Based on Radiant Dawn, Part 4-5: Unforgivable Sin. Volke is a Branded. Slight Volke/Bastian at the end.
Character(s): Volke, Bastian
Words: 2,489
He had been working with Bastian for much too long.
The man could already tell when he was seething or otherwise upset. After all, they had been working ever since the older man was seventeen. Or rather, since he appeared seventeen. For really, the man was much older than he appeared, and Volke could almost laugh at the irony. For years, Bastian had known he was what he was, but it never bothered him. It was a bit of a surprising change from Begnion, but the man appreciated it. Bastian wasn't bothered, and he would continue to hire Volke. That's all he wanted.
And, when Bastian hired him for this fiasco with Duke Renning, he was about to refuse. But, honestly, he accepted the job for a petty reason. Not for the money, but because he would rather like to help Bastian achieve his goal. Crimea could use another good royal, after Elincia, and he was impressed at the virtue of that entire family.
Ah, how much he really liked Crimea couldn't be expressed in simple words.
No, but really. He should have denied while he could. But he didn't, because in reality, he had no idea what he was getting into. It was the last thing he could have expected. To be faced with… that man.
Izuka. A name that filled him with disgust and slight horror. A name that irritated him so much that he felt things crawling on him after. He hated that man with a burning passion. Someone who disgraced the earth like so should have been wiped away.
Volke wanted to kill him right there for being so cruel, so inhumane towards his Laguz brethren, whether or not they treated him like nothing or not.
Laguz were a kind that he could sympathize with, no matter how miniscule the similarities. But none spoke to him more than his own Branded. That was, of course, before he met Bastian.
He never quite understood how. Bastian managed to understand him before he understood himself. The blond man caught on fast, almost terrifyingly so. Volke wanted to be able to express himself, but with Bastian around, he didn't even have to. Bastian could easily just take a look at him and tell him how he's feeling. He didn't know if it was a good or bad thing yet.
Probably both.
Ah, but back to the point. Volke accepted that job offer, and once again, he met Izuka. He was previously employed by the man, and it disgusted him, but money was money. All of it was good. But, that job was done, and Volke never held on biases from old jobs. Former employers meant nothing to him… except Bastian. But he was an exception.
Bastian was an exception for a lot of things.
They arrived at the Laguz Alliance with the mad Duke Renning in tow. After a short conversation with Ike, Volke returned to find Izuka gone, like he had never been there. The brown haired man frowned, obviously displeased, and reported said information to Bastian.
"Our captive has disappeared," Volke reported in. He has been gone for approximately half an hour." The assassin didn't frown or make a noise of discontent, but Bastian seemed to see it anyway.
"He escaped?!" Bastian exclaimed, quite uncharacteristically. "No! We must find him! Here is your next assignment. Find the escaped prisoner immediately!"
After accepting the gold, Volke set off to find the missing madman. He could hear Bastian apologizing behind him, but he paid it no heed and continued on his way. After finding the man, he reported back to the blond sage, his employer, about the news. The man was in a frenzy, telling General Ike, Empress Sanaki and the girl, Micaiah, about it. And, he watched as they set off into battle.
When they finished preparing, the man came from the shadows. He watched from below the trees, and frowned slightly when Bastian came towards him.
"Ah, my partner in crime," the man greeted. "How shall I convince you to move those leaden feet of yours into action? How much "convincing" will it cost?"
Volke pondered for only a few moments, before deciding that he really did not like Izuka, and he would make an exception. "Three thousand."
He heard Bastian chortle, and a grin form on the other man's face. "I thought I was the jester. Considering your usual schedule of services, three thousand is negligible!"
The fireman slightly shook his head at the man's eccentric nature. "I don't like him much. Call it a personal discount if you want. Are you hiring me or not?" The man impatiently tapped his foot.
"Of course I shall take your discount! Do as you wish when you see him. Now get to work." Bastian's voice was serious, even with that light face.
