Disclaimer:I do not own Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance or Goddess of Dawn only the plot and the words used to tell this story…

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Story Summary:

“…I changed… I learned…I saw and what I saw… I liked.” Volke is given the mission to protect Lucia from the shadows, but what a pleasant surprise when his mission becomes something more. : Volke x Lucia : Fire Emblem 9: Path of Radiance. One-Shot. R&R.

-o0o-

Author’s notes:

Another one shot story this time about Volke and Lucia. Why this pairing you may ask… well why not? I love Volke and I could easily picture him with Lucia. Plus, there are far too few stories about him, right?

About the characters, well I am not sure if I managed to successfully portray them. Especially with Volke since there is not much insight into his past or his personality (him having only one support conversation with Bastian). About Lucia, well I may have changed and made her more daring to be able to pair them up.

Anyhow, enjoy and don’t forget to review!

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Story’s key:

“Talking”

Thinking

“SHOUTING”

‘Emphasis’

-“Flashback”-

-o0o-

“From the moment we enter this life we are in the flow of it. We measure it and we mock it, but we cannot defy it. We cannot even speed it up or slow it down... Or can we? Have we not each experienced the sensation that a beautiful moment seemed to pass too quickly, and wished to make it linger? Or felt time slow on a dull day, and wished that we could speed things up a bit?”

-Eisenheim (The Illusionist, 2006)-

“Yours to Command”

By: FenixPhoenix (Giselle González)

...One-Shot...

Volke tilted his head between amusement and intrigue as the blonde man before him gravely explained his mission with as much detail as possible.

“You do realize she is capable of taking care of herself, Bastian?” Volke argued as his mind was suddenly assaulted with memories of how skillfully Lucia had fought during the past war.

Truth be told, he hadn’t paid that much attention to Elincia’s vassal, but –the few times she had fought near him—he hadn’t once had to worry about her since she had always killed her enemies before he could lend a hand.

Yet, here was Bastian –perhaps the man that ought to know her the best—asking him to protect her. To keep tabs on her because he was worried ‘something’ might happen to her? What –or rather, who will be brave or foolish enough to endanger the life of Elincia’s most trusted?

“Of course I know her strength is one to behold,” snapped Bastian, “but dare I say, I also know she has a knack for getting in trouble…,” he crossed his arms and let his eyes wonder towards the window, “…especially when it comes to politics.”

“Politics…?” Volke smirked, no one but Bastian was any good with politics so it was not a surprise that his alarm for the swordmaster was due to that.

“Fine, fine,” Bastian turned to the assassin that was sitting in a relaxed fashion on his comfy couch, “I’ll indulge you, dearest Volk –though time is of the essence-- and briefly explain the situation. Lucia has been… ‘investigating’ some of the senators on her own account and I fear some –if not most of them will try to ‘quell’ her with… brute tactics.”

“They’ll try to kill her,” said Volke wondering if he should add the splendid couch to the price since he was getting to like it very much and –in his opinion-- Bastian had five too many.

“Exactly,” said his contractor.

“Hmm… a hundred and I’ll keep an eye on her for a month. After that it will cost you five thousand more per day,” he said, his dark-stone eyes boring into the Count’s beaming ones.

The sage grinned and clapped once, “Wonderful!”

“…plus the couch,” said Volke tapping the piece of wine furniture especially since Bastian had not even flinched at the price he had settled.

Bastian frowned quite surprised by that but, with a shrug, accepted nonetheless. After that, he had given Volke a bunch of addresses where he could find Lucia before the assassin departed melting into the darkness outside.

-o0o-

For the next two weeks since his meeting with Bastian, Volke followed Lucia like a shadow being extra careful to stay concealed at all times –least he wished the swordmaster to be alerted by his presence. Quite fascinated, though, he learned that Lucia spent most of her time alone and that –during such moments—she indulged into activities he had never fancied where part of her life.

