Story Series: How to Tame Your Volga
Disclaimer: Still don't own Hyrule Warriors.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the fact that it's cold where I live and there's been a snowstorm-in fact, it's snowing right now and I'm cold so why not some quick Volink? There's a popular headcanon and I've seen other Volga fics use this premise as well that Volga has a high body temperature, which would be nice if you were cold in a snowstorm right now. Stupid drafty houses...
As always, thanks for reading.
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Drabble Title: A Warm Blanket
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Volga smirked wickedly at the pathetic humans complaining of the cold as he stood barefoot in the snow in little more than his black underclothes and his arm and ankle bandage bindings. The sniveling soldiers stared at him in jealousy and bewilderment as they shivered and clanged in their frosty armor. Volga could open his flame reservoir and raise his body heat at will—how foolish the humans were to climb a blustery, brutal mountain with no means of withstanding the unrelenting cold!
How miserable they were sitting pressed against one another to conserve heat, huddling around fires. They sipped quickly-cooling cups of broth in the spitting sleet and snow. Their teeth chattered and lips quivered for conversation. And Volga watched from a sturdy, snowy ledge away from the humans with a dark smile and a steaming cup of broth.
He wondered how many of them would perish in the night. He certainly wouldn't. No, he would rise and fight without ache or frostbite in the morning. Only the strong would survive tonight and most of the royal whelp's men were weak and unworthy. It would be him and the boy left come dawn.
…Or Volga had thought so.
Cocooned in his military sleeping bag across from him, the boy shivered violently, his blankets rustling like treetops in a storm. Volga listened and sneered and turned over onto his other side. How pathetic…the Hero among the humans, their greatest warrior and champion shook and whimpered and clutched his covers so tightly his knuckles shone white in the moonlight. He was acting far more like a little boy than the dragon knight cared for.
He is supposed to be brave and strong and exceptional in all regards to his kind, Volga thought, frowning. The Hero is not supposed to freeze to death in his sleep.
He heard him blow on his hands inside his covers. He had overheard among the fodder soldiers as they gawked in disbelief at his bare feet that frostbite started in the hands and feet first and if not tended to quickly, the fingers and toes were first to go. The dragon knight knew little of how to recognize frostbite, never needing to worry about it for himself nor did his dragonkin travel to cold lands but he did understand that without fingers, a sword could not be held and if he could not hold a sword, there would be no one worthy to challenge him.
Foolish creatures, these humans are, Volga snorted harshly in derision as he rose off the ground, and far too reliant on saviors.
He laid down beside his cocoon and wrapped his arm around him. Evidently startled, Link scrambled for an opening and poked his head out from his covers. He blinked in surprise as he saw it was Volga curling up against him.
"Your blanket rustling irritated me," he said, scowling.
Link grinned as he turned over toward him and buried himself in the curve of his neck, his nose resting against his Adam's apple. He entangled himself in his arms and legs and pressed against him as Volga opened his flame reservoir and spiked his body heat. The dragon knight blew his hot breath slowly over him. In time, between the warmth of his breath and body, Link's shivers disappeared. The pictograph of warmth and comfort, he lay peaceably in Volga's arms.
As time passed, Volga lay resting with his eyes closed. Feeling Link's hands stir and wander, Volga smirked without reopening his eyes.
"You're going to have to do more than warm your hands if you want to bury them there," he said, as Link slowly slid his hands away sheepishly.