat was fulfilling. Plus, seeing Leo's little face light up whenever you explained the planned celebrations made things worth it.
You had been too inundated to get a chance to talk things out with Varka, despite frequently stumbling into each other in the corridor. You felt guilty whenever you had to rush off but he never seemed perturbed, just fixing you with that smile and asking if there was anything he could help with.
Being able to see Varka at work was a rare glimpse of another side to him. Sure, you'd seen how he acted with the other knights when you had been together, but this was different. He was frequently at the training grounds, a fact you were only aware of because the window of your makeshift office faced them, coaching the junior knights through their sword drills. You'd never really imagined what he'd be like as a teacher, he always seemed so naturally good at things, but he handled them with surprising ease. He was caring without coddling them, he challenged them without pushing them too far and he was firm but fair with each of them.
"You know he wouldn't leave for expedition until I made an oath to look after his little wolf cub."
You turned from the window, startled, to see Lisa, smirking that she had caught you red-handed. "Are you talking the boy he found in Wolvendom?"
Lisa hummed in affirmation, arms crossed over her chest as she regarded you with a gaze that seemed to see entirely too much. "I heard Noelle talked you in to going to Angel's Share tonight."
Right. You remembered promising Noelle that you would go out to celebrate your hard work before the week of the homecoming celebrations. At the time it had seemed so far away, was it that time already?
"Perhaps it's a good opportunity." Lisa mused, interrupting your thoughts as she nodded at the window. "I presume you both have been entirely too busy to have a proper discussion."
You eyed her warily. Varka had presumably told the knights, or at the very least Jean, about your situation. "I'm not sure if the Tavern is the best place for that kind of discussion."
She cocked her head slightly. "Is there ever a best place for that kind of discussion?"
You supposed not.
That evening, Lisa's words echoing in your ear, you steeled yourself for the inevitable. Trailing slightly behind Noelle and a handful of knights from the logistics company as you weaved your way through the vendors closing up for the night and down to the Tavern by the city walls.
Given it was the Friday before a massive week of celebration, Angel's Share was packed. Both Master Diluc and Charles were behind the bar serving patrons. You took Noelle's hand and began to guide her through the crush of bodies by the entrance and upstairs where the knights' had booked a table. You could hear her squeaking polite apologies to everyone you eased past from behind you.
The upper level was full, but much less crowed with everyone seated at their respective tables.
"Master Jean, Grandmaster Varka!" Noelle exclaimed as she rushed to the large table by the far wall, already half occupied with knights. "I'm so sorry we are late."
"Noelle, it's not a meeting." Jean reassured, waving you over. "I'm glad you could come, Y/N"
You smiled at Jean and eyed Varka who was standing, having shot from his seat upon your arrival. "I think we have enough chairs, thanks you can keep yours."
"Oh.. Right." He was quick to retake his seat, looking slightly embarrassed which was a rare look for him.
After what Diona had mentioned about Varka's apparent drinking habits, you had watched him for a while but he didn't seem to be partaking much more than the other knights present. You were inclined to believe Diona had misheard but there really was no mistaking 'Grandmaster' easily.
"Hey," You blinked, Varka's blue eyes were gazing down at you. He was tall, but with you sitting he towered over you, broad form filling most of you vision. "Do you wanna get some air?" He did a little motion with his head toward the door to the balcony and offered you a hand.
You sighed internally. It was best to get this over with. Nodding, you let him help you up, his large hand dwarfing yours. He didn't drop your hand as he led you outside, the lightest of touches on the small of your back as he guided you to a secluded table around the corner, giving a hint of privacy.
"Before you say anything, can I explain myself?" You blurted, unable to bear even a hint of his disappointment. "You're owed that much... and more."
Varka stared at you a moment, perhaps taken aback. "Sure."
You nodded, more to yourself than anything and sucked in a steeling breath. "Okay..." You could feel the tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes and the burn in your throat as you forced them back.
