Summary: Volke and Nephenee were infraturated during the war, but they parted ways afterwards. Volke was sent to assassinate one of Nephenee's brothers, but can she convince him not to? Can she make him stop his killer ways?
'How pathetic,' Volke, an assassin, thought as he withdrew his stilleto from his target with a sickening sound. He was on a mission to kill...someone, and this poor fool was just in his way. So, he did what he did best, kill. He didn't care who it was he killed, as long as he got paid. No matter the reason, no matter who it affected, no care as to what power s/he held. The mission was to kill a guy somewhere in the countryside of Crimea.
'He had teal hair and was a child of some poor farmer, I think. Or was that the last one,' he wondered as he walked along inbetween the trees. After a while, he reached the village that his target was a resident of. There wasn't any activity in the streets, which was to be expected; it was the middle of the night. He silently stalked through the streets as he tried to find which house contained his target. It was a small, shack-like house at the edge of town that he determined was the correct house. 'Poor farmer's son, a shack; seems promising,' he mused to himself as he crept through an open window on the first floor.
What he saw there was not what he expected at all. In the kitchen was a turquoise-tressed maiden sitting at the table. But no, this wasn't any maiden, this was Nephenee, Volke's love during the war that ended not 6 months ago. He just stood there, in a silent shock, not believing that she was actually there. After what seemed like forever, she got up from the chair and caught glimpse of him, standing there, eyes wide in disbelief and dagger in hand.
"Volke, what are you doing here," she whispered harshly.
He replied with not a hint of emotion in his voice, "What I do best. Hired to kill someone in this town. What of it?"
Nephenee swallowed, "Who?"
"I cannot tell you"
"Why? Why can't you tell me?"
"It's top secret, but I will tell you if you pay me."
"Please don't kill whomever it was," she pleaded him.
Volke said nothing in reply, he kept his business air around him. "Do you know of some boy with teal hair and the son of a poor farmer in this town?" He needed help with this one. His employer gave nothing of details, but he did pay lucretively(sp?) which was the reason he took the job.
Nephenee recognized who he was describing, her brother. "You mean Jacob?"
"Yes, I think that was his name. Where does he live?"
Her face dropped and tears started to form in her once-glad eyes. "Please, I'm begging you, don't hurt him."
"I don't back down from a job once given. Now, where is he?"
Nephenee was getting desperate, "No, don't kill my broth--," she stopped suddenedly and covered her mouth with her hand. She ran to the doorway to the rooms.
"So, he lives here. Move out of the way Nephenee. Let me do my job and you will never hear from me again," he tried to shove her out of the way, but she kept her ground. "No!!!!," she nearly screamed, but did not. "Please, Volke, don't do this. I don't want you to. You deserve better than this life of endless murder." He was not being swayed in the least bit. Volke tried to get past her without killing her. He succeded, but she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on. "Please, I love you."
Volke stopped moving, "What?"
"I love you. I love my brother also. I don't want two people that I love trying to kill each other. I will say it no more: Do not kill him. I am begging you."
Silence. Nephenee sobbed silently into his back. He felt the tears of someone he forgot he loved once seep through the cloth of his shirt. After a while, which seemed like forever to the teal-tressed beauty, Volke sighed heavily and sheathed his dagger, "You win, I won't kill him."
The sobbing slowly stopped. "Thank you," she whispered hoarsely. She slowly released he grip from him, but he did something unexpected. He turned around and embraced her, "I'm sorry."
She shyly stood on her toes and put her lips against his, but quickly pulled back and stepped away. Volke was obviously in shock, but it was the good kind of shock. Instead of leaving like Nephenee thought he was going to do, he reapproached her and held her face in his hands, gently. She leaned into the touch and quietly asked, "Please stop killing."
Silence.
"Please, for me," she added for good measure.
Meanwhile, Volke's head was spinning out of control. This woman had released feelings that he never once though, nor believed he had. 'Why does she make me feel this way?' had to be the biggest question running through his head, while he was trying to figure out what to do. But, it was hard trying to think of logical answers with those deep oceans staring up at you. Those aqua eyes that he felt he could drown in if he looked at them long enough. Those beautiful eyes that he realized, at that moment, he longed for every night after they parted ways. Finally, he came to a conclusion: he was in love. He loved her, he wanted to stop anything and everything that dared to harm her. But, he considered, 'Is it, is she worth giving up my entire lifestyle?'
Nephenee face changed from hopefulness to sorrow. She thought that she couln't get through to him because he is taking forever to answer. She let out a small scoff and started to walk away.
'Wait, what is she doing? She's walking away. Stop her,' a small voice in Volke's head told him. He grabbed her wrist and turned her around. "I-I," he didn't know what to say. Damnnit, he was never good at this mushy shit, so he did the next best thing. He brought her close to his body and kissed her fully on the lips. That was his answer, he loved her, but he couldn't find the courage to say it.
Nephenee imediately knew his answer and she smiled inwardly. She knew that she had convinced him and that he would never leave her.
FIN
A/N: Well, that was my first one-shot with the paring Volke/Nephenee which has made it to the top of my fav parings list. I didn't think I did that bad, but if you think otherwise, please tell me. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.
