Chapter Text
Nicole was waiting for him in the garden, as she had said she would in her letter, her back turned as she gazed ponderingly at the house. She turned as Varka approached, smiling serenely as he jogged toward her, the sound of his clanking armor echoing against the high walls of the cave.
“Good evening, Nicole,” he said, a little breathless. “I got your message and came straight here. You said there was something I could help you with?”
“Yes, indeed.” She smiled and stepped toward him. Varka was not sure he would ever get used to the sound of her voice echoing into his mind as her lips stayed still; the silent Angel with so much to say. “Come with me, please.”
To Varka’s surprise, she grasped his hand and marched toward the cottage, past the little statues of squirrels that seemed a little too lifelike, and brought him under the eve right outside her front door.
“Varka,” her voice chimed, “Do you remember when we were on that balcony in Nasha Town?”
The heat began to rise in Varka’s face. Of course he remembered: they spoke about all the calamities that had threatened Teyvat, she had touched his shoulder and reassured him that all those times were what had shaped him, and for a moment it had seemed—well, to him at least—that there was something budding between them, an ember beginning to burn…
He realized he hadn’t answered out loud. Could she read his thoughts, the way he heard her voice in his head? But she was still smiling gently, waiting for him to respond.
“Sure, I remember,” he attempted a shrug, trying to keep his tone casual and not reveal the flutter that had passed through his chest just now. “We had been through it, hadn’t we? Rerir, the Doctor, and all th—”
“I thought you might have wanted to kiss me.”
Varka choked mid-sentence, and stared at her.
“Do you still want to kiss me, Varka?”
She was still holding his hand, and squeezed it to prompt his answer.
“Of course I do,” he spluttered, “I just—your message tonight saying you requested my assistance, I thought—the Wild Hunt—”
She shook her head, and released his hand to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, her face lifting as she leaned against him. “I would like you to please kiss me, Varka.”
Varka’s heart was pounding. This was really what she had summoned him for? A kiss? A romantic rendezvous in her garden? Was he dreaming? An Angel of the Primordial One, an ancient and divine Daughter of Heaven, asking him for a little kiss?
“Nicole,” he raised his hands to gingerly pull her arms back from around his neck, holding her delicate hands in his own, “What’s going on? You want me to kiss you all of a sudden, just out of nowhere?” More thoughts were arriving to him as he watched the gentle smile slowly falter from her face. “Is a mortal man even allowed to kiss an Angel without bursting into flames? Or is this some kind of test of chivalry in the face of temptation that the Witches have contrived?”
The smile was gone, replaced with a true look of earnest before she dropped her forehead to rest against his chest. “Yes,” she answered quietly into his mind, “and no.”
It took Varka a moment to do the math on her answer. “Oh.”
“Varka.”
The sound of her voice in his mind was somber and fervent now, and she didn’t lift her head to meet his eyes. “Varka, I have made a decision.” She threaded her fingers in between his, and his hands enveloped hers easily. “I’ve lived for thousands of years, gathering stories of grand adventures and mysteries, legends of bravery in great battles, knights felling monsters…I’ve walked through these stories and partaken in all kinds of acts, but…there is one kind of story I have yet to open my chapter to.”
Golden butterflies were dancing among the ivy that framed the glowing windows of the cottage, moonlight streamed in silver rays through the mouth at the top of the cave, but the greatest beauty in this garden, and truly in all of Teyvat in Varka’s opinion, lifted her head to meet his gaze again, hands trembling in his grasp, and said:
“I want you to make love to me, Varka.”
He froze, unable to think of a single thing to say in response to this request. All the possible answers that passed through his mind in that moment felt like the stupidest thing to say. What should a mortal man say when propositioned by an Angel? Certainly not Why Nicole, I’ve yearned for your touch ever since we met, or else I’ve spent so many nights pleasuring myself to thoughts of you, it would be my honor to finally be with you…
Without waiting any longer to decide on which stupid response he ought to utter out loud, Nicole stepped back from him with a sudden air of confidence. She raised her hand, one finger extended, and flicked it in the air, tracing a tiny ornate pattern of light between them that then solidified. Varka instinctively held out his hand to grab the tiny object as it fell. It was a little golden key, the head of which was shaped like Nicole’s seal.
