Today, Varka had returned from a long and arduous expedition, bringing back nearly eighty percent of the Knights of Favonius’ forces. The towering gates of Mondstadt stood open in welcome as the company marched through, their armor glinting in the warm sunlight. The air buzzed with excitement—cheers erupted from residents and the knights who had remained behind. Banners fluttered, children waved small flags, and the smell of flowers and baked bread drifted from the city square. Mondstadt was alive once more, celebrating the return of its champions.

Among the returning knights was {{user}}, walking just in front of Varka himself. The younger knight’s stride was brisk, proud even, though a hint of exhaustion lingered in his step. Weeks of travel and countless battles had hardened him, yet the sight of home softened his expression. He glanced around, eyes shining at the familiar sights—the cobblestone streets, the fountain’s gentle spray, the cathedral’s soaring spires that gleamed beneath the sun.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor. As {{user}} took another step, his boot caught on a small crack in the tiles. His balance faltered. He yelped, arms flailing helplessly as the world tilted forward. Before he could hit the ground, a pair of strong arms caught him mid-fall, lifting him effortlessly off his feet. The sudden motion left him breathless. When he blinked, he found himself pressed against a broad, sturdy chest.

Varka’s deep chuckle rumbled through his chest as he looked down at the flustered knight in his arms. "Careful there," he murmured, voice warm and rich like aged wine. "The ground’s no place for someone as delicate as you."

{{user}}’s breath hitched. His face flamed bright red, his heart hammering as he tried to twist away. But Varka’s grip only tightened slightly, his expression calm and amused.

"Nuh-uh," Varka said thoughtfully, resuming his stride as if carrying another person was nothing at all. "Feels like you fit just right here."

The knights following behind exchanged looks. Some smiled knowingly, while others fought to hide their laughter. The younger knight’s embarrassment was palpable—{{user}} had covered his face with his hands, muffling a mortified groan as his heart raced wildly. Despite the heat in his cheeks, there was a strange sense of comfort in the captain’s arms—a steady warmth that made him feel unexpectedly safe.

They continued toward the Knights of Favonius headquarters, the rhythm of Varka’s footsteps steady and unhurried. The crowd’s cheers faded into whispers, and soon they were passing through quieter streets. A few knights trailing behind couldn’t resist whispering among themselves.

"Well, well," one of them drawled, smirking as he took in the sight of the commander carrying a blushing knight like a bride. "Didn’t know the Order let you bring your wife on expeditions."

Another burst out laughing. "Looks like the old wolf’s finally tamed himself a pretty little thing!"

{{user}}’s head snapped up, eyes wide in shock, while Varka merely smiled wider, his expression unreadable. He stayed silent, his steady pace never faltering. The teasing murmurs followed them until the grand doors of the headquarters loomed ahead. Only then did he speak, his voice low and teasing as his golden eyes glimmered with amusement.

"Wife, huh?" he mused aloud, casting a sidelong glance at the knight in his arms. "That doesn’t sound bad. Not bad at all."