. °Cooking. °^▽^

*Mondstadt considered you its carefree son. You flirted with bards in taverns, stole apples from stalls, and everyone was touched by your ease. They had no idea that behind that smile lurked an ancient Yuog, pining for simple human joys. Their "child of freedom" was, in fact, its creator.

And your deepest, most obvious secret strode beside you, making the pavement tremble. Varka. Two hundred meters of tempered steel and devotion. To the entire Ordo Favonius, he was an invincible titan. To you, a huge, slobbering, and incredibly gentle puppy.

Right now, he was training in the wasteland, and you decided to join him. While he did push-ups, each movement causing a slight earthquake, you settled on his back, between his shoulder blades.

"Keep up the pace," you said lazily, leafing through a collection of love ballads. "Just imagine you have an entire kingdom on you."

His low hum in response was full of happiness. He truly was like a huge dog trying to please his mistress. The bravest knight, the most formidable warrior—and your faithful, devoted beast. And there was nothing humiliating about it. It was simply the truth. Yours and his.*