Varka seemed to sense your struggle and spoke first. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Just the sound of his voice, the edge of vulnerability in it, and the tears started spilling. "I didn't know until after you left." Your voice wobbled as you tried to hold it together. The last thing you had wanted to do was cry, to cry and make him feel sorry for you. Would that not just make it seem like you were trying to get out of accountability?
You shoved the tears away with the heel of your palm and sucked in a ragged breath. "I didn't want you to choose."
"Choose?" He echoed hallowly.
You nodded, sucking in another sniffling breath. "You were always made to choose. And-And I hated the way it weighed on you." You shoved away more tears with your hand. "If I told you... You would have had to choose between me or the expedition and I couldn't- I couldn't-"
You were fully sobbing now, ugly sobs that racked your whole body. Varka said nothing, just pulled you into his chest as you howled into the fabric of his shirt.
You stayed like that for a long time, even after you had cried yourself hoarse. Varka rubbing small circles into your back as you calmed, lungs filled with his scent on every breath.
"Y/N?"
You lifted your face from his more-than-damp shirt to look at him.
"Will you ever think of yourself for once?" He wasn't chastising you, instead regarding you with a soft, but sad, smile. "It was my choice to take on this role knowing that it came with these kinds of decisions. Why should you have to bear the burden of my choice for me?"
You shot him a sheepish, if watery, smile. "Because I love you."
Varka's lips were on yours before you could even blink, his hand cradling the back of your head to hold you to him. The kiss wasn't searing like the ones you had come to expect from him, but soft and careful and...way too short.
"Sorry." Varka had pulled away and it was all you could do not to chase his lips with yours.
You tamped down the ache of disappointment. "Its okay." Did he regret it kissing you? You shook the thought away, it was too painful to deal with right now and cleared your throat awkwardly. "So you should probably meet Leo, right?"
He frowned. "Leo?"
Shame crept into your bones as you realised you'd never even told him his son's name. "The baby. I mean, he's not really much of a baby now-"
"I'd like that." Varka reached out and took one of your hands in both of his large ones. "I've actually been thinking a lot since that night. Been trying to do more things that kids can get into. We're gonna give tours of the headquarters on Monday... If that's something he'd be interested in...?"
You squeezed his hands. "You have no idea how much he'd like that."
[NSFW] what you and satan were really getting up to before levi called
[AKA NSFW under the cut]
All green dialogue is Satan's dialogue from the game lol
"I'm done letting things get in the way of my desire for you."
Satan's candid admission had your legs wobbling and the demon practically growled at the sight, snaking an arm round your waist to tug your body against him. "mm... Y/N, come closer."
Too touch-starved to let yet another moment pass without the taste of you, Satan tugged your face into a ravenous kiss. He was sure, your body pressed firmly against his own like this, that you could feel how achingly hard he was for you already. How many long nights had he spent alone in this very same office, unable to think of anything but your touch?
As if you read his thoughts, your hand slid down his torso to palm his cock through the fabric of his dress pants.
Satan groaned audibly at your touch. "Mhm.. I love when you touch me there." He moved a large hand to cover yours, guiding you to press harder. "Keep going."
The phone rang.
Satan frowned as you pulled away, stilling your hand. "...Leave it. Kiss me, Y/N."
You didn't kiss him. Instead Satan felt all the air leave his lungs as you dropped to your knees before him. He was faintly aware of the backs of his thighs hitting the desk behind him, or his grip curl around the edge of the wood either side of him, as you unfastened his pants with practiced fingers.
Satan could have cried out as you took his neglected cock into the wet heat of your mouth. Had be been anywhere else he would have. But he was painfully aware of the fact his office door was anything but soundproof...and of the fact the phone was now on its second ring, even as you took him deep into your throat.
When the phone rang a third time, making you cease your worship of his cock and shoot him a pointed look that said 'you should probably get that', Satan was livid.
He snatched the phone off the table, a small miracle he didn't snap it in two with his grasp, and answered the call with a snap. "Who is it?! I'll kill you!!!"