One of those certain things –perhaps the one he found the most intriguing—was the fact that she was close to becoming an expert in the art of lock picking. And, let it be said, it was not any lock she picked but the most difficult ones to open. Why those? Well, because the investigations Bastian had told him about meant Lucia would enter the Senators’ houses at night –quite stealthily—and rummage through their stuff in search for incriminating evidence.

What would Bastian or Geoffrey think if they saw you now? He marveled with a tingle of amusement when he saw her moving –almost catlike—through the garden of a big house, careful to keep herself out of the guard’s view, as she made her way towards the back door of the mansion.

He tilted his head and settled between the thick branches of the tree he was currently hiding at when she disappeared behind the door. Nevertheless, just before he could fully relax, something quite unpredictable happened.

The owner of the house –who was supposed to be out with a lover—was coming back with his personal guard (consisting on twenty warriors) moving like ants around their ‘queen’, ready to protect him at all times.

He cursed, knowing that by the time Lucia realized that the senator was back, it would be too late for her to either get out or hide. So --jumping down-- he glided through the darkness of the night and the bushes of the garden. Then –quite a lot faster than she had— he unlocked the back entrance and made his way through the almost deserted corridors inside.

Each room he passed he scanned quickly in search for the blue haired swordmaster. It was not, however, until he reached the biggest room –careful not to be seen by the servants—that he found her sitting before a desk rummaging through some papers.

She turned around when she heard the sound of the door clicking shut but, before she could reach for her weapon, his hand took hold of her wrist while his other hand he placed above her lips. He felt her shifting as she tried to get away and Volke cursed when her elbow connected painfully with his stomach.

“It’s me…,” he hissed as he spun her around, his hand still on her mouth.

“Volke?” she asked in a hushed whisper when she had pushed his hand away, “what are you doing here?!”

“There isn’t much time,” he said eyeing the door that --he was sure-- was soon to be opened, “the senator is back. We need to hide.”

Lucia’s blue eyes widened with the news but, just as fast as they had widened, they became calm and composed. He raised an eyebrow unable to help but be amazed by her quick recovery.

“This way,” she said taking hold of his hand and guiding him towards a door of what looked like a closet. She stepped in first and pulled him with her before closing the door.

Volk frowned when he noticed the little space they were in. Around them were hanged coats and jackets and therefore the space left would have been only okay for one person to stand comfortably. However, they were two and as such he felt Lucia’s hands upon his chest and their legs almost touching; one of hers between his.

“This is the coat’s closet,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear and sending an odd feeling through his entire being, “…it’s summer now, so I am sure he won’t be opening this door anytime soon.”

He nodded but remained quiet, suddenly very aware of how good her touch made him feel. He closed his eyes and reminded himself to keep his face looking at the door for if he were to turned –he knew—his face would be awfully closed to hers and he didn’t want that... or did he?

He felt her suddenly tense when the door to the room opened and –probably unconsciously—she moved even closer towards him until he felt her hair tickling one side of his face.

“This is a nice room,” the voice of a woman said as she entered the room followed by another set of feet.

“Yes it is,” the senator replied, his voice followed by smooching sounds as he kissed the woman and led her to the bed.

Though they could not see, they could easily pictured the activity the pair outside were engaging on; the sounds of moans, groans and ‘yes!’ were quite graphic enough for them. Volke did not know whether to blush or laugh at his strange situation. Never would he have imagined this would happen! To be locked inside a closet with a beautiful woman hearing two strangers having sex… what a world!

Despite himself, he shifted with embarrassment when the pair outside reached a climax and was quite glad he had his mask to cover the slight blush that was tainting his cheeks. Presently, he heard Lucia groaning and, finally turning towards her, he found her face bright crimson; their faces, as he had predicted, mere inches apart.

She scowled when she saw the tingle of amusement in his eyes and mouthed, “Not a word.”

