Akemi ♡

For instance, Lohen — that little battle manic who rarely sought “friendship” unless he intended to use it for personal gain — had begun sticking to you like a slime. Weirdly enough, you seemed to reciprocate his enthusiasm, always inviting him for a spar at The Thousand Winds Temple.

At first, Varka didn't think too much of it. Whatever, maybe you were just being polite and entertaining the young captain's antics. Or, perhaps he had bribed you with that "friendship fee" of his — that was a possibility.

However, the more time you and Lohen spent together, the more you clung to one another, creating a bond Varka couldn't seem to write down as mere "friendliness":

I.

The first time Varka felt something was off with you two occurred during a rather mundane commission. The Knights of Favonius had received news regarding a massive Hilichurl camp near Windrise; concerned about its proximity to the main city, he had ordered his most capable knights to clear out the camps with him.

The commission goes swimmingly, like it always does — that is, until he hears a pained yelp belonging to his 4th company vice captain cut through the air. Immediately, Varka swivels his head 180 degrees to the point that he almost gets whiplash, but it’s worth it, because he witnesses the most astonishing sight before him: Lohen completely abandoning the massive Mitachurl he’d been sparring (probably with delight, knowing him) to rush to your aid.

“Lo,” you gasp weakly, groaning as you press a bloody palm against the gash at your waist (“Lo”? When the hell did you call that rascal such a sweet nickname?). Varka needs only to blink once before the offending monster crumbles to dust by a swift stab of Lohen’s dagger. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Lohen looked far more frightening than usual as he decimated the creature — if that was even possible, anyway.

Varka stands motionless, stunned as Lohen instantly drops to your side. The crazed look in his eyes vanishes in favor of a concerned one, and the vice captain is visibly tense as he mutters a choice of curse words before scanning your body for injuries.

“Ah…” Lohen sucks in a sharp breath, uncharacteristically quiet. “Do you feel…alright?”

You shoot him a rather unimpressed look, elbowing him in the ribs with the remaining strength you have. “Does it look like I feel alright?”

Lohen raises both hands in surrender, shaking his head with a forced chuckle. “Right, right. C’mon, let’s get you fixed up.”

The remaining knights get the job done quickly. The entire Hilichurl camp is cleared out within seconds, but Varka cannot bring himself to care when there’s a miracle occurring right in front of his eyes. It’s true that despite Lohen’s usual aggressive and battle-hungry nature, the rascal had never ceased to look out for his fellow knights — but this time was different. There was surely something wrong with Lohen’s reaction today, and Varka couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

He only snaps out of his trance when Lohen’s grating voice pierces the air again. “Hey, Varka! Stop standing there like an idiot and get this young lady some medical aid, will ya?”

Varka grunts in response, beckoning the rest of his knights to follow. “Right,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the two of you. 

The bane of the Grand Master’s existence walks off with your arm around his shoulders. As Varka catches up, he could almost swear to Barbatos he hears Lohen tease: “You seemed distracted today — thinkin' about me too much? Okay, okay, I’m just kidding! Just…be more careful next time, kay? I really don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Varka shakes his head disbelievingly. Oh, yeah. He’s absolutely keeping an eye on the both of you from now on.

II. 

And so he does. 

The second time Varka notices something off about you two, he’s already drunk, head warm and fuzzy from the combination of alcohol and overstimulating noise echoing through the first floor of Angel’s Share.

The beer works well to clear his mind of most worries, though not the one clear goal he’s had since that last commission: to find out exactly what was going on between you and Lohen. Tonight was the perfect chance to do so — as long as one of you gets a little drunk, he supposes — so he leans against the table to peer at you two.

To no one’s surprise, you’re seated next to Lohen, who was nursing an apple cider in his hands. While he seemed quite awake and aware of his surroundings (much to Varka’s displeasure), the dandelion wine in your hands had rendered you tipsy, and you were already mumbling lazily against Lohen’s shoulder.

Perfect.

Varka clears his throat loudly in hopes of catching your attention.

“Uh, vice cap!”

