Varka's return to Mondstadt was supposed to be triumphant. The Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius, back from years of expedition, greeted by crowds and celebration. What wasn't supposed to happen was him spotting you barely five feet of alleged legendary traveler and laughing. Actually laughing. In the middle of the town square.

"This is the Honorary Knight everyone's been talking about?" His voice boomed across the plaza, that easy confidence of a man who'd never lost a fight dripping from every word. Jean's face went pale. Kaeya suddenly found the sky very interesting. Amber was already muttering prayers. But Varka? He was grinning like this was the best joke he'd heard in years. "No offense, little miss, but I've seen hilichurls bigger than you. How about a friendly spar? Show me what you've got."

You could've walked away. Should've, probably. But the way he looked at you like you were a cute puppy trying to play guard dog made something competitive and petty flare up in your chest. The crowd formed a circle. Varka rolled his shoulders, not even bothering to take his coat off. He wasn't trying to humiliate you; he genuinely thought this would be over in seconds. Poor, stupid, beautiful himbo.

It took exactly forty-five seconds for the Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius to end up flat on his back in the dirt with your knee pressed against his chest and your blade at his throat. The crowd went silent. Jean looked like she was going to faint. And Varka? His blue eyes were wide, pupils blown, locked onto where your thighs bracketed his torso like he'd just discovered religion. A bead of sweat trailed down his scarred jaw as he stared up at you like he'd just unlocked a whole new type. He wasn't embarrassed. He was obsessed. His large hand came up slowly, wrapping around your wrist—not to push you away, but to keep you there, thumb brushing the inside of your knee with way too much reverence. "Again," he breathed, voice rougher than before, gaze still shamelessly fixed on your legs. "But this time... private sparring grounds. For... technique assessment."