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The afternoon air held a strange sort of peace that the dragon knight never thought he would quite get used to.
Before he’d come to the Gate of Time and the temple hiding it and its white sorceress away, he had known nothing but bloodshed and battle. But those days were in the past, bringing with them a strange sort of calm. He always expected that to shatter as easily as glass, but it never did, leaving the knight to silently guard what had become his.
Volga exhaled a small, tired breath.
His deep crimson eyes lay hidden behind peacefully shut eyelids, but there was a certain poise to his stance, ready to move if the situation ever demanded it. His spear was held carefully, ready to strike when or if the moment ever came. This was his job, after all, or at least the one he’d given himself. This place was sacred and he’d give his life to guard it.
Volga couldn’t help but find it strange. Before he’d come to this place, he was an aimless wanderer. He had no purpose beside seeking out the greatest thrills of battle. He certainly had nothing worth guarding.
Things were different now, and the dragon knight found himself grateful. No battle with any opponent, no matter how strong, nor the weight of any amount of rupees could compare with the treasure he had found.
Mercy - a strange name for a treasure, and even stranger concept for the knight to behold.
He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve any of her kindness. He had simply been in the right place at the right time. That was how mercy worked, wasn’t it? His life had been void of purpose before she simply walked into it.
He still vaguely remembered the feeling of raindrops falling on his broken, battered body, laid waste to after he had sized up a certain opponent wrong. A pool of red surrounded his body, equally as crimson as the bitter gaze he turned to the Heavens. This was where Volga would die. He was certain of it.
She had changed everything.
By some strange set of coincidences that not even Volga found himself fully understanding, the wounded knight had found himself on her doorstep after a battle gone terribly wrong. He had thought his opponent would be weak, his purse an easy prize. But he had been wrong.
Instead, Volga had been met with an ambush that day. He never stood a chance. No matter how hard he fought or how many enemies fell at the tip of his spear, there were always more waiting for him.
Volga wasn’t sure when he lost hope in his chances, nor did he know when his expectations prepared him for an early end. It didn’t matter either way. The life of a mercenary was short and bloody. His should have been no different.
But it was different.
He still remembered seeing her tear-stained face through his half-lidded eyes. His weary body ached from the strain of simply trying to remain conscious, let alone hold itself together. Her violet eyes had been full of worry as she used her magic to mend his many wounds, muttering small apologies for his pains and curses at her own strain as she did so.
Even now, he remembered her touch being surprisingly gentle - the most gentle thing Volga had ever felt in his short life.
He had spent weeks near the Gate of Time recovering from his many injuries. Countless times he had offered to help Lana with whatever she might need. A lone girl living in a place like this surely needed something - of that, he was certain.
Yet, she wanted nothing he offered her.
She refused his rupees. She had no enemies she wanted slain. She even fussed when he tried to do so much as help around the temple. Still, a sense of duty burning bright in Volga’s chest insisted that he had to do something to make up for the great debt he’d accrued.
He didn’t deserve her kindness. He certainly didn’t deserve to be alive.
And that left a tugging sense of duty that the dragon knight simply couldn’t ignore, no matter how desperately Lana tried to assure him she needed nothing.
After she’d worked so hard to safe his life, doing nothing in return was simply shameful - and Volga’s pride refused to give in. There had to be something he could do. After much bickering and bantering, the two finally settled on a decision. Rather, Volga insisted on it.
The dragon knight bowed his head and swore fealty to the white sorceress. Even if she insisted she didn’t need his help now, it wasn’t impossible that there would come a time when she did need his help. Volga would be ready when, or if, that ever came to pass.
With that, Volga’s days as a bloodthirsty mercenary came to an end. From his ashes rose Volga the dragon knight, protector of the Gate of Time and its sorceress. Even now, he still had no complaints about the change, different as it may be.
If anything, a small part of him might even insist he liked things better this way. Not that he would ever be so bold as to say it out loud.
The familiar creak of the temple doors opening pulled Volga from his thoughts. Lana was finally emerging from its sanctuary for a much needed break.
He heard the faintest sound of a stifled sniffle. She’d been crying. She needed that break more than he’d realized, it seemed.
“Milady,” he greeted her with a small nod of his head.
Lana made no move to hide her tears, save for wiping them away on her sleeve. Still Volga afforded her the privacy of an averted gaze.
