Chapter Text
The Grandmaster sits at his desk, finishing up his paperwork, tapping his foot. Windblume is right around the corner, and he can’t wait to spend it with his beloved friends and dear Flins. The last time they saw each other, it was months ago in Fontaine, where they unfortunately had to spend in the Fortress of Meropide since Sigewinne was busy assisting so many patients from a huge accident in the arena room. It’s been a while since Varka last had a good laugh, since he had to hear a high-pitched voice worry about his well-being, since he got to hold his lover in his arms. At least Durin is here, who he’d probably consider another one of his closest friends, even though he’s barely met the guy almost two years ago now. Varka’s mind spins, lost in thought, until eventually there’s a knock on the door.
“..Hmm? Come in!” Varka’s voice booms through the room. Durin steps in, or well, more like sprints in, his wings fluttering wildly. Varka raises an eyebrow, smiling at the dragon’s behavior, placing down his quill.
“Grandmaster, grandmaster! Sir Flins just sent a letter, they’ll be here soon! Look, they’re all on the next boat here!” He blurts out, waving the letter in front of Varka’s face.
“Haha! About time! I was starting to think those guys wouldn’t make it!” The blonde man lets out a boisterous laugh, ruffling Durin’s hair. Durin swats Varka’s hand away, letting out a soft chuckle himself. The knight’s heart swells at the thought of reuniting with his loved ones, awaiting their warm faces. The young man beside him definitely feels the same way, because he’s quite literally giving the same, grinning expression.
“Ah—uhm, also, Grandmaster,” Durin stammers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but something’s clearly important based on his tone. “,Mr. Kaeya needs your help convincing Master Diluc to distribute alcohol for the festival.. again.” Varka sighs, sitting up.
“Those two never cease to cause trouble, do they?… Alright, I’ll go. Keep an eye out for any other problems. Make sure Albedo whips up enough chairs for the festival just in case.”
“Will do, sir!” Durin nods, walking away to follow orders.
The rest of the day is spent preparing for the festival, crates and boxes are scattered around areas of Mondstadt, tinsel and Windwheel Asters decorating the city walls, laughter in the air. The air is fresh and crisp, the sun is bright, trees are rustling in the wind, and the sky is clear. The days seem to go by slowly, but with how beautiful they are, the slowness of time becomes a little more bearable.
~———————————————~
2 days later, the sun peeks out the ocean, waves glistening like glitter in the low light. Mondstadt City is colorful and lively, shop owners stocking up their booths for tomorrow. Durin flies by Millhaven for a couple Etherwing moths like Albedo instructed, when his eye catches a boat carrying three blue(-ish) headed people on a boat. His face lights up in joy, almost dropping the moth-filled jar in his hands. The dragon darts off into the sky back to Mondstadt… well, of course, after dropping off the moths at Albedo’s in Dragonspine.
The boat arrives at Dornman Port. The ramp lowers, and the three walk down in a messy line, waving at the captain. The pastel-colored melusine skips a couple steps onto the dock, turning around swiftly to her companions.
“Everyone okay there? Anybody sea-sick?” Sigewinne enquires in a light tone, with a half-worried half-smiley expression.
“All good here, bro! As for Cacucu…” Ifa carries his saurian in one arm, whose wings are splaying over them, displaying a dizzy expression. The fae chuckles softly, hand hovering over his mouth.
“My, seems someone needs a nap. Perhaps we should look for a place to sit before we head to Mondstadt City.” Flins suggests, receiving a nod from the two.
They take a seat at a bench near the dock, Ifa lays his arm on the headrest, while Cacucu nuzzles into Ifa’s shirt, popping up from the neckhole. Sigewienne leans her head onto the bench, her ears twitching in delight. Flins stares up into the sky, his golden eyes practically a reflection of the sun. He’s already awaiting to see Varka again, to jump in his arms after months of missing the knight. He was unshamefully in love, and his friends knew that very well. Even the mere thought of Varka made him…
“Hey. Something on your mind, man?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, dear friend.”
“Come on!” Ifa shoves Flins shoulder lightly, “You can’t just tell me it’s ’nothing to worry about’ and expect me not to be even a bit curious!”
“Yeah! You can trust us, Flins!”, chimes in Sigewinne, sitting up, swinging her legs. Flins shakes his head, his lips curving into a smile.
“Fine, fine. But it’s quite ridiculous, if you ask me.”
Ifa and Sigewinne gaze at him with welcoming smiles, ready to listen.
…Oh archons, what wonderful friends you’ve blessed me with.
~——{meanwhile}——~
“Varka, Varka, VARKA!” Durin rams into Varka’s window, his face plastered on the glass.
“Wh- What the hell?! Durin?!” Varka jerks up from his bed, rubbing his eyes, only to still see the young man staring at him with a sheepish grin. Varka swings his legs over the bed, moving to open up the window for the dragon.
“Ever heard of a door? What is it, Durin?” Varka says hoarsely, his voice still recovering from sleep.
“Miss Sigewienne, Flins, and Ifa are here! Their boat just arrived at Dornman Port! I saw it on the way here!” He says in an excited yet soft voice. Varka beams at the sound of those words, the light in his face making Durin beam as well.
“Ah! Finally! Took ‘em long enough! They off the boat yet?”
“Most likely by now! The boat was still under the bridge leading to the town when I was there.”
“Alright, you go catch up with them while I get ready. Can’t be seen all disheveled, can I? Hahaha!” Varka bellows, his hand carding through his messy hair. Durin nods, racing out the door this time.
Varka digs into his closet for his usual uniform, changing into his clean clothes, putting on his signature coat. He goes to the bathroom to freshen up, combing his hair and putting on cologne that he rarely actually uses (unsurprisingly).
Now that he’s all caught up with his work, which Jean had oh-so kindly forced him to finish, he can spend the rest of the holiday with those he cherishes the most. And the first thing on his mind? Well, invite them for drinks, of course! Varka walks out his home, leaving the gates, heading down the path to Dornman Port.