“Come inside.”
Involuntarily holding his breath, Varka shakily slid the key into the lock on the doorknob, wincing at the vulgar metaphor that arose in his thoughts with it. He pushed the door open and held it for Nicole to enter before him, and then followed her, letting the door shut firmly behind him. The tiny golden key vanished from his hand.
“Why me?” He finally said.
She turned to face him. The serene smile was back on her face, her hands clasped behind her back—did she do that to display her bosom in an even more appealing way? If so, it was working.
“Why not you?”
“I just—” Varka fidgeted where he stood, unsure of what to do with his hands or how to stand as he faced the woman across the tea table. “I need to make sure you know what you’re asking of me.You said you want me to make love to you, but do you really mean—”
“The carnal act of love. Two people, stripped of all clothing, entwine their bodies together and engage in intense, pleasurable stimulation to fulfillment. That is what I want to do with you. Tonight, right now.”
“Okay, just checking,” he said gruffly, “but why…with me?”
“I’ve prepared a room for us upstairs. Come join me when you are ready.” Nicole turned her back to him again, and without another word pranced up the stairs and away from him.
He dropped into a chair by the tea table, trying to steady his breathing. He needed to piece together some reasoning before all the blood rushed to his groin.
Nicole wanted him to make love to her. Nicole wanted to have sex with him. Nicole would be naked, he would be naked, and they would entwine together and he would take her, gyrating with his member inside her, stroke by stroke, watching her undulate with pleasure until she…
No, no, this was a dream! He had drank too much as usual and fallen asleep in his tent with his hand in his trousers again. Well, if that was the case…why not indulge in the dream? Usually he would wake up around this point, when he was about to embrace Nicole and their lips were a breath apart. He might as well enjoy this new variation of the dream, until he awoke at a table at the Favonius Keep, drooling onto a map of Dreadshade Mire.
“Varka.”
Her voice beckoned in his head, and he stood up forcefully, sending the chair clattering backward onto the floor. This was just another dream, he’d awake as soon as he was about to kiss her, and then he would have to deal with the erection on his own as always and go on pining for the ethereal, untouchable Angel who would never actually invite him into her bed so eagerly like this.
Varka climbed the stairs slowly, wincing as the sensitive bulge in his trousers rubbed against the fabric. There was only one room on this level, the doorway glowing with candlelight at the end of a short hallway. He approached, still waiting for himself to suddenly awaken on a bench at the Flagship, but stopped in his tracks just before the threshold.
Pale golden hair streaming down her back, parted to reveal those mysterious golden markings that wove along her skin, the perfect fold between her buttock and her thigh. She was already naked, waiting for him in front of a large, luxurious bed. At the sound of his choking gasp she turned, still with that same knowing, teasing smile, but her breasts were bare and bathed in silver moonlight. More golden markings were etched down her chest and along her belly, ending below her navel.
Varka gripped either side of the doorframe with both hands so as to keep from falling to his knees.
“I’ve enchanted the doorway to remove our clothing as we walk through,” her tone was far too matter-of-fact for the moment at hand. “Come inside.”
Of course. The invitation his cock was already desperate to accept, but he held himself back, bracing against the doorframe as though it was trying to pull him through. She was walking toward him, so gloriously naked, a vision of perfection that he could hardly bear to gaze upon, but which it was taking every ounce of his power to resist.
He hung his head so as to avoid her gaze. “Nicole,” he grunted, “You never answered my question.”
“What question?”
Varka suddenly wished he shared Nicole’s talent of speaking into his mind, so he wouldn’t have to utter his next words aloud. “Everything about me is rough and unpolished. You are…you are immaculate. Why do you want me?”
She laughed in his head, a gentle, warm peal like a tolling bell—not unkind or derisive, but somehow reassuring. She reached across the threshold to place a finger across his lips, grasped his arm with her other hand, and pulled him through the doorway.
