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minty-mumbles · 10 months ago

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Shifting Hues (Ch. 5: Pink Blush)

Summary: In all the eras of Hyrule's history Wild has travelled to with the heroes of courage, red is considered a feminine color.

Wild likes the color red.

Or: A fic that follows Wild’s journey to discover themselves

A/N: Hi It's been over a year since I last updated this fic 😂 😭

(Read fic on AO3)

~~~

Wild is glad to be back in their own Hyrule. They had missed the wild and unexplored land. The other eras they’d visited were each beautiful in their own ways, but nothing would ever compare to Wild’s homeland.

But most of all, they had missed the people from his era. Especially Riju and Zel. They miss their other friends too, but the easy acceptance they’d found in Riju and Zel was something that Wild longed for every day.

The heroes exit the latest portal near the end of the Lanayru Promenade, and it takes them less than an hour to reach Kakariko, passing by the great fairy fountain and the shrine that overlooks the village. Wild makes sure to keep a careful eye on Hyrule as they walk through the forest, making sure that the traveler doesn't stray from the path. Wild knows if Hyrule finds his way to the fairy fountain, there’s no way they would make it into town tonight.

They enter the village quietly without any ceremony. Wild can’t help the smile that creeps onto their face as they move further into town. This has always been one of their favorite places in Hyrule. Nothing could beat Hateno, which would always hold a special place in their heart, but Kakariko would always be a close second. It had been the first populated place Wild had stumbled across after they’d come back to life, and the people here had welcomed them with open arms.

By the time the group of heroes got to the village proper, the sun had already begun to set, bathing the whole town in a golden glow. The only person still lingering in the town square beside the guards is a single child sitting next to the communal bonfire that burned around the clock in the town square. Soft flute music drifts toward the group from the child’s direction.

The child’s playing is calming as it echoes around the quiet village. It isn't anything remarkable- only a simple melody- but the notes were clear and even. As the group moves closer, Wild realizes that it’s not just any child playing, but Koko, Dorian’s daughter.

Wild smiles at the sight of the young girl, noting that her playing had improved incredibly since the last time they’d heard her practice.

Wild’s had a soft spot for Koko ever since they’d helped her learn how to cook a few dishes when they’d first come to Kakariko. That had been back at the beginning of their journey when they’d still been relearning how to function. Both Wild and Koko had grown a lot since they’d met, and they’d both taught each other many things, even if Koko’s lessons tended to be less intentional, and more along the lines of social norms that Wild picked up by observing her.

Wild veers off the path they had been taking to Impa’s house, and the rest of the heroes followed him curiously. Koko doesn’t look up as they approach, focusing intently on her music. Wild stands next to her patiently, content to wait until she either stops playing, or recognizes them.

They can tell the moment Koko realizes who’s approached her. Her music, previously calm and steady, squeaks horribly as her even breathing turns into a yelp of excitement. Wild’s ears instinctively pin back under the assault of the piercing noise.

“Link! You’re here! Zel said you might come but she didn’t know for sure.” Koko’s enthusiastic greeting is muffled as she jumps up and shoves her face into their stomach, hugging them tightly. Wild can feel a bright smile creep across their face as they hug her back.

She quickly pulls away, completely ignoring the other heroes, who are now milling around behind Wild aimlessly as they wait for them to be done with their chat. She lets go of the hug, but keeps a tight grip on their hand.

“Are you going to stay for a while? Cottla missed you! Koko missed you too. Koko wants you to teach her more recipes!” Wild smiles. Evidently, the girl hadn’t dropped her endearing habit of referring to herself in the third person yet. It wasn’t anything to be worried about. The Sheikah language didn’t have an “I” pronoun- everyone just referred to themselves by their name. It made sense that Koko, learning Hylian as her second language, would have trouble remembering that.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how long I’m staying this time,” Koko pouts at that, but perks back up when Wild says, “But I’ll make sure to come visit you again before I leave if you’d like.”