"I wouldn't call if it wasn't serious, it's about the coronation!" Levi's voice, tinged with a note of panic, sung out from the other end of the line. At the same time, Satan was keenly aware of the way your deft fingers encircled his shaft lazily, as if in an attempt to soothe his rage.
Even if you were somewhat successful, Satan was still irritated."Huh? What is it, Leviathan? Shut up and talk already!"
Satan fisted a hand into your hair as wrapped a hand fully around the length of Satan's cock and began to jerk him off, your face still tantalisingly close. He did his best to listen to Levi as you swiped a thumb over his slit.
"A guest is gone!"
"What? Gone?" Satan frowned. "Thats none of my..." Satan choked back a groan as you replaced your thumb with your tongue, eagerly lapping up the pre-cum he began to leak there. He struggled to form words, watching in almost awe as you took him into your mouth again. His free hand returned to the desk for support, knuckles white as you pressed yourself further down his length.
"Thats..." The wood cracked under his grip as you reached your limit, choking on how deep you had taken him. "None of..."
Seeing his turmoil, you took pity on him. With one last bob of your throat, you popped off his cock with a noise you hoped wasn't audible enough for poor Levi to hear through the phone.
"Damn it!" Satan hissed. A devious part of you took a guilty pleasure in the way Satan's eyelids fluttered, or the hard way he swallowed before he spoke again. "I'm coming. Hang on."
Satan hung up hastily and turned his attention to you, looking almost sheepish. "Y/N, um... it seems like something's happened"
You blinked up from below him, all innocence even with his cock still out and in your face. "Five more minutes?"
If Satan was the demon of pride, maybe he would have protested at your proposed timeframe. However, Satan was not the avatar of pride and he had long since come to terms with the pathetic mess you made him.
"...Tch..." He supposed he didn't want to sound as eager as he really was to delay duty for a moment more with you. "Okay, just five minutes..."
You didn't wait for him to change his mind, and Satan didn't bother to mask his groan at the feeling of your hand returning to his shaft. Your tongue darted out, teasing the underside of his head. Satan did his best to still his desperate hips, watching with wide eyes as you dribbled spit onto his leaking tip, smearing it down the length of him with your hand before you settled your grip at the base. Satan knew what came next, but the knowledge only served to make him harder. You pressed a tender kiss to the head of his cock, hollowing your cheeks to pull him into your mouth. Satan couldn't help the way his eyes rolled back at the sensation. You took him further, deeper, until your lips met the side of the fist wrapped around him.
And then you moved. Mouth and hand in synch as if one, free hand digging into the flesh of his thigh to steady yourself. Satan knew he wouldn't last long but with your tongue teasing the underside of him and the soft sounds of your pleasure muffled around his cock, his orgasm was bearing down upon him. He was no longer able to keep his hips from stuttering or find it in him to muffle the groans rising from him.
He came hard. All the weeks of desperation spilling out of him with a vengeance. His determined human, he watched your futile attempt to swallow it all, even as he continued to pulse more and more ribbons of cum into your perfect little mouth.
When he did finally pull himself from your mouth, he reached down to wipe his cum from the edges of your lips before pulling you to your feet and into a searing kiss. A part of him triumphing at the taste on himself on you.
It's been years since you broke your own heart. Since the love of your life left on expedition, no longer your boyfriend. Since your world collapsed in on itself.Now he's on your threshold with that same easy smile, the exact same eyes as your son, and the truth you've been running from.