Volke simply muttered back an 'understood' and went on his way. He heard Bastian's faint murmurs, and they sounded similar to… "I almost pity old Izuka…"
The assassin joined at the front of the battlefield, feeling a bit of remorse for the feral laguz. There were people that he could relate to, no matter how minutely. He could only imagine how Ike and the other laguz sympathizers would feel… how the laguz in their ranks would feel. What Volke felt must be nothing compared to how they felt, how they reacted. But, they would be strong. He had faith that they would be strong. They had a better reason to fight, after all.
Bastian must have whispered something to Soren, because soon, Volke found himself staring at tge ugly face of Izuka himself. When the madman saw him, his eyes were lit in a mixture of fury and fear.
"You!" Izuka spoke. "You're…"
Volke sneered from behind his mask. There were faint murmurs of a memory, wanting to sprout up. He remembered the cold. Once upon a time, he was indeed employed by Izuka.
"Are you the fireman?" the old man asked. The brunet turned his head to gaze on the man with garnet eyes.
"I am," came the simple response.
"Good!" Izuka responded with a light cackle. "I'll pay you 50,000 to find me materials!"
Volke had accepted, but he didn't like the man, or his oddly disturbing aura. All he knew back then was that he had a bad feeling, and that he was right. Oh, and was he right. Izuka was no doubt one of the creepiest men he had ever met. He reeked of intelligence corruption, evil. And, really, Volke was never one for superstitions but Izuka was going to get some major karma.
He still accepted the job. He still let himself be assosciated with the mad scientist.
It ended well enough. Volke got the materials and the money, and they parted ways.
Now, the assassin couldn't help but feel the slightest bit guilty. After all, he had gathered the materials for the original feral potion.
"Under a new contract." Short and sweet. "Goodbye, Izuka." He brandished his blade.
Volke ignored Izuka's screams for the feral ones, instead focusing on the anger that was fueling him. He normally never allowed himself to lose control of his emotions, but this was a sure exception. After all, Volke was involved. He had indirectly helped cause the suffering for all these laguz. Although the other members couldn't tell, he knew. There were wolf corpses in the dungeons, members of his own lineage. Even if he could not consider them family, he was partially their race, and he felt remorse for them.
He wasn't a lifeless skeleton, after all.
But, he was far from over-emotional. The man could normally keep his feelings in check, but it was a different story for today. He felt anger fueling his blade, rage blinding his sight. There was nothing, nothing, that could stop him from being infuriated.
The battle began.
Volke went first, the legendary Baselard in his hands. He had been fortunate enough that Sothe would give it ip to him, but he was glad. After all, the Baselard only served to make him more threatening. His strike came down, slightly off balance, and cleanly hit the madman's shoulder. He leapt back.
Izuka made a noise, charging a powerful spell at Volke to kill him. The man barely dodged, and he grimaced visibly at the pain. His anger was clouding his fighting. He could not let himself fall here, not to this man.
The man brushed the sweat-matted hair out of his face. He spun the dagger in his hand, keeping eyes locked on the hunched figure. After a jump back, he dug his foot into the ground and launched forward with his scarf trailing behind. The attack hit cleanly in Izuka's neck, and he watched the man crumple to the ground. Two flips backwards and Volke was right back where he started the battle. The assassin glanced around quickly to see if anyone saw his blunder, and he met eyes with Bastian, gold clashing with garnet.
Bastian nodded his head at the man, and watched him turn his head. He gave himself a small smile as they all gathered back.
There were many words from both Ike and Micaiah, but Volke paid both of them no heed, only hearing the thrumming of his heart in his ears, and continuously going over his impending conversation with Bastian. How was he going to explain his uncontrolled anger at Izuka? Bastian knew many things about his longtime partner, but he didn't know everything. Volke liked it that way. He was supposed to be one big secret - something that shouldn't have existed. But he did. He did exist.
Brandeds should never have come into existence, but here he was. Here was Volke, Soren, Stefan, and every other Branded to ever live and die. All of them were a mistake. But, it was ironic. While Volke doubted his own existence, Bastian heralded him as one of the best meetings of his life. Without Volke, Bastian would not have had the opportunity to cure Duke Renning and Volke would not have had the chance to get well known. He wouldn't be able to have any of his success.