She bounces excitedly. “Yes, yes! And teach Koko recipes?”

“And teach you recipes,” Wild agrees. Koko beams impossibly wide at that, and Wild’s heart flutters with joy. They’ve always liked kids. Wild is too rambunctious and travels too often to consider having children of their own- and they’re too young for that anyway- but all the children they’ve met on their journey seemed to love them. It probably helps that Wild’s a little loose-handed when giving out honey candy behind their parents’ backs.

“I don't want to interrupt your practice for too long, I just wanted to ask if Zel was here or not. But it sounds like she is?” They hadn't really expected that. From their conversations with Zel the last time they saw her, they’d half expected her to stay in Hateno until Wild was back from the adventure permanently.

Koko nods. “Yeah! She’s been here for a week. She tells great stories to Koko and Cottla when Daddy is working.” Wild has to suppress laughter at that. Zel had never been a particularly skilled storyteller. The “stories” that she was telling the children were likely simplified versions of popular novels Zel had read before the Calamity. But they weren’t going to ruin Koko’s fun by telling her that.

Instead, they ask, “Do you know where she is right now?”

Koko obliges, pointing up at Impa's house. “Probably up there. She’s been staying there.” Wild squeezes her shoulder in thanks and gently tugs their hand out of her iron grip.

“I need to go talk to her, but I’ll see you again before I leave if I can, alright?”

“Okay! Bye Link!” She chirps in farewell and settles back down where she had been sitting previously, picking her flute back up.

Wild smiles at her, and impulsively says, “My name is actually Wild now.”

“Oh, okay!” Koko nods enthusiastically, taking it in stride. “Bye, Wild!”

Wild turns to finally walk to the big house, and they hear Koko’s playing pick back up. The sound brings a smile to their face.

Wind jogs to walk next to them as the group crosses the town center to the stairs up to Impa's house. “She was cute!” He enthused. “What’s her name?”

“Koko,” Wild replies. “I’m friends with her father.”

“That’s nice,” Legend inserts himself into the conversation from Wild’s other side, but it seems he has another topic in mind as he immediately asks, “Why did you tell her to call you Wild?”

Shards of ice form in the pit of their stomach as dread starts to build inside Wild. Legend continues, apparently oblivious. Wild wonders if the veteran is actually oblivious, or if he can tell Wild is uncomfortable and just doesn’t care. “You don’t need everyone to call you Wild. Other people can still call you Link, you know. We only call each other nicknames because it’d be confusing otherwise.”

Wild takes their time answering, taking a moment to gather their thoughts before they speak. Their name is something that they’ve spent a lot of time thinking about since their conversation with Zel.

It’s not that they hate the name Link. Wild told Zel they didn’t like it, which is partially true, but they really have nothing against the name itself. It’s just that Link is an undeniably masculine name, and Wild wishes they weren’t so undeniably masculine to others. When they introduce themselves as “Link” it feels like somehow they’re only confirming people’s first impressions of them.

But even when Wild puts aside the gendered association of the names, ‘Wild’ is still their favorite of the two. ‘Wild’ is a name given to them by people they know, care for, and love. The name carries more of their heart with it than ‘Link’ ever will. ‘Link’ will only ever be the name given to them by their parents. Their parents, who had likely never known that Wild wasn’t the man they thought they were.

The name “Link” carries too much heartache for Wild to bear.

All these thoughts flit through Wild’s mind in seconds. Wild doesn’t necessarily want to tell Legend all of that though, and they wouldn’t even know where to start if they did, so they eventually settle on telling a partial truth, trying to be nonchalant.

“Well, I like the name Wild. It suits me a lot better than Link ever did, I think. I’ve decided to keep using it even after we part ways, so I might as well start telling people now.”

Legend is stopped from any further questioning by the group’s arrival at the stairs up to Impa’s house. The two guards stationed there cross their spears, stopping them from climbing the steps.

Normally, they would let Wild pass without question. Everyone knows who the hero is, after all, even if Wild didn’t know all the guards by name. But with such a large group trailing after them, Wild isn’t surprised they’re stopped for questioning.

They’re also glad they’re stopped. The guards’ questioning gives Wild a reason to stop their conversation with Legend.