Both you and Lohen turn your heads to face him simultaneously. That synchronism only makes Varka even more suspicious (yes, you were both vice captains, but he doesn’t care. That definitely meant something), so he decides that he must start an inconspicuous conversation in an effort to dig deeper. What counts as inconspicuous, Varka doesn’t really know — especially when he’s this buzzed from the beer in his tankard. Still, he knows he must try, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Ah, I’ve gotta confess — I kinda miss the days when Jean was Acting Grand Master!” he starts, words already slurring into an aimless ramble. “I swear to Barbatos, I’ve been bombarded with reports these days! It makes me want to mysteriously disappear again…uh, not that I’d want to dump all the paperwork on somebody else, of course…”

You and Lohen glance at each other, unable to hide your snickering. It makes Varka frown a bit — what was up with kids and their disrespect these days??

He does feel a bit better, though, when the two of you turn around to pay him attention once more.

“Hah, I get you, Grand Master–” you start.

“Oh, she really does–” Lohen adds, tone reeking of amusement and mockery.

You smirk, slapping the little rascal’s arm to shut him up (serves him right, Varka thinks). “No, no, I really do. I mean, I think I’d probably die if I had a mountain of paperwork on my desk every day. Y’know, Grand Master, I see you hiding away in the most random places to escape your work and take a nap.”

Varka huffs in indignation, face going a bit red at being discovered by his vice captain, but you cut him off before he can say anything.

“I’m a bit envious, though,” you sigh. “I wish I could sneak away to take a nap, considering I haven’t been sleeping well these days–”

Before you can finish your sentence, though, Lohen cuts in. His words are knowing and concerned, something Varka has probably witnessed from him maybe twice in this lifetime.

“Nightmares about the Wild Hunt again?” the vice captain murmurs, eyes softening in sympathy. “Was that why you were shaking in your sleep?”

You begin to nod in response, except a few seconds later, a look of realization flashes in your eyes. Varka follows your gaze as it anxiously scans across the table of fellow knights — all either too drunk or too engrossed in their own conversations to pay you and Lohen any mind.

Varka narrows his eyes. Everyone else may have missed that slip up, but he absolutely did not. He takes another swig of his beer before slamming the tankard down with a large thud. The Grand Master watches in satisfaction as you glance at him with wide eyes, visibly surprised at the sudden action.

“Lohen”, he huffs, suddenly getting a rush of liquid courage. Varka points a finger accusingly at the ranged company’s vice captain, a victorious smirk on his lips. “Tell me, how do you know what kinda dreams she’s been having, huh?”

Unfortunately, Lohen merely returns his question with an infuriatingly innocent smile, shrugging oh so casually in response.

“Heh- Great question, Grandmaster! You see, it’s simply because we’ve camped together during expeditions,” he drawls. “Our 4th company vice captain talks quite a lot in her sleep.”

Before Varka can protest, you mirror Lohen’s stupid innocent smile and cut in. “He’s right, Grand Master. Alas, I do talk out loud in my sleep — I have some pretty vivid dreams.” You glance toward Lohen, winking at him. “Thanks for putting up with my sleep talking, vice captain.”

Varka feels his right eye twitch at your unbelievable response. He looks between the two of you, opening his mouth in an attempt to complain, yet nothing comes out.

There’s no way he’s been conned. Again.

III.

After losing his only lead in the tavern a week ago, Varka had decided to give up and chugged 10 more beer bottles out of frustration.

If you and Lohen wanted to evade the truth, then so be it. He had far more important matters to attend to anyway — like the never-ending requisition forms currently spilling across his desk, or what to do with the poor new recruits Lohen was supposedly “testing” (more like torturing) with his increasingly dangerous poisoned drinks. 

Varka sighs, shoving his chair back and beckoning Lohen to gather the stack of forms and follow him out of the office. No matter — he would deal with the little rascal later. First, there were probably four more tasks he needed to complete before sitting his vice captain down for a more serious talk about his "tactics."

