Story Title: The Reason For The Season

Disclaimer: I still don't own Hyrule Warriors.

Author's Notes: This one's kinda strange and goofy because it's a non-canon Christmas special, so I separated it from my other Volink prompt series, "How to Tame Your Volga". I've missed writing Volink, and I'm a little rusty at writing it, but there are still things I want to write for it. And I'm kinda proud of myself for this one because it's the first time in a while that I've done a one-shot that I actually wrote in one shot.

I've been in a bit of a writing slump, but this silly little idea came quite easily—probably because there was no pressure on it. I'm not much of a Christmas person—working in retail tends to take out a lot of the joy out of Christmas—but by the end of this, even I was feeling a bit of the holiday spirit. And it was fun to write Volga's complete bafflement to the nonsense around him.

Happy holidays to all, and thanks for reading.

-o-

Story Title: The Reason For The Season

-o-

Humans were foolish creatures with ridiculous traditions and celebrations, Volga had decided and was not going to be persuaded otherwise. Dragons had no need for holidays, especially ones with so many customs and all the pomp and circumstance building up to the big day. Dragons celebrated victories on the field of battle with a grand feast and rounds of song (and drink, if available), but then it was done, and they prepared for the next battle. Victories were recorded in memory but never observed year after year—unlike humans, who had a holy day for every great battle won, passage of the seasons, and notable member of the royal family's day of birth. Not only that but they honored these dates year after year after year.

But that was not the end to all of their madness and folly. Humans found things to celebrate for the sake of celebration. Not long ago, in the fall months, Volga had learned that the humans had a three-day long festival in honor of the apple and the many ways in which to consume them. And in the week following, they had another in honor of pumpkins. In the next month, the humans were going to celebrate the snow. The snow, of all things. There was no end to what trivial thing the humans temporarily placed on a high pedestal just to have a reason to gather in large numbers to feast and be merry. And the humans had the gall to become defensive when Volga called them all idiots.

The holiday that the humans were now celebrating was one called Yuletide, and the purpose appeared to be to mark the arrival of winter and to bring levity to these cold, dark months, or that was how Volga understood it. Not that he really understood the point it all. It was all stuff and nonsense to him. And this holiday was the most ridiculous one he had experienced yet. Volga absolutely could not understand how the humans had rose to such dominance in the world when, at the start of the month, Link had come back with a young tree he had cut down and placed it in the corner of his living space. And then he had proceeded to decorate the tree. Volga had thought that Link's experiences of the war had finally taken their toll and had brought a great sickness to his mind, but the boy had assured him that this was their tradition and that all Hylians were doing the same thing.

Volga glared at the tree from across the room yet again. Link had decorated the tree with bulb ornaments that were the colors of rubies, sapphires, and topazes, detailed wooden figures and animals that Link had carved himself, and delicate milky glass snowflakes that had been passed down through his family for several generations. The whole tree was lit up with white taper candles that cast a warm glow on his carvings, and made the bulb ornaments sparkle, and the glass snowflakes twinkle. And topping off this gaudy display of light and color was a giant gold star. Volga thought the whole custom was stupid beyond belief and that dying trees did not belong in one's home. He wanted to torch it with his flames. But the tree made Link immensely happy, and Volga had to admit that there were fleeting moments where the tree was somewhat nice to look at when it was all alight. If he could say nothing else about it, the tree was shiny.

Volga was wearing a snug light gray-blue sweater that he did not need to wear to keep him warm, since he was able to raise his body temperature at will, but Link had assured him that the sweater looked very attractive on him. Link certainly did like running his hands all over the sweater and resting his head against his chest. At least this particular fabric did not irritate neither his flesh nor his scales. Volga had put up with a lot of nonsense of lately just because Link enjoyed this holiday.

This past week alone, Volga had been dragged to no less than six parties, one which had been the Royal Yule Ball. For Link's sake, he had mostly behaved himself, except for glowering throughout Link and the royal whelp's traditional first dance and causing a scene or three when party-goers had made a handful of comments that the Hero and Her Majesty would make a lovely couple. Surprisingly, Volga had not yelled at those people—when it came to those kind of comments, he had found tranquil fury expressed his forceful corrections that may or may not have included a verbal threat just as effectively. And aside from being bored out of his skull at their private parties, he had only grumbled a little. Whether the others had noticed, he neither knew nor cared.