~~~

Their reconciliation with Zel is short and sweet. They can talk more later when they don’t have a whole group of people watching and they have some privacy. Impa, Paya, and the other heroes don’t need to see a long teary reunion. The group came here for a reason, and Wild won’t waste their meeting time with Impa by being distracted by Zel.

After they share a short embrace, Wild kneels on one of the floor pillows set in front of Impa’s seat. Zel takes another, kneeling next to them. They can hear the rest of the heroes follow suit, likely at a loss for what else to do.

Wild winces internally, and silently apologizes to the other heroes for their knees. Wild and Zel had taken the only two available floor pillows, leaving the other heroes to kneel on the bare hardwood flooring for however long this meeting would take. Especially Time and Legend, the two members of the group that had the biggest issues with their joints. Wild would have to put the cookie recipe Malon had given them to good use as an apology.

But respect must be shown to elders, regardless of any potential pain, so Wild does not stand again as they wait impatiently for Impa to address them, carefully restraining their fidgeting.

Impa takes her sweet time getting a good long look at all of them. She eventually speaks, sounding exasperated. “And what have you done this time, hero?”

Wild sputters in protest as chuckles come from those sitting around them. “Me?! I didn’t do anything! It’s not my fault this time.”

Impa hums dubiously, but there's a glimmer of amusement in her eyes that tells them she's only messing with them. “This situation is something that exceeds even my understanding. The goddess’ intentions can be difficult to comprehend, but I believe there must be a good reason for calling you all so far from home.”

The implication that Impa knows who Wild’s companions are does not surprise them, even though they know Zel wouldn’t have told the elder anything without Wild’s permission. Impa always seemed to have knowledge that she shouldn’t. Either that or she was very good at pretending to understand what was going on when she didn't.

Impa lets silence fall over the room again. Wild is too respectful to break it, and the other heroes, thankfully, follow their lead. Wild would consider Impa their friend, but kneeling before her while in her house and seeking her council, they can’t help but fall back on politeness.

As Impa considers the group, Wild lets their eyes wander.

Paya is standing silently at her grandmother’s side, her eyes downturned modestly. Wild hadn’t gotten a chance to say hello to her yet, eager to talk to Impa first. They would have to catch up with her later.

Paya gives no sign that she is confused by her grandmother’s words, simply standing quietly to the side. She looks unassuming, and if Wild didn’t know any better they might assume she was simply Impa’s handmaiden, but they do know better. Paya is Kakariko’s next chieftess and the Champion of their people. She may look timid, but Wild knows she’s anything but. They wonder what she thinks about this situation they’ve found themselves in.

A glance to Wild’s side leaves them suppressing a smile. Zel is also staring at Paya, though not for the same reason Wild had been. Zel is too well-trained to let her expression so on her face but though her expression is stoic, there’s a light flush over her cheeks. Wild files that information away for later.

“Who else knows about this?” Impa eventually asks. Her expression and tone of voice still give no hint to how she feels about any of this. Impa is Wild’s friend but her scrutinizing stare makes even them feel uncomfortable. They can’t imagine how the others must be feeling.

“Riju knows,” Wild says. “We spoke to her briefly the last time we were in this era,“ That finally gets Zel to stop staring at Paya, and turn her head slightly to look at them.

If she hadn’t been to visit the chieftess in a while, she probably wouldn't have known that Riju was aware of Wild’s situation at all. It wouldn’t be the kind of information Riju would have been willing to send to Zel in a letter. Though the mail routes had vastly improved since blood moons started growing increasingly rare, the risk of interception was still too high.

“And the rest of the Champions?“

Wild shakes their head. “Only Riju. We haven't had time to visit the others in person, and it’s not something urgent enough to go out of our way for. There’s nothing they can do to help us. I thought Zel could explain at the next council meeting.”

Zel interrupts. “The only reason I’m in Kakariko at all is to meet up with Paya so we can travel to Zora’s domain together for the next Council meeting. It’s only in a few days.”

Wild can hear Warriors mutter behind them. “That’s good timing.”