He’s mid-stride across the headquarters lobby, Lohen half a step in front of him, when he notices two familiar figures by the staircase. Varka squints. The Cavalry Captain is leaning against the railing, one arm braced on the wall beside your head. His face is far too close to yours, and Varka can't seem to put a finger on why the two of you together feels wrong.

As Kaeya notices the two men approach, the corner of his mouth quirks up, amused and expectant. He doesn’t turn to look, though, gaze still trained on you.

“I never see you off duty, vice captain,” he says smoothly, regarding you with a pleasant smile. “It’s a shame, really.”

Varka hears you laugh, a sweet sound falling from your lips. In front of him, Lohen instantly stops in his tracks.

He nearly walks straight into the little rascal — Varka’s sure he would have, if it weren’t for his amazing reaction time. He shoots Lohen an exasperated look, about to tell him off, but when his eyes land on the vice captain, he realizes that Lohen isn’t looking at him at all. Instead, Varka traces his icy stare to the staircase, where you were still chatting happily with the Cavalry Captain.

Ah.

He reaches out to place a soothing hand on Lohen’s shoulder, ready to stop him from whatever impulsive decision he was going to make, but the idiot was already striding toward you and Kaeya. 

“Vice captain,” Lohen greets you, voice paper thin. There's a shadow cast across his face, one that reminds Varka of the same unsettling expression he wore after returning from that underground auction. “These requisition forms require your countersignature. It’s urgent.”

Varka blinks, mouth falling open at the scene unfolding before him. Those forms were not urgent, relative to all his other paperwork. In fact, they weren’t even meant for the 4th company. But for some odd reason, Lohen was lying to your face, right in front of the Grand Master whom those papers belonged to.

You tilt your head questioningly, as if beckoning him to explain, but Lohen doesn’t bother to wait. He casually steps between you and Kaeya, making sure to completely block the Cavalry Captain from your view, before handing you the stack of forms in his hands.

Varka doesn’t miss the way Lohen’s fingers brush against yours for a second too long.

The sound of Kaeya’s chuckle snaps Varka out of his trance, and he finally manages to pick his jaw back up. He watches as the Cavalry Captain pushes off the wall, hands raised in mock surrender. 

“Ah, business calls. Expected nothing less from the ever busy young lady."

It isn’t until Lohen has herded you up the stairs, palm pressed insistently against your lower back, that Kaeya spares Varka a glance. There’s an amused glint in his eyes, as if he knows something the older man doesn’t.

“Forms,” he chuckles to himself, tasting the word on his tongue. The captain’s tone reeks of mockery. “How dreadfully urgent.”

Varka opens his mouth — to say what exactly, he didn’t know — but Kaeya was already strolling up the stairs, throwing a couple of words over his shoulder. 

“She’s very lucky. Don’t you think, Grand Master?”

Varka exhales slowly, not knowing whether to feel absolutely infuriated or exhilarated. There was no way in Teyvat he was getting any paperwork done after that — but perhaps his lead from last week hadn’t disappeared after all.

IV. 

In the next few days, Varka forced himself into work. For the sake of productivity, he desperately tried not to recall Lohen’s icy stare at the Cavalry Captain, or the way you’d let yourself be led away by the man without a single protest. Anyone could tell he had failed, though, by the stacks of unfinished papers still spread across his desk.

At least he’s learned something useful from the ordeal: it seemed that if Celestia wished to grant him more evidence of you and Lohen’s weirdness around each other, then it would do so during the most random, mundane, and totally unsuspicious moments of the day. Alas, there was no further point in lurking around the 4th and 5th company’s offices. He’s sure he would’ve accidentally walked in on you and Lohen making out, anyway.

Varka shakes his head in horror. Yeah — he’d rather not imagine that.

-

Ugh. 

The Grand Master groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walks into the mess hall. It’s only dawn, yet Jean had sternly insisted that he begin today’s work early. Varka supposes it was his own fault. After all, he clearly wasn’t disciplined enough to stop thinking about the past days’ events, resulting in more than usual leftover work. Still, he thinks he deserves some leniency considering the things he has witnessed.