—tags; angst, secret pregnancy/hidden baby, slightly ooc, POV alternating, published before Varka playable
—warnings; mentions of past pregnancy, mentions of unhealthy use of alcohol, mentions of perceived infidelity, secrets/betrayal between main couple, miscommunication as a plot device
It's been years since you broke your own heart. Since the love of your life left on expedition, no longer your boyfriend. Since your world collapsed in on itself.Now he's on your threshold with that same easy smile, the exact same eyes as your son, and the truth you've been running from.
this is the final part, taglist for this fic is closed. Thank you everyone for the support for this fic <3
[ Reader ]
***
How many times had you walked the worn cobbles of Mondstadt City's main streets? Yet, you couldn't seem to recall a time you'd ever felt so on edge in the city. This week, every time you'd left the house you found yourself fielding prying questions, or pretending not to hear the too-loud whispers that followed you like a shadow. In the main city, you had reasoned, the gossip was bound to be tenfold.
Tonight though, in all the bustle on the streets, no one seemed to pay you any mind. Too preoccupied with discussion of the parade and the knights to even notice you pass by as you found your way to The Good Hunter.
Being early evening on a Friday, there was already a generous amount of patrons filling the air with chatter. Despite the small crowd, you spotted Varka easily, leaning against the wall out of the way. His blond hair shone in the waning light of evening and, even seperate from the main crowd, he towered above others still dressed in his stark white uniform.
"You're early." You noted as you drew close enough for him to hear.
He turned at your voice, grin spreading across his face at the sight of you. "Well it would be rude to keep a lady waiting twice in one week." He cleared his throat as you shot him a wry smile. "I do have a favour to ask too.." You quirked an eyebrow, urging him to go on. "Can we go back home so I can finally get out of this thing?" He tugged at his collar, as if trying to loosen it, to illustrate his point before picking up two paper bags from his feet and holding them up to you. "I may have ordered for us..."
You took a bag and peered inside. Of course he still remembered your order. He watched you closely as you did, awaiting your judgement.
"Fine." You were glad for an excuse to escape the curious, gossiping, eyes that would inevitably come with dining together.
Varka's apartment was practically as you had left it. A cosy little studio in the city filled with furniture you still remembered helping him pick out. The covers on his side of the bed were unmade, like he'd flung them open in a rush and run out of time to make them. Varka deposited his paper bag onto the round four-person dining table by the wall and, in the corner of your eye, you caught him grab a handful of whetstones off the coffee table and deposit them on his nightstand.
You moved to place your bag of food on the table next to his and set about, almost automatically, locating cutlery for the two of you.
"Well, make yourself- I mean, you can start without me..."
Make yourself at home he was going to say, but you were too distracted by the fact that when you turned to look at him he was completely and utterly bare-chested for his blunder to even register.
Despite how much he claimed to hate it, Varka in his dress uniform was your guilty pleasure. Perhaps because it was the only tailored thing he owned and subsequently seemed to mould to every dip and valley in the muscles of his arm. Still, it didn't do anywhere near justice to depicting just how defined he really was. In truth, the man was almost all muscle, especially in his shoulders.
"You have new scars..." Your eyes fixed on the still pink markings in their movement as Varka leaned down to grab a, presumably, half-worn shirt off the floor. His eyes found yours for a moment and you realised, watching the smug smile flicker across his face, that you'd been staring.
"I didn't just go camping for five years." He pulled the shirt he'd found overhead. "You should start or the food'll get cold."
If Varka felt as awkward as you did about your current situation, he did a good job of not showing it. He didn't shy away from sharing stories of his exploits during the campaign between bites of food, even as you were sat wracked with the clawing sense of deja vu. You could recall more times than you could count being seated at the same table, with the same man, hearing him revel in his storytelling... all in a completely different time. It was jarring.
"You're quiet." Varka noted. He'd turned serious now, full attention on you, and slid a hand across the table to you.
You couldn't find it in yourself not to take it, revelling in the warmth the touch sent up your fingers. "I'm worried." You said finally, keeping your gaze on your hand where he held it. Varka didn't speak but you could feel he was still watching you expectantly, waiting for you to go on. "Just... about how this is all going to work. I mean, do we do one week on, one week off? Does that even work for you with work? Or every other-"
"Hey," Varka was kneeling at your side, hands on your shoulders. "woah there, slow down."
You blinked at him, taking a deep, steadying breath. "But I thought.."