He raised both eyebrows as though he didn’t understood what she was talking about and to both –his delight and shock—he felt her burying her face on the place between his neck and shoulder. Without thinking –and blaming his reflexes—his arms clasped her waist and he was not sure if he did it because he wanted her closer or because he wished to push her away. Perhaps, as contradicting as it was, he wanted both.

Lucia’s reaction to his action, however, baffled him for –instead of slapping his hands away—her fingers clasped around the front of his jerkin. They stayed like that; quite still, waiting and waiting, hot with embarrassment and probably something else, until the sounds outside ceased.

“Let’s wait a bit longer… just in case,” she whispered; this time her lips much closer to his ear.

Volk nodded curtly, his hands now on either of her hips and after a couple of minutes he felt her hands retreating from his chest and opening the door with a careful motion so as not to make a noise. Once sure that the owner and his lover were sleeping, she stepped outside and –odd enough—Volk immediately began to miss the closeness he had enjoyed not a second ago.

How queer a feeling! How strange it was this impulse he felt… this impulse which almost ‘demanded’ that he pulled her back into his arms and that he kiss the lips that –not long ago—had been so close to his own!

When, though? When had his feelings evolved from indifference to interest and to this… this thing he felt which he could only explained as a crazy desire --an intense ‘yearning’ for her touch and her complete attention.

“Volke,” he snapped out of his tumultuous thoughts when he heard her calling between urgency and worry.

He nodded in reassurance that he was alright as his stepped outside and took the lead, since moving undetected was more of his especially than hers. Quickly they made their way through the corridor and down the stairs. Yet, just as the door to freedom came into view, they heard a most unwelcomed sound.

“YOU THERE, HALT!” a guard had come out of a room just as they were passing by and was quick to fall into action.

Instinctively, Volk took Lucia’s hand and, without even sparing a glance back, he broke into a run.

“Darn! He called reinforcements,” Lucia informed him after they had crossed half of the garden.

Volke groaned when he heard the unmistakable sound of numerous boots crushing the leaves outside and becoming stronger and stronger with each passing second.

“How many?” he asked her, his eyes scanning the area around him in search for an escape route.

“A dozen,” she said, “we’ll have to fight them…”

His mind worked furiously trying to come up with a solution. His mission was to keep Lucia safe. That much he not only needed but wanted to do above all else!

“You can’t be caught here,” he told her stopping and turning towards her, “I’ll take care of them… go!”

He pulled her away and placed himself between her and the guards as he took out his short stiletto. He would not let them touch one hair of her head.

“Volke,” he spared a glance her way and saw, to his queer satisfaction, worry etched all over her face.

“Go, now!” he commanded and, turning around, he moved towards the guards with a speed that befuddled his opponents.

He moved around the men slashing, trusting and parrying as quickly and as skillfully as he could. Every one of his moves was pumped by adrenaline and, hence, he felt little the wounds that would have worried him in any other circumstance.

He killed the first man with ease, then… the second… the third… the fourth…

He felt a slash across his back and spun around in time to paint a bloody smile upon the throat of his aggressor.

Next, he parried a sword and counterattacking, killed the sixth guard. Now only half stood; their grinning faces –visible under the shining moon-- indicating they were having fun.

A man charged and the seventh guard went down as Volke jumped and deliver a killer blow by inserting his stiletto inside the man’s skull. He jumped back in time to avoid another sword only to feel yet another blade biting his right shoulder.

He kicked the man who had been upon him and, throwing a knife, killed him before he could deliver a second blow.

Then he turned --intent on fending off the remaining four—but just as he faced the nearest one of them, he felt a sword slashing across his chest and promptly felt two pairs of hands hitching his arms rendering him helpless and at their mercy.

His dark eyes –still filled with the frenzy of the battle —turned from one man to the next wondering what—or rather, how would they kill him.

“Who are you and what were you doing in the senator’s house?” barked the man who looked to be the highest ranking while pulling the assassin’s mask down brusquely.