Varka reaches for the coffee pot, grumbling to himself about how unfair everything was. He’s about to pour a cup for himself until suddenly, he hears familiar voices drifting from the kitchen.

He pauses. That was your voice. It was a tad sleepy and exasperated, yet no doubt belonged to his 4th company vice captain.

And right after that was definitely Lohen’s low rumble in response, though Varka couldn’t exactly make out the little rascal’s words.

Carefully, Varka sets down the coffee pot and begins creeping toward the kitchen doorway. He feels like a criminal about to commit atrocious sins — he really hopes there's no one else in the mess hall witnessing the embarrassment he's making of himself. Back pressed against cold marble, his head peeks out from behind the wall. 

You were at the stove with a spatula in hand, hair still a little mussed from sleep. Lohen doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he leans against the counter beside you. He’s slouched over, shoulder brushing against yours as he greedily takes up your personal space. You don’t seem to mind that, either.

“Stop staring,” you huff, without sparing Lohen a glance. “Go make yourself useful and grab the plates.”

However, Lohen doesn’t move an inch. If anything, he seems to shuffle even closer to you, voice lazy and amused as he responds: “Hey, don’t be so mean! I just like watching you.”

You fake gag at his response, but there’s an evident smile tugging at the corner of your lips — Varka could see that much from the doorway. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

You shake your head and lift a spoon from whatever was sizzling in the pan, holding it out toward Lohen. The vice captain leans down, making a show of slowly taking the silverware into his mouth. You look at him weirdly, but he only flashes you a cheshire grin as he pulls back to lick his lips.

“Very good, as always! But more salt.”

You sigh, raising an eyebrow at him. “You always say that. Do you just like the taste of overwhelming saltiness or something?” you deadpan. “Actually…don’t answer that, you freak.”

Lohen laughs. “Yes. But I also say that because you always undersalt.”

“I do not–”

“You do,” he replies smoothly. The ease and certainty with which Lohen insists on this makes Varka suspect that the two of you have had this argument more than just once or twice.

You turn to glare at him, raising your spatula like a weapon. Lohen looks obviously amused at your crazed appearance, not at all concerned about your supposed threat.

“You bastard, I’ve never undersalted your food–”

Lohen smirks, reaching up to wipe something from the corner of your lip. Varka can’t tell what it is exactly, but what he can tell is that you freeze mid-sentence, voice faltering to nothingness. Instead of dropping his hand back to his side, Lohen shifts it down, cupping your jaw gently. He tilts your chin up so you’re forced to meet his gaze, already looking way too happy with himself.

“What were ya saying, now?”

“...stop trying to distract me,” you mumble, but your voice had gone noticeably breathier, like the movement had completely stolen the air from your lungs.

“Well, is it working?”

You don’t reply, instead turning back to the stove, but there’s an obvious flush creeping up your neck from where Varka stands. Lohen’s hand casually falls to your lower back as he leans around you to grab the salt shaker himself. 

“No worries, I’ll just do it myself,” he hums.

“Whatever,” you sigh. “You always end up doing it yourself, anyway. Picky, aren’t you?”

Varka bites hard on his tongue, forcing himself not to make a noise somewhere between awe and frustration. Oh, you liars. He was so going to station you in Brightcrown Mountains, as far away as possible from Dornman Port.

V.

In the following week, Varka continued to witness a rinse and repeat of these much-too-friendly interactions. By this point, he was 99.99% sure that the two of you were together — how could you not be? Sure, the Grand Master had nothing concrete, but he’d collected all the circumstantial evidence possible throughout the past month.

It was rather irksome.

He has to remind himself that you two are fully competent adults by now. If you wanted to keep your lives private, it was absolutely your right. Still, having known you and Lohen for the years that he did, Varka couldn’t help but suspect that you two were doing this on purpose — mocking and taunting him with these displays of affection while offering nothing absolute. It was you and Lohen, for Barbatos’s sake. If the two of you weren’t intentionally irritating him, then pigs could fly.