And really, that would be a damn shame.
After the talking subsided, the brunet man slipped away to find Bastian's tent, honestly wanting to get the impending conversation over with. He frowned when he heard Bastian's voice float out from the heavy canvas, but he sighed, and stepped inside the tent, making sure to keep his shoes out. Bastian had already begun to undress, his cloak carefully hung and his fingers working on his ascot, but the blond sage turned around and grinned with delight.
"Volke!" he said. "There you are!"
The man in question rolled his eyes, simply frowning at the other man's eccentric nature. Whether or not they really got along, their two personalities were so opposite that they balanced each other out. Volke and his silence, his passive nature, his awkward mannerisms. Bastian, and his loudness, his expressive nature, his confidence. They were two peas in a pod.
"What did you want to talk about." He frowned, pulling down his mask to show his face. His arms crossed over his chest.
"Many things, my dear Volke," Bastian replied. "But, let's start with the first. You reacted quite adversely to Izuka's taunts." There was an uncharacteristic, serious look on his face. It made Volke uncomfortable, and he shifted a bit.
"... It's nothing." The assassin glanced away. "Nothing that you need to worry about."
The sage frowned at his response. "Volke. This is no time for playing around. Tell me."
He weighed his options. He could not tell Bastian, and everything would go along like always, but Bastian would be upset with him for who knows how long. He could show Bastian, and most likely be shunned and unemployed by him for years. But, he felt like at least, he should show the man after years of employing him. They had some sort of trust, an odd, mutual trust.
"... Alright," Volke muttered. "You tell no one."
At Bastian's nod, the man's gloved fingers reached behind his head and worked on the knot in his headband. He slipped the fabric off of his head, revealing the simple, crimson mark, an obscured and fierce wolf. It was nowhere near as magnificent as Skrimir's, nor was it as beautiful as a Heron's. It was… simple. Plain. And somehow, it fit the man's personality more than anything.
The man kept his garnet eyes on Bastian. "There. I'm a Branded." He tried to gauge the man's expression.
Bastian stroked his chin thoughtfully, wondering how to respondto this. Now, he didn't have a problem, but Volke was a very fickle man. Things had to be taken carefully if he wanted to keep his friendly relationships with the man. Unlike common belief, Volke was not an emotionless man. He was actually quite full of emotion, although in the most subtlest of ways. Little ticks of emotion or displeasure.
"... Now, now Volke," Bastian started. "No need to be so serious. I know this is an important confession for you."
Volke blandly stared at Bastian. "Is that all you have to say?" There was the slightest bit of disbelief under his voice.
"What?" Bastian was surprised. "You think I'd really be upset over you being a Branded? Trust me, my friend, I've figured for a bit." He gave the man a smile. "It's not a problem to me. You are my friend and ally, and nothing will change that." The sage stood up and looked at the assassin face to face. His smile grew a bit at Volke's slightly confused (and interested) face.
The blond sage gave a light press against Volke's lips, laughing lightly at his surprised face. The assassin was bewildered. He knew that homosexual relationships existed, but he never found interest in them… or rather, any sort of relationship. But, as he thought more about it, he wasn't exactly adverse about a relation with someone he was comfortable with. Really though, he was never comfortable with anyone. Except, you know, Bastian. Bastian was the only exception, ironically.
He could feel a slight flush creeping on his face from the blond man's actions, coughing awkwardly and diverting his attention somewhere else. However, he could still see the man's smile.
"Now, does that assure you about our mutual relationship?" Bastian asked, a smidge of a smug tone in his voice.
Volke mumbled some… choice words under his breath, and he turned to leave. Bastian sighed, but the smile remained on his face as he watched the brown haired man walk out of his tent. His light laughter did not go unheard by the assassin, and Volke found himself tugged up his mask before he realized it.
"My, I never thought he could get flustered like that," Bastian mused. "How interesting. I hope this relationship can truly blossom."
what did i just do
yeah that's right I just wrote a Volke/Bastian fanfic without even meaning to.