His clothes indeed vanished from his body in an instant, leaving him naked with her, relieved to free his erection from his trousers. She did not speak for a moment, but slid her finger from his lips, down his chin and throat, along his collarbone…she traced the scars along his chest, and lingered on them for a moment.
“Master sculptors toil for years—lifetimes—to hone the perfect male physique,” she murmured in his head, “But you have been carved out of bravery, chivalrous deeds, and knightly restraint. I’ve had my eyes on you since your turned away from your fate in Mondstadt to face perils in Nod Krai and allow a Descender to fulfill your destiny instead, and to take the glory you could have had for yourself. Your body is chiseled out of selflessness. And I have long wondered…” her finger continued to trace down his body, weaving among his abdomen, with the sparkle of a new feeling growing behind her eyes—was it hunger? “What it will be like when your body lets go of that restraint and embraces your selfishness.” Her finger snaked past his navel, and finally caressed his fully erect, throbbing cock. “Besides, I doubt there’s a piece more impressive than this in all of Teyvat.”
The other dreams had never gotten as far as this. Varka let out a sigh, almost a laugh. So it really was a dream. He placed his hands on her waist, reveling in the softness of her skin under his calloused palms and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’ve never imagined a lustful Angel,” he said, letting his voice drop into a ravenous growl. “But you are right…” he moved his hand to her lower back, pressing her warm body against his chest and letting his cock rest against her inner thigh, “I’m not going to employ any restraint tonight. I’ll do what you ask of me: I’m going to take you fully, deeply, and selfishly.”
They both leaned in for the kiss, their very first kiss with them both already naked and impassioned, hands feeling and exploring…she raised her arms to twine around his neck again, threading her fingers in his hair and grasping to press into the kiss more deeply. Her lips parted, his tongue slipping against hers, prologuing a rhythmic caress that teased the imminent pulse of his cock as it would soon pulse inside her. This was a dream. No need for restraint. And yet— so much detail in the dream this time, her stiffening nipples brushing against his chest, the subtle smell of her body, warm and earthy…amber, perhaps? Fascinating, intoxicating…her fingers explored the crevices between the muscles on his back. Her lips left his mouth and pressed against his neck. Oh, this dream was an unfair one…how was her heat so lifelike? Her skin so tight yet soft under his touch? How did the dream know to offer him every detail that would invite his arousal?
“Varka.” Her lips brushed along his jawbone, her warm breath washing against his skin. “Now, please.”
He lifted her off her feet easily, holding her like a bride as he took the last few steps toward the bed and laid her down. She was flushed, her breasts already sex-swollen, and those golden markings on her skin seemed to be dancing brightly.
“Knight of Boreas,” even without the use of her breath to speak, her voice sounded breathless. “Be selfish with me.”
He chuckled again as he knelt over her, sliding his hip under her leg as she reached to caress his arms, positioning herself open to accept him. “If I am about to commit the sin of taking the virginity of an Angel, at least let me worship at your altar first.”
She tilted her head quizzically, but instead of elaborating, he bowed his head to her chest, kissing between her golden-etched breasts, down to her stomach, her belly, her navel, and then…he lowered his head to her mound, shouldering apart her thighs, and kissed her labia as he had kissed her lips. She gasped, twitching at the first touch of his mouth on her, but he caressed her thighs, indicating for her to relax into his kiss. His tongue slid between these lips now, tasting her ethereally sweet moisture and stroking along her clit, flicking with the tip and stroking with the flat of his tongue, and listening to her voiceless breath gasp above his head. He reached out, up past her belly, grasping between her breasts to feel her heaving breath. She grabbed his hand in return, pressing it against her chest, and with her other hand reached down to grasp his hair. He went on, flicking and rubbing and feeling her breast move up and down at the stimulation, waiting for the right moment, until he felt her toes curl against his back. Perfect.
Varka broke his mouth away from her labia, pulling himself up to her level on the bed.