The matter was so irritating that after a particularly long meeting with Jean at the headquarters, Varka decided to take a walk through the garden courtyard. It was the perfect chance to clear his head before bed after that dual headache, he tells himself. A beautiful view and no one to pester him about the never-ending paperwork and two lying vice captains.

Varka rounds the corner, sighing softly as his gaze catches the familiar sight. The small courtyard is bathed in silver moonlight, fountain murmuring quietly at the center. The low hedges cast soft shadows against the stone walls, providing a sort of comfort to the exhausted man.

A beautiful view and no one to pester him. At least, that’s what the walk should have been — because he suddenly recognizes two very familiar people in the garden.

You’re pressed against the base of the windmill just beside the fountain, Lohen’s body caging you in. Neither of you seem to notice the Grand Master — considering that Lohen’s faced the opposite way and completely obstructing your view of anything else but him — but the two of you probably wouldn’t have noticed him anyway. Not when the little rascal was kissing you like a man starved, your hands tangled in his hair and pulling his body flush against yours.

Varka’s first instinct is to turn 180 degrees and run for his life, but his feet stay stubbornly rooted to the ground. His eyes take in details he’d rather not remember, like how Lohen has one hand braced against the wall beside your head, the other wrapped firmly around your waist. He’s pulled you in so close that there's not a breath of space between you two — Varka doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen Lohen look so starved for anything that wasn’t battle or bloodshed.

Boldly, you pull at the roots of his hair. Varka’s sure the little freak groaned at that, but even if he did, the Grand Master wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know because it would’ve been covered by the rather loud and startled noise that leaves his lips at the sight.

Lohen goes completely still against you. Varka has to swallow his pride as he awkwardly shuffles in place, grimacing when the vice captain turns to meet his gaze.

“I–” he starts, voice uncharacteristically meek. “This isn’t– I wasn’t–”

Lohen’s expression doesn’t change, remaining completely unreadable. Varka thinks his vice captain is probably about to chop him to bits with that dagger, until he hears another voice ring out.

“Ah, Grand Master.”

It's your voice, light and amused and clearly not angry with him. You peek out from behind Lohen’s shoulder, shooting Varka a delighted grin.

“Grand Master," Lohen echoes, lips twitching into the barest hint of a smirk.

“Don’t ‘Grand Master’ me like that,” Varka grunts, pointing a finger at his ranged company vice captain. “Y-you knew I was here?” He doesn’t even wait for a response, gaze snapping to yours. “And you? You knew I was here too?"

You bite your lip, expression far from guilt or embarrassment. In fact, you were trying not to laugh, cheeks puffing out and stomach twitching in an attempt to hold back the high-pitched noises already seeping through your lips.

“We heard you,” you admit, a giggle escaping despite your efforts. “Your footsteps are quite loud, Grand Master.”

“You’re really not as sneaky as you think you are,” Lohen adds helpfully.

Varka’s face goes redder than it does after drinking a tankard of beer. He’s sputtering, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

“Ugh...don’t tell me the two of you knew I was going insane and were taunting me on purpose,” he groans. “Though I have a suspicion I’m right about that, unfortunately..."

The two of you glance at each other, amusement written all over your faces. Lohen’s smirking ever so casually, scanning his surroundings as if this situation is of zero importance to him — it’s so infuriating that it makes Varka want to punch him and wipe that smirk off of his face.

“Oops,” you reply, clearly not very sorry about the month of torture you’ve given him. 

“It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up,” Lohen shrugs. “Might even be better than seeing you fall into the traps I dug, Grand Master.”

If Varka were a tea kettle, he’s sure he would’ve had steam rising from his head by now. He’s at an utter loss for words, mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out — Barbatos, what did he do to deserve such horrible vice captains? The Grand Master huffs in exasperation, turning on his heel and walking away as fast as he can.

“I’m stationing you two on opposite ends of Mondstadt,” he throws over his shoulder indignantly. “And don’t even think about going on an expedition together again. I know you rascals are sneaking into each others’ tents at night!”

“Wha- Grand Master!” 

Varka is an observant man, after all.