Volke felt a wave of, not panic but, serenity assaulting him. He had always thought he would die for a mission and though that was party true in this case, there was another thing that eased his mind and proved the fact that fate had a different thing in store of him. He would not truly die ‘only’ for his mission!

How could he when his mission had ceased to be and became something more –something he had suddenly desired for himself… something. No, not something but someone for whom he was willing to freely give his life for…

He had saved ‘her’ because he wanted to and that was enough to make him proud. His life had at last found its purpose and his death would at last served that purpose.

And with that thought ringing loud inside his head, he smiled at his executioners. What joy to have found what was missing in his life, even if he would not experienced it!

“You mock me?” the guard said angrily as he ordered the man that was standing beside him to deliver pain.

Volke braced himself just as he felt the man’s huge knuckles connecting hard against his jaw one…two…three times before the man moved to punch his chest, drawing air out of his lungs unmercifully after the first two punches.

The assassin spat blood and phlegm feeling his jaw already swelling and a river of blood pouring out from the end of his left eyebrow. He cursed silently and, just as he was getting ready for the new set of punches, he heard the sound of hoofs, the neigh of a horse and a voice… her voice.

“Get your hands off him!” she hissed cutting the man on his left side right where his stood before her sword find the man on his right and, with a sweep like motion, beheaded him.

The last two men she fought with ease killing them by thrusting her sword through the chest of the first man and slicing the jugular of the officer.

“Volke,” he was on his knees clutching at the wound of his chest when he felt her kneel beside him.

“I…I’m alright,” he lied trying to stand up only to realize that moving a muscle ached as hell now that the adrenaline had left his system.

“Come on,” he felt her almost hugging him while pulling him up and to his feet.

With effort he managed to get on the horse and once he felt her sitting in front of him, he stumbled forward leaning on her for support.

“Hang in there,” she said worriedly, taking his hands and placing them around her waist.

He grunted with discomfort when he felt the horse switching into a fast gallop and –mustering all his strength—he fought to stay awake.

“Take a right here,” he whispered; his voice low and weak upon her ear.

She did as told and kept following his directions until they were out of the city. Then, before she could ask, she visualized a small cabin near the outskirts of a forest.

“Is that it?” she asked him and felt him nod weakly.

“That’s… my… house,” he said slumping towards her as he felt his strength slipping away alongside his consciousness…

-o0o-

He felt his throat hoarse and raspy as he opened his eyes sluggishly. His mind was filled with fog as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He groan feeling the beads of sweat running down every inch of his body.

“Volke?” he head her voice, soft and worried whispering in his ear.

He wanted to say something but his mind was having trouble with making sentences.

“Lucia?” he said weakly wishing he could ask her if she was alright; wishing he could ask her if she would stay…

“It’s alright, Volke,” he felt a cold sponge wiping the sweat of his face and neck and chest, “I am here,” he felt her fingers brushing his hair, “just sleep.”

And he did.

-o0o-

Volke groaned as he felt a body that had not moved in days protesting as he shifted in the bed. He opened his eyes and blinked thrice before everything came into focus. He recognized the ceiling of his house as he lied very still trying next to remember how it was exactly he had arrived home and –most importantly—what had happened since.

Then, in seconds, the images of his last memory came tumbling down memory lane with such rapidness that he felt the beginning of a headache. He sighed deeply and, moving the blanket that was covering him, he peeped below it in order to study the wounds on his body.

The first thing he noticed, though, was the fact that he had no shirt and different pants, than the ones he had used, and felt very self conscious of the fact that only one person could have removed them…

That out of his mind, he realized there was a slice in his chest which had been patched quite badly. He figured that the hand that had sewed the skin was not as professional as his but he could not complain; at least there was no more blood and the wound seemed to be healing quite nicely.

The wound on his shoulder was less grave and, touching his face, he could feel his jaw was not swelled and that the cut on his eyebrow was patched. The wound of his back… well, since he was laying on it he figured it must have been a shallow slice that would –most probably—left a thin, almost imperceptible scar behind.