“Why did you stop?” The new little whine in her voice made his mouth twist into a ravenous smile. Her chest was heaving and he could tell she was straining with the novelty of the pleasure. Were those golden marks on her skin shining even brighter now?
“Lie back,” he whispered. He took a moment, smoothing the hair around her haloed head and arranging it around her on the pillows as she steadied her breathing, “You’ll need to stay relaxed. If it hurts…if you want me to stop, just—”
She shook her head, and with her hands still tangled in his hair, pulled him down to kiss him. She did not need her lips to speak, so even as they sighed together into the kiss, she spoke into his head, “What did I say about restraint tonight?”
He took it as the sign he needed. Lips and tongues still locked together, he shifted his hips, spreading her thighs apart to allow him. He reached down to spread his precum along the length of his shaft, and entered her.
Nicole’s deep gasp broke their kiss apart. This time he wasn’t imagining it: the golden marks on her chest and her arms flashed as he pushed inside her, and after a moment of tension her body relaxed back onto the bed as he began his strokes. Slow and deep, back and forth, just like the rhythm that the prologue of his tongue had heralded earlier. She raised her arms over her head, arching back with her lips apart in an expression of elation. Varka cupped his hands over her breasts, allowing his gyrations to lift and drop her supple tits so her nipples brushed under his palms with each movement.
She could not moan without a voice, but now Varka was certain that with each of his cock’s deep beats her golden markings glowed brighter, indicating her pleasure. Ah, so that’s how he would know…well, whatever it would take to satisfy an Angel, he would make his dutiful efforts. He was already groaning with pleasure at each stroke, her once-virgin cunt was so tight around his cock…Oh gods of Celestia, if I can hold out…
He dropped down to his elbows and kissed along her neck, maintaining his rhythmic strokes inside her, in and out…already the pressure was building between his navel and his groin, stimulating for now but he knew it would soon become unbearable. “Tell me what you feel, Angel.”
Her chest heaved in a sigh under his lips, and then her voice echoed, “I never knew mortals were enjoying such pleasures of the flesh, among their toiling and building. Even stories never quite described it this way, they merely painted metaphors of the pleasure, but I…I feel you deeply pulsing inside me like a new heartbeat…and yet,” her hands suddenly gripped him, fingernails digging greedily into his skin, “Knight of Boreas, you are still holding back.”
He paused his stroke, still lingering, but contemplating her words carefully. It was true that his shaft was still only halfway inside her, but his length was considerable and she was still such a delicate and slight woman…did he really dare…
She shifted herself against him, and he whined slightly at the movement on his cock, so she could look him in the eyes and stroke his face with her hands. Those golden markings were pulsing with their light, matching each heavy throb of his cock, excited and expectant. “I want the Wolf of the North. I want the body that housed the soul of the god Boreas. I want to feel that vigor inside me.”
He was beginning to feel the ache for release. She was asking for everything he had truly been holding back, the power he truly yearned to release…With slightly trembling arms he reached around her for every pillow on the bed, stacking them under her back until she was almost upright, glorious breasts still heaving in the silver moonlight. If he was struck down by the Heavens in this next moment of true blasphemy, at least it would be with her, this beautiful, divine woman that had violated his thoughts for so many months. He shifted forward, hearing her sigh as more of her body pushed down onto his cock, and cradled her haloed head toward his chest.
“As you wish, Angel.”
He grasped the headboard, and thrust.
Immediately her lips parted in a silent shriek, her arms flung around him instinctively. The pleasure coursed up through him, mirroring the elation on her face and he groaned against her, holding the headboard as it rattled against the wall at each powerful thrust of his hips up into her. Her pussy was so tight, unbearably pleasurable, each throe sending that knot below his navel into more intense distress. Her voice in his head was ragged, as though even her thoughts were unraveling as the golden glow on her skin grew brighter and brighter:
“Varka—! Varka—! Oh gods of Celestia, don’t stop, don’t stop…!”
At this point he doubted he could stop if he wanted to, the knot behind his pubis was begging for release. He thrust. He thrust. He held her in place even as the bed shook under his knees, the headboard threatening to crack against the wall.