“Hey, Volga,” she said softly.
It didn’t take a fool to realize the girl was upset, nor did it take a genius to realize what it was that had upset the guardian of time now. It was the same thing that it had been last time, and the time before that, and so on. Few things brought tears to his master’s eyes, but Volga knew it was always the same thing every time.
As the Guardian of Time, it was Lana’s duty to preserve the balance of the Triforce, keeping an eye on its various holders across time and space. She watched them fight and struggle. She watched them journey to places she would never go. And, time and time again, she would watch the chosen hero fall in love with the wise princess.
There was nothing she could do about it either. Lana’s role was to silently observe for any changes across the time continuum, not play a role that would let her stand alongside the heroes she watched.
Still, she couldn’t help the way her heart longed for the chosen hero. It didn’t matter when across time it was or what the hero looked like, Lana loved him and only him. There was nothing she could do to stop it, and nothing she could do to help it.
Her feelings lay stifling and dormant in her chest, like a lock growing ever tighter around her aching heart. Lana knew and said nothing, and Volga was no fool to the truth either.
No matter how badly his mistress wanted Link - any Link - she could never have him. He was always destined to love another, usually the brilliant princess who held the Triforce of Wisdom, and there was nothing Lana could do to stop it.
Volga was equally powerless. If his opponent was something physical he could fight, he gladly would have picked up his spear and felled any opponent. Lana’s feelings were nothing so physical, though the object of her affections was, and Volga knew his mistress would never forgive him were he to cut down a chosen hero for something as unchanging and helpless as Lana’s emotions.
It didn’t make it any easier holding himself back every time he saw Lana’s red puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks though.
He cleared his throat in a sorry attempt to regain his composure and placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. She sniffled back more tears as she slowly raised her head to look at him.
He held her violet gaze only a few moments before looking away.
“A walk would do us both good, I think,” he said.
It was a straightforward and emotionless comment. Volga was well aware of that. He liked to think it was only because he was holding himself back. He gladly would have said something else, something more personal - but anything further would have crossed the boundaries Volga had silently made for himself.
Lucky for him, simplicity too had its charm. A small wave of relief washed over him like a cool stream as Lana’s lips curved into a wobbly smile. She managed a small, simple nod and place her hand on his.
Volga froze.
He was never one to initiate contact. It was too much, too forward. But it had never stopped Lana from being the one to initiate instead.
“I think you’re right,” she said. “There’s a field of flowers not too far away. It’s pretty, I promise. Care to come with me?”
“Of course.”
The dragon knight cared nothing for flowers. They were common and transient - here today and gone tomorrow. Though he’d had more time to appreciate them since becoming Lana’s sworn knight, they still weren’t something he’d eagerly seek out on his own.
But, for Lana, he decided to put such feelings aside. If Lana wanted to see the flowers, then he would gladly escort her there.
Lana held her signature tome in one hand, pulling Volga along with the other as she left the familiar comforts of the shrine behind. Somewhere along the way, her touch slipped past Volga’s, though he made no move to reach out for her. He resigned himself to follow a respectful distance away, close enough that one might still consider accompanying his liege but not dare close enough to seem overly friendly.
There really was no such need for that distance, Volga knew. He’d served under Lana’s command for years. Still, the pretenses of formality proved more comfortable than allowing him to drop his guard, even if it did frustrate his lady at times.
As it was, she’d shown him too much kindness by far from someone so pure. There was too much blood on his hands to ever stand as her equal. He had committed too many crimes to allow her gentle naivete to be directed his way for more than a few moments. Though it did bring a smile to his face to see Lana try.
It wasn’t long before the two arrived at the field of flowers Lana had mentioned, full of a wide myriad of hues - swift violets, blue nightshades, and even the rare Silent Princess popping up from between blades of grass to color the area in beautiful cool shades.
It was a sight to behold, and it was solely theirs - a private garden known only to the White Sorceress and her knight.
Volga settled beneath the shade of a tree with widespread branches, careful not to crush any stray blossoms growing in the shade away from their brethren. He rested his spear carefully against his shoulder before allowing his mind to wander. The knight was only vaguely aware of his charge before him enjoying the flowers - but that was just aware enough to keep her safe.
A small part of Volga couldn’t deny he was lucky, thinking again on where he’d come from and how far he’d gone since the day he found this place.