He laughed, but it lacked its usual mirth. "I didn't ask you to come tonight because I wanted to talk about any of that." The words alone sent your mind racing at a mile a minute. Outside of Leo, what other reason would he have for wanting to see you? Surely, after everything, this politeness was a formality for the sake of your son and nothing else.
"I wanted to know if you'd try again. With me... At us."
Your heart was in your throat. "I-"
Varka took both your hands in his, almost pleading though his voice remained steady. "I'm stepping down as Grandmaster."
That snapped you out of your daze. "You're what?"
Varka didn't falter. "After Jean's leave she'll become Grandmaster and I'll take her place as Knight Captain."
"You leaving your position because of me is exactly what I didn't want you to have to do!" You could feel the panic rising within you. Was this not everything you had worked to prevent? To protect him from this exact choice?
"This is my choice to make." Varka could already see the anguish in your face. "I'm still a knight, just one with less paperwork and more time for the people who matter most."
"But-"
Varka chuckled, pressing one calloused thumb against your lips as he tilted your head up with a hand to your chin. "Are you really that against getting back together?"
"No, of course not-"
"Then you should stop trying to blame yourself and let me kiss you."
[ Epilogue ]
"I have my own bedroom!" Leo practically screeched in delight as he dashed for the door in the newly-built addition to your Springvale cottage.
"Dad and Mama don't even have their own bedrooms." Varka called after him, making you roll your eyes. Varka had finally completed the extension to the cottage after countless weekends of work (and a little local help) and was, rightfully, pleased with himself.
"And would Mama like to see her finished bedroom?" Varka turned to you, smirk on his face. "You do have to share it though."
"Oh?" You feigned indifference. "I guess I'll have to see if it's worth sharing then." Varka laughed lightly, taking your hand and planting a kiss to your knuckles before leading you forward. You had to stop yourself from bouncing on your toes in excitement. Sure, you'd seen it mid-build, but for the last few weeks Varka had practically banned you from seeing the progress, wanting to surprise you with the finished product.
"Here we are." Varka announced as he opened the door and stepped aside to let you in ahead of him. The very first thing you noticed was-
"The bed!" You whirled around to face Varka. "Do not tell me that is the bed we couldn't buy because it was too big for your place."
Varka smirked, smug. "The very one."
You had to stop your yaw from dropping. "That was almost 10 years ago, how did you even find it?" Varka just shrugged, watching with pleasure as you began to take in the rest of the room. You didn't want to sound too much like your son, but after years of living in a single room cottage, having a bedroom that didn't also double as a kitchen was a supreme luxury.
Varka moved to pull you into his arms. "I take your silence as approval?"
You hummed, twisting around in his embrace to continue admiring the room with his arms still around you. "Very much so."
"So much so that you could kiss the builder?" He asked as you let him tilt your head back to look up at him.
You laughed. "You know you'd get one either way."
He hummed happily as he leaned down to capture your lips with his, arms still holding you firmly in place. Aware of your son just down the hall, Varka was gentle but he still didn't miss the opportunity to nip at your lower lip in teasing.
"Gross. Are you kissing again?"
You turned, breaking the kiss, to see Leo making an over exaggerated gagging motion.
It's been years since you broke your own heart. Since the love of your life left on expedition, no longer your boyfriend. Since your world collapsed in on itself.Now he's on your threshold with that same easy smile, the exact same eyes as your son, and the truth you've been running from.
Varka had never considered the intricacies of how difficult it was to be a single parent in Mondstat before. It wasn't that he didn't care, he knew parenting alone was difficult, but he had never had reason to imagine exactly what that entailed. Working, childcare, education... it was all something that had never had reason to cross his mind.
It only made him more determined to do more and ensure the upcoming celebrations were something all the people of Mondstat could enjoy. At his suggestion, Noelle and some of the rookie knights had been visiting the villages outside of Mondstat city and conducting outreach programs with the children. Not only would it raise awareness of the knights' role with the children and community, but it would allow them to better understand the issues outside the main city.