“Nicole—Nicole, I—I need to…ngh—”
Nicole flung herself forward, his cock still throbbing and thrusting within her, and as the last of her weight pushed back on him, straddling him on the bed as their bodies bathed in the silver moonlight…she gasped, and that glow—the heavenly golden ring around her head, down her arms, her chest, her back, shined at a pinnacle, momentarily overtaking the moonlight that streamed in through the windows…
Finally she grasped him, sighing, kissing him, as he laid her back against the pillows…and Varka himself finally released into her, groaning openly and gushing freely inside her as they both fell into the pillows in relief. He allowed himself another couple of slow, final strokes before he pulled out of her, utterly spent.
He fell back on the mattress, all the pillows still propped behind her back. Presently his breath steadied, and he looked up at her. “Angel of the Primoridal One, have I pleased you?”
“Knight of Boreas,” her voice came weakly as she lay above him, as though even her thoughts were exhausted from their efforts, “You have fulfilled my request with great aptitude.”
She rolled over, dropping off of the pillows to lie next to him on the flat mattress. “But let’s be Nicole and Varka for the rest of the night, alright?”
Varka grinned, and snaked his arm under her back so she could, nestle beside him, too hot to make use of the comforter. The markings on her skin were already returning to their original faint glow as the pleasure from her orgasm subsided. He reached out a finger and traced them idly across her bosom, basking in his success at satisfying her. “Did you know that these would respond to your pleasure?”
She shook her head, and rather than allowing himself to ask another question about her divine body, proceeded into kissing him. “Thank you for fulfilling my request tonight,” her voice echoed in his head again as her lips pressed against his. “I could have gone through thousands of lifetimes never having know the feel of virility, but…you are the one I chose.”
He wrapped his arms around her and continued the kiss, soft and gentle now that they were both fulfilled. The dream was about to end, and he could feel his wakefulness slipping away.
“Can I fall asleep here?” he murmured, “I don’t want this dream to end.”
Nicole giggled softly in his head. “This wasn’t a dream, Varka.”
“Of course it was. It was everything I’d ever imagined. You are beautiful. This couldn’t be real.”
She caressed his face as his eyelids drooped, that serene smile back on her face. “Sleep, Knight of Boreas. When you wake you will be back at the Favonius Keep, all will be well.”
“This was a dream. You are my dream, Angel.” His eyes closed. She kissed his eyelids gently, and lay her head down on his chest as well.
Varka awoke with a jolt, fully clothed, in the Grand Master’s tent at the Favonius Keep. He sat upright, memories rushing through his mind of the dream he had just had. He practically laughed out loud as the absurdity of it all flooded back to him. Nicole, the divine Angel who had captivated his thoughts, suddenly asking for a kiss…then declaring that she should make love to her, admitting that she had been lusting for his cock…both of them magically naked, entwined, with her insisting that he expend every effort of his arousal into her. He really did laugh now, dropping his head into his hands as he sat on his cot. It was bitterly unfair that his mind should have taken him so far into the dream this time. It should have ended after he saw her naked in that first moment, bathed in moonlight, with those golden etchings glowing faintly on her back…unfair that now this dream had given him so much more detail to imagine when he needed to find release in the thought of her again.
“Grand Master Varka?” A tap sounded on his tent post. Begrudgingly Varka stood, wishing he had time to work his cock through the full length of his dream, and pushed aside his tent flap.
“Ah, Albedo,” he said gruffly, trying to mask the crack in his voice, “What is your report?”
The young man held out a small envelope, folded out of delicate stationery and closed with a particular seal.
“A squirrel just brought this to camp,” Albedo said, “I apprehended it before I realized it was addressed to you.”
With a brow furrowed, Varka took the envelope, and even before he had time to register the sigil stamped into the wax, a small object slid out between the folds of the paper. It made a pleasant chime as it glanced off of the toe of Varka’s boot and landed in the dirt.
A small, ornate golden key.