Any matter of terrible things could - and likely should - have happened to him. He easily could have died out on any battlefield. Even had he lived, the knight would have merely wandered from warzone to warzone, his life as meaningless and irrelevant as the ones he took.
But there was that miracle again. Mercy. The gods had shown him mercy. They were the ones who led him to Lana, and Lana had in turn shown him a kindness he was vastly undeserving of.
It was nothing short of a miracle that Volga got to spend his days in this blissful peace, even if there were still times he foolishly longed for action.
Even past that, when things really got down to the wire, Volga supposed he truly had only one complaint.
He breathed out another heavy sigh as he watched Lana’s back wander further away - still in sight, but assuredly out of reach. She was always out of reach.
The knight supposed it might be presumptuous of him but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny the warmth that flickering like a lit flame in his chest when he thought of the sorceress. Her smile was a treasure he’d locked away in the careful recesses of his mind. Her happiness was his sole goal - one he’d always strive to achieve.
Volga was not naive enough to believe he’d ever receive anything in return for all that he’d done and continued to do - nor did he want anything of the sort. Lana’s flower bloomed most beautifully without his bloodied hands sullying her. It was enough just to watch her bloom and enjoy her beauty from afar where he could properly protect. That had to be enough.
Of course, Lana hadn’t even the faintest inkling he felt this way. It was better she never found out, and Volga preferred it that way.
“Volga?”
The sorceress only had to say his name once to pull the knight from his thoughts.
He raised his head to meet her gaze, the faintest traces of his smile gone before she ever had the chance to see.
Still, her smile shone bright as she graced his bare head with a crown made of flowers, their stems tightly braided together so as not to pull away from each other - just as Volga didn’t pull away from her light touch.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Pretty, right?”
He offered only a small grunt in response. This had to be the strangest “helmet” to have ever rested upon his head. Flower crowns were hardly his thing. They simply didn’t fit him. The crown would have been far less surprising resting upon his charge’s bright blue hair instead.
Lana’s smile faltered and Volga froze.
“Do you not like it?” Her voice was hesitant, careful to not offend further.
She reached out to remove the crown, but he gently pushed her hands away before he had a chance, offering a rare smile for good measure.
“No,” he insisted. “Let it stay.”
“But-”
Lana’s lips trembled.
He gently took one of her shaking hands and brought it to his lips, placing a reverent kiss against her soft skin. It was the most affectionate he’d ever allow himself to be for her.
“It’s a gift for you,” he spoke slowly, letting his words sink in. “I want to keep wearing it.”
Slowly, a gentle smile returned to Lana’s face. It was all he could do to hold back the sigh of relief that wanted to escape him.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He nodded. “I am.”
Volga held his charge’s hand for only a few moments longer before propriety caught up with him. He let her go, silently watching as her pale hand fell back to her side.
It was great to see a smile had found its way back to its place - far removed from the pain she’d shown so clearly not even an hour before. It was likely the pain would once again return once the white sorceress returned to her work, but there was still time before she needed to think of that.
For now, all Volga wanted her to do was rest. Let her smile last as long as it could.
The gentle moment was interrupted by a soft rumble. Lana’s stomach. How long had it been since she last remembered to eat? Volga made a small mental note to remedy the situation when they returned home.
Home…
Yes, this was his home now. No other would do. And he liked it that way.
He was so lost in his own thoughts he barely noticed the cute way Lana’s cheeks flushed a brilliant red with embarrassment. She didn’t dare meet Volga’s eyes.
“W-we should probably head back, right? You must be getting hungry!” Lana said with a small anxious laugh, as though she weren’t the one in need of a good meal.
Still, Volga didn’t question her. Instead he stood and straightened himself, before turning back towards the temple.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m starving.”
It was far from the truth, but not necessarily a lie either. Anything to help his charge save face.
He began his walk back to the temple, only pausing for a few seconds when he felt Lana slip her hand into his much larger one once more. He froze at the contact and offered Lana a questioning glance.
“What?” she asked, smiling at him. “Let’s head back.”
“Let’s.”
It was far more than he deserved. Even her simplest kindnesses were far past what he was worthy of.
But that was what he loved about her.
Even without the reminder, Volga knew he’d do anything to protect her smile for the rest of his days. Perhaps even break down his guard, if the white sorceress gave him long enough.
Perhaps.