Varka sighed, eyeing the mountain of papers on his desk with distaste, a headache already forming behind his eyes. Overseeing the reintegration of the expedition force with Jean and putting out any fires that arose had meant he'd had little time to spare to work on much else.
He rose from his desk, a short break wouldn't kill him, and made his way out of his office. He'd check in with Noelle about his new plans for the campaign celebrations and then stop by the training grounds to clear his head quickly. He'd wanted to do more than have the celebrations simply be 'family-friendly'. Perhaps they could have an 'Open Day' for the Knights' Headquarters...
"Noelle, I was thinking..."
Varka stopped still in the doorway to the makeshift planning room.
You shifted awkwardly at your desk under the intensity of his gaze. "You just missed her."
"Yes... I gathered that." Varka cleared his throat, regaining what he hoped was a semblance of composure. This was the first time he had been alone with you since the campaign and that thought kept forcing itself to the forefront of his brain.
"If it's about the campaign celebrations I can help. Noelle is pretty busy with everything else on her plate right now."
"Right, yes." Varka forced himself from the doorway and further into the room. All the way into the chair opposite you. "I wasn't expecting to see you here." He added quietly, which was a word not often used to describe him.
You busied yourself neatening the nearest stack of paper to avoid facing that all-too-familiar gaze. "Yes, well. It was a favour for someone."
Varka laughed at that. A proper laugh, one he had rarely felt in years. "A favour? You are a sucker for those."
You flushed ever so slightly, half at the embarrassment of him knowing you all too well and half at the way your stomach flipped at the sound of his laugh, that low, hearty chuckle that you remembered so vividly. It always seemed to suck the awkwardness out of a room, no matter who was present. For such a large, physically imposing man to have the ability to put others at ease with so little effort was always endearing and you hid your smile.
"Did you come here just to tease me, Grandmaster?"
That crooked grin you loved so much made its way across his face. "You know I don't have the patience to tease."
You really did flush white hot at that, turning away from him in a futile attempt to keep your dignity intact but he only laughed. Your stupid, fickle heart tied itself in knots. The way he spoke, like no time had passed, like nothing had gone wrong between you, ignited a yearning within you, one that you knew would burn you all over again.
You changed the subject, trying your best to force a wall back between you. "So what did you need from Noelle, Grandmaster."
You caught the way the corner of his mouth faltered slightly. He leant back into the chair, creating more distance between you and your heart squeezed.
"I just had some ideas I wanted to run past her."
***
By the time Varka left his office, the sun had set. He couldn't help the way his eye was drawn to your office. It was the only one alight in the whole building and through the slightly ajar door, he could see you hunched at your desk. He ignored the tugging in his heart that told him to go to you, as he had been all day, and instead turned away from the light of your office, remembering your reaction to him earlier.
He ran a restless hand through his hair as he stepped out into the night. Like most nights, he didn't head straight home. After all, the cozy city apartment had been the one you'd shared and it had really never been a source of comfort since you left.
The Angel's Share was packed, as it always was at this time of night. Charles, the bartender, barely blinked when he sidled up to the bar, sliding him a large flagon of ale without a word.
Maybe if he was still on campaign, he would have sought out the other knights. They were hard to miss, loud and raucous in the downstairs seating section. Tonight though, he wandered upstairs and out onto the balcony, savouring the cool night air on his face and the relative quiet.
No matter how deep into his cups he got, he never found the kind of clarity he was seeking, just muffled the swirl of emotions tormenting his mind. Things were usually so black and white. Either they were or they weren't. You betrayed him or you didn't. You loved him or you didn't. Either he still loved you or he didn't.
But he couldn't sort his emotions into such easy categories. There was a part of him, a dark selfish part, that wished it was his child. That he could slot himself into your life again so easily. Some nights when he tried to sleep, he wanted it so fiercely that it felt like he could wish it into existence with his desperation alone.