“Volke,” he tensed when he heard her voice. He had been so centered on his current status that he hadn’t even considered the fact that she was still there. Though he didn’t mind at all…

Slowly he turned towards the genesis of the voice only to find the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen. For lying in the couch Bastian had given him as payment laid the peaceful sleeping form of Lucia.

HadI known the couch would include such an exquisite present I would have asked it of Bastian a long time ago, he thought playfully as a crooked smile parted his lips and his eyes softened with so alluring a vision.

“Volke… be careful,” she mumbled again shifting slightly, “just… rest.”

She’s dreaming… of me?

Volke felt all his pain being cast away by that single thought and being replaced by a whole different –albeit welcomed—feeling of satisfaction and excitement. Truth be told, he had never had any time for women, especially since his job demanded almost all his time. Yet, never, until now, had he reflected upon how much he desired the company of a woman. No. Not of any woman, he knew, but of ‘this’ woman.

This gorgeous and brave lady, he realized between terror and happiness, had somehow stolen what he had guarded the most. She had stolen his heart and melted, with one look, his cold exterior.

Silently he cast aside the blankets and, stretching his sore muscles, he stood. Next, he took the blanket he had used and covered Lucia with it before he moved towards the kitchen. He had never cooked breakfast for two –not that he ever thought he would-- yet, odd as it was, it somehow seemed right. As though this was a thing that had been fated to be regardless of how he had lived his life until now and which, as such, should not be question.

When had she woken up, he was not sure. But just as he placed the dishes on the table and turned towards the threshold that led to his room (the only other room of the small cabin apart from the bathroom) he saw her standing there almost as if frozen by surprise.

“You cooked breakfast?” she asked, her eyes wide with shock.

He frowned. No, those plates cooked themselves… Of course he had cooked them! Couldn’t she tell that?

“I am fairly certain this is edible,” he replied carefully, not knowing what to say or do and suddenly very aware of the fact that he hadn’t put a shirt on when her eyes scanned his body just as a pink blush painted her cheeks.

He cursed inwardly and moved towards her intent on putting on a darn shirt when suddenly, just before he could pass her by, he felt her hands closing around his waist. Before he knew it he had reflectively hugged her back softly, afraid that if he used the force that his heart demanded, he would crush her.

“Thank you,” she said, her fingers tracing idly the scar on his back.

“It was nothing,” he said and felt as she pushed him a bit away to look him in the eye.

“What were you doing in the senator’s house, though?” she asked truly curious.

Volke thought of lying but quickly discarded it as an option. It was simply not his style.

“I was looking for you,” he replied vaguely; his dark eyes drowning into her ocean ones; his hands on each of her hips.

She frowned, “Why?”

“Bastian hired me to keep an eye on you,” he replied and couldn’t help smirking when she saw incredulity flashing through her eyes. Bastian was right… she looked the best when angry…

“So you did it all for Bastian, then!” she snapped trying to push him away but his arms tightened around her, afraid that if she disengaged his arms she would walk away and out his life before he had time to discover more about his newfound feelings.

“At first I did,” he said truthfully moving forward until her back was flat against the wall, “but then I changed… I learned…,” he leaned toward her, “I saw and what I saw,” his eyes glinted with interest and something else, “… I liked.”

He saw her blush and wondered if her heart was drumming as quickly as his. It was maddening! Her touch burned him yet he clung to her like a drowning man would cling to a boat!

He had never felt this way before. Never in his life had he felt this sensation that was exhilarating and, because of it, utterly frightening! He felt as though he had suddenly lost control of his every thought while his mind yielded to the mercy of the heart that beat for her and her alone.

He saw her eyes darting from his eyes towards his lips and back again. He knew what it meant; he knew it because he had been doing the exact same thing…

He smiled disarmingly when he saw her blush intensify just as her hands clasped around his neck.

“Do it,” she whispered parting her lips in invitation.