This holiday made no sense to Volga, and there was so much that went into it. Every single day revolved around preparing for the parties between the twenty-first and the twenty-fifth, with the twenty-fifth being the most important day of all. The whole ordeal was absolutely exhausting. There was decorating the house and the tree. There were cards to mail and presents to buy—and despite not understanding the holiday at all, Volga had gotten Link several gifts. However, he had refused to buy presents for other people—Link had bought those and had signed the name tag that it had came from the both of them—but getting Link gifts to make him happy was one of the few aspects of the holiday that Volga agreed with.

By now, however, Volga was sick of seeing red and green everywhere he went. He hated that the colors most associated with the holiday were the same colors of his armor and Link's tunic. He hated the sounds of bells and walking through the cold. He hated sweaters, ugly or not. He was tired of seeing reindeer, and holly, and snowmen. Recently, during the endless feasting that happened at all their parties, Volga had discovered something vile and unforgivable the humans had concocted using eggs. They made them sweet. The humans ruined perfectly-edible eggs by making them sweet, and then they drank the sweet eggs. Sometimes Volga questioned how he was able to love Link so much when he found so much of what all the other humans came up with so repulsive.

And Link… He loved this holiday. He loved every aspect of this holiday. Including the taste of the sweet egg milk. Currently, Link was standing in his open front door listening joyfully to the carolers singing the same songs the last five bands of carolers had sung. Volga was tired of these people interrupting what he had planned to be a cozy night at home. He knew why so many groups were flocking to Link's house—Link always gave every singer ten rupees, along with a treat for every child. At this rate, they were bound to see the whole village show up at his doorstep by midnight. It certainly felt like it.

Finally, the singing was done and Link closed the door for what was surely going to be no more than a moment of peace. It's so cold, he signed, his hands shivering. I could use some warming up. Volga almost smarted off that it was his own fault for letting in so much cold air into the house, but he joined Link on the sofa without so much as a grumble.

Link pulled a blanket over them and snuggled in tightly against him, resting his head on his chest, as Volga raised his body temperature a few degrees. Link made a pleasant sigh as he melted in his gentle heat and settled into every available inch of space between them. Volga smiled in smug victory. He was finally getting what he wanted—Link safe and comfy in his arms.

Volga didn't know how much time had passed before Link showed signs of movement again. It could have been five minutes or half an hour. Link was stroking Volga's chest. He was without a doubt appreciating the fine softness of the sweater he had given him. Miraculously, the carolers seemed to have ended their rounds for the night. Even so, Volga was hard-pressed to believe that Link was getting up to answer the door anytime soon.

I found something in the woods. You're gonna like it, Link assured Volga. Look up.

Volga did what was asked of him and saw a tiny bundle of some plant with rounded leaves and white berries hanging from the ceiling on a long string. "Now what ridiculous human custom is that? And why is it hanging above us?"

It's mistletoe, Link explained. And it's for good luck. It only works when two people are underneath it.

Volga wasn't sure which he found more ridiculous—the mistletoe hanging above them or Link's cheery smile. "Why do humans believe in such stupid superstitions? It is a sprig of a plant. There is no magic."

Of course not. Link moved so that he was turned toward Volga. In fact, he was sitting up and straddling Volga's right leg. There's something we have to do first to make it work.

Annoyed and tired of all these silly Yuletide traditions and just wanting to be close to Link, Volga closed his eyes and breathed out a forceful huff. He reopened his eyes to find Link very close and drawing closer, to his surprise. Link's lips pressed against Volga's. They were still faintly chilled and dried out by the cold air. Volga made sure neither of those were true by the time they parted for a break.

Volga grinned. He wrapped his arms around Link's waist and pulled the rest of him closer against him. He never really liked much space between them. "You're right. I do like this," he said, his voice a deep murmur of pleasure and promise. "Finally, one part of your asinine traditions that I can understand."