He knew there was things he should feel. At this point his whole existence felt like one big should. How a grandmaster should act. What he should do. How he should talk. He couldn't bring himself to twist himself into knots over how he should feel as well.
But what did he feel? Even he wasn't entirely sure at this point. If anything, the only emotion he could discern was a deep, aching loneliness... and confusion.
There were things that still didn't entirely make sense to Varka. Today had only reiterated that to him. He had seen you with his own two eyes working into the night for a role that was a favour for someone else. He had seen the pile of work on your desk but even still, when he came asking for Noelle you had offered to take the task on because you knew she was busy.
It wasn't that this was unlike you. He remembered how frustrated he had used to get seeing you overwork yourself on favours like that, always thinking ten steps ahead about everyone but yourself. It had always hurt to watch you willingly sacrifice yourself for the sake of others. Especially when half the time they had no clue what lengths you had even gone to for them.
Varka sighed. How could he comprehend that version of you as one that would seek comfort from someone else?
The truth was that he couldn't.
Maybe that's why couldn't bring himself to feel some sense of betrayal. Maybe it would all come crashing down on him like a tonne of bricks one day... but until then, he still wanted as much of you in his life as you would offer.
He had served years as loyal dog to your house, powerless to intervene- your protector in what felt like name only. Yet, he had been your only solace in a house where you were merely a pawn... until he wasn't. Had disappeared from your life without a word. Now your hand in marriage has successfully been bargained to the mysterious Duke, absent for years fighting your father's enemies. He is said to be brash and violent, both famous and infamous for his feats on the battlefield... and you have no choice but to become his wife.
—pairing; varka x f!reader
—tags; kinda princessxknight, Nobility AU, arranged marriage, angst, slightly ooc, plot loosely based on Old Mondstadt.
—warnings; abusive parental relationships [Reader],
A week out from what should be the happiest day of your life and you were miserable. The one glimmer of realistic hope you had at finally slipping your captor, the one thing you had worked and slaved toward for the past five years, torn from your grasp and leaving you reeling. You had never had any faith in romance and other myths of the like, so you had been naïve to hope, to fool yourself that you had any means to steer your own fate, to believe that your life could take any other path than the one he decreed. Perhaps then, if you'd never let yourself imagine what could be, reality would be less painful. Perhaps every step wouldn’t sear your throat and feel less and less like you were headed towards your own end.
You were sure talk of your marriage had been taking place even before you had been born, the list of suitors and almost-husbands was extensive and had long been the talk of gossip throughout the nation, and yet this was only your second engagement. Your father’s volatility and tendency to offer your hand to any noble he wished to win the support of that month had ensured that. You could never be sure if your father intentionally chose unsavoury candidates just to keep you in your place, or wether you relation simply triggered the same vitriol they offered him.
You still remembered meeting your very first suitor, the disgust on his young face and the way his father’s hard gaze bore into you without a hint of emotion. You’d been five at the time, still too young to grasp the entirety of the situation. You still cringed at the memory; how excited you’d been to finally meet someone of your age. Sometimes you still felt like her; a stupid little girl with too much hope in her heart.
It never became easier, meeting men who already hated you. Pretending you didn’t fear them, fear becoming their wife, had become a delicate dance. You knew if they sensed it, even for a moment, you’d be doomed. Relegated to be the subject of the ire they could never take out on your father for the rest of your life. A trophy they would wheel out to all their friends to say ‘look how meek and obedient, the tyrant’s daughter quivers before me’.
So you perfected your dance. Never aloof enough to be mistaken as intriguing, never defiant enough to be seen as a challenge, never compliant enough to be seen as exploitable.
Since your first engagement had collapsed, few of your father’s arrangements came close to realisation. Your dance had served you well until now. You simply had to wait and trust in your process to take the course it always had. This meeting was a formality that would mean little once the winds of your father’s temper changed once again, as with all the others that come before.