He pulled her closer to him and brushed his lips against hers in a feathery fashion; as if testing if this was what she had meant. She closed her eyes and moved forward, her lips searching for his this time. He smiled as he felt her mouth upon his and deepened the kiss to the point of maddening passion.

Breakfast completely forgotten, he felt her clinging to him as her knees fastened on either side of his hips. His grip tightened around her waist as he moved towards the bed. The same bed that –though it was made for two—had served just for him…until today.

Gently, he laid her down before he lowered himself on top of her and kissed her again. Clothes soon became superfluous as his hands worked expertly on her body, discovering with intense satisfaction every inch of her pale and porcelain skin.

She did not lagged behind as her hands touched every muscle of his body; tracing every scar while her lips kept kissed his hard jaw softly. And he almost felt as though she was planning on curing his bruises with the power of her lips. And, though he knew it wouldn’t work, he was not about to ask her to stop anytime soon.

For the first time in his life Volke understood what it was to lose himself --to cast away control and plunge into the unreasonable sense of an alcoholic passion. He melted with her, losing himself in a touch that made him forget where he ended and where she started. And at last, as his eyes bored into her, he knew what it meant when they said that ‘two became one’.

When it was over he kissed her swollen lips feathery before he rolled and lied on his side; his eyes gratifyingly studying her blushed and heaving profile. A second or two later she shifted to look at him and flashed him the most beautiful of smiles.

“When did I begin to interest you?” she asked playfully.

He smiled crookedly, “One thousand.”

She raised an eyebrow at his odd response.

“That’s what it will cost you for me to answer,” he explained laconically.

She scowled at him and he couldn’t help but grin childishly in answer.

When her face remained undisturbed, Volke chuckled and brushed her cheek with his palm before answering, “It was around the time I learned of your lock picking abilities.”

This time it was her turn to laugh and it was such a joyful sound –so strange to hear in his line of work—he immediately stored the memory on his heart knowing he will be able to replay it whenever he wanted.

“I never thought I would say this,” she began, her eyes soft, “but I am happy for Bastian’s over protectiveness.”

“Yes. We should thank him,” he agreed thinking how odd it was that they were now together when he had –in the past—pictured her hand in hand with Bastian. Now, though, if he were to see the sage making a move on her he would most probably kill him.

“So… what happens now?” she asked after a pause and he saw fear flashing through her eyes. Did she truly think he would leave her so easily?

“Hmmm… Now,” he leaned towards her and kissed her again, “I am yours to command.”

She smiled in approval, “I could use some help in gathering evidence.”

He rolled to his back and held her close, “Yes. You could.”

“But what about Bastian, though? Are you going to tell him… about us and everything?” she asked and rose an eyebrow when his lips parted into a smile.

“And stop being paid for seeing you?” he said smoothly, “No. Let us keep it a secret for now…,” she frowned and he added, “At least until I get two hundred thousand from him.”

“That’s evil,” she said snuggling him but he could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Yes. It is,” he said draping an arm around her when her fingers began to trace the scar of his chest.

Yes, he wouldn’t mind this a bit. He wouldn’t mind sharing his bed if he would get to sleep every night with her around his arms and wake up every morning to the sight of her beautiful face.

No. He wouldn’t mind cooking for two from that day on… even if they ate their breakfast cold…

..:.FIN.:..

Story Written by: Giselle González

© Fire Emblem is Property of Intelligent System and distributed by Nintendo.

:…:Other Fire Emblem Stories:...:

-- The Beginning of the End --

ARekka no Ken story featuring almost all characters with various pairing such as: LynxRath, EliwoodxNinian, HectorxFlorina, HeathxPricilla, NinoxJaffar etc. It centers on the main question of “What if Nergal was nothing but a puppet?” and depicts a whole new adventure.

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She was a woman who needed help to find what she was looking for and he was simply a man who needed something to look for... Erk x Pricilla. "Fire Emblem7: Rekka no Ken". OneShot.

-- Change of Feathers --

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