By the time you entered your father’s reception room, you were a mask of calm. Focused on that same point by your father’s too-polished shoes you always found as you dipped low into your curtsy. Rising right on cue at his word, not a word in return, just as he preferred. All perfectly rehearsed the countless times you’d been here before. You avoided all eye contact, too easy to misconstrue as a challenge or worse, interest. You weren’t presumptuous enough to sit beside your father, instead hovering, like an auction item, at the head of the room.
“I humbly greet Your Royal Highness on behalf of the Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius.”
The octave of the voice was much too high to be that of a full grown man as you expected to hear and your surprise had caught you off guard enough for your gaze to stray. Bowing before you, the boy looked more like a knights’ squire than a nobles’ attendant. With his leather satchel, slight build and a mop of bright, almost white, blond hair, he barely looked much older than fourteen. You were quick your focus back before it could slip to memories of another blond squire decades in your past.
“My master sends his deepest apologies for not attending in person and asks for your Highness’s understanding as he attends to the unrest at our borders.”
You blinked, realising after a beat that the squire was awaiting your response, earnest look on his face and all. “Of course. The security of the nation is the utmost priority for us all.”
“And does he suppose he will deign to grace us with his presence for the engagement ceremony?” Your father drawled. You had been aware of him watching you keenly but he had said nothing to your response. Internally, you breathed a sigh of relief but the the tension in your spine didn’t ease.
The squire opened his satchel to remove an envelope and offered it toward your father, head bowed reverently. “He entrusted me to deliver this to your Majesty. He humbly prays this may alleviate any concerns your Majesty may have.”
You watched your father snatch the envelope in silence, breaking the clumsy wax seal on its back and beginning to read its contents with a frown. You didn’t miss the tension that seeped into the room, as it always did when your father was displeased. The reception room became dead silent, only broken by the intermittent rustle of paper against paper as your father continued to read. Slowly, the furrows between his brows eased, becoming less severe, and the air seemed to return to the room again.
Finally, he spoke. “Y/N, come here.” You moved to his side without question. “You are to sign this.” He presented a single page from the letter, setting it on the reception table before him. You regarded it for a moment, the thick, dramatic script looked not dissimilar to that which the priests wrote on official documentation. Though this one was not nearly as polished as the one presented to you by the High Priest in the past, you recognised it instantly.
“This is an engagement document, Your Majesty.”
Your father fixed you with a hard glare. “Yes, and you are to sign it.”
You knew better than to argue, white hot panic already rising in your chest as you grabbed a pen from the nearest inkwell. There was already a signature at the bottom of the page, all sharp angles and rough penmanship, but there was a clear space beside it. You signed quickly, barely looking at the page as you slid it back toward your father who only handed it to the squire.
The boy bowed low. “Shall I inform my master of your response, Your Majesty?”
Your father waved him off, already disinterested. “Yes, yes, you’re both dismissed.”
Dismissed from your father’s presence, your mind was free to wander again on your return journey to your chambers. If anything, it was too free to wander. All thoughts of engagements only brought up memories of your first, and all memories of your first engagement were painful. Partially because your fiancee had been the vilest of men, and partially because that was the last time you saw the only man you’d ever loved.
You still remembered first meeting him as a squire; a gangly preteen with limbs that seemed to large for his body and a heart too big for the world. Still, you never saw him falter, not once. Just dust himself off with that crooked smile still intact, as if daring someone to wipe it off his face.
You were sixteen when he was assigned your personal guard. Old enough to be resigned to your fate. Not old enough to keep from losing your heart.
After years of indifference from everyone in the palace, he felt like the first person to ever see you, to see the fight in you. For once, things felt bearable with him.
And then came the engagement. A time before you perfected your dance, and a meeting that left you bruised and weeping. He’d seemed so incensed then, you truly thought you’d have to keep him from killing the man. A guilty part of you liked it, having someone angry on your behalf.
And then he was gone.
You didn’t even have a memory of him at your engagement ceremony.
The loss had burned as much as the prospect of your upcoming nuptials.