Zel continues. “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did, Wild. The meeting wouldn’t be the same without you.” She sighed, a combination of exasperation and fondness. “As much as I love the rest of the Champions, the meetings can get a bit drab. If I must find a positive side to Hyrule being destroyed, it’s that I don’t have to sit through meetings like that all the time. There are only five council meetings a year, and they never last long.”

Wind interrupts. It earns a hissed reprimand from Warriors, which Wind ignores. “Why would Wild go to these council meetings?”

Zel’s lips twitch down, but she’s too well trained to let her emotions rule her face completely. “Why wouldn’t Wild attend? Wild is the Champion of Hylians. You know this, correct?”

There’s a murmur of agreement from the heroes. The group even used ‘Champion’ as a nickname for Wild quite often. Wild only now realizes they had never really explained what that actually meant. If they had to guess, the rest of the heroes had assumed that the duties that came with that title were similar to how the position of champion had operated before the calamity- primarily as a liaison to the ruling Hylian monarchy.

“Then why would he not be allowed into the Council of Champions?”

“I think we were all under the impression that the title of Champion was largely ceremonial.” Warriors offers.

“If you had asked me a hundred years ago I might have agreed with you…” Zel trails off regretfully before continuing. “I’m sure Wild and I can tell you more about his duties as Champion later. For now, we should see if your travel plans will even allow you to accompany us. If not, I will be able to take over your duties, Wild.”

Zel continues to talk, but Wild quietly checks out of the conversation as their mind strays toward the preparations they would need to make before they leave town. They know Zel will cover for them in the conversation if any questions are directed toward them.

Zel had spoken so smoothly that Wild hadn’t even processed what was wrong with her words for a moment. They aren't a he. They aren’t a man. Zel knows that, so it hurts a little to hear her call them that.

But then Wild remembers their audience. They aren’t alone here. Of course Zel would call them a he. They had asked her to keep quiet about what they had told her, so she would honor their wishes, and that includes using the wrong words to talk about them in front of other people.

It still hurt for some reason.

Wild twists their hands together in their lap. They usually habitually refrain from fidgeting like that. Even though they’d lost their memories of standing perfectly still in countless meetings when they had served as the princess’ bodyguard, some habits remained. But sometimes, like now, they just couldn’t be bothered.

When Wild zones back into the conversion, they hear Zel continue to talk. While they hadn’t been paying attention, the conversation had clearly moved on.

“-When it’s the Domain’s turn to host the Council, they often throw a party to celebrate the continuing good relations between the peoples of Hyrule. I’m sure King Dorephan and Prince Sidon wouldn’t be opposed to a few extra Hylians tagging along, especially if he knows you are Wild’s companions. The two of them are rather good friends.”

Wondering how they had even gotten on the topic of the celebrations Sidon liked to throw when the champions were all gathered in the Domain, Wild gently lays a hand on Zel’s shoulder to interrupt her. Sometimes she didn’t realize when she was taking over a conversation, and even after a hundred years and the system of government changing significantly, very few people were willing to interrupt the former princess of Hyrule when she spoke.

Impa and Paya are at least used to it, and watch her with fondness in their eyes, but the rest of the Links look a little bit like they had been run over by a horse.

Zel meets their eyes and flushes when she sees the quiet amusement directed at her. “All that to say,” she says, addressing the rest of the heroes and waving her hands sheepishly. “I’m sure you will be welcome in the Domain. There is no need to worry about anything like that.”

Oh, had that been a concern? Maybe they should have paid a little bit more attention to the conversation.

That particular worry would be something to address at a later time, though.

Impa speaks for the first time in a while, apparently done with letting them talk. “Zel, my dear, why don’t you escort our guests to the inn? I’m sure they could use something to eat and a comfortable bed for the night, and not all of them are needed to explain the strange happenings of late. I will fill Wild in about the meeting while you do so. When you return, the two of you can tell me more about this situation that our dear Champion seems to have found himself in.”

Ah, right. They still haven’t plainly told Impa exactly what was going on. She clearly has an idea, but whether it was accurate was up for debate.

Zel stands, and the other heroes follow her lead, clearly grateful to get off the wood floor. Wild remains seated. Zel nods down to them and rests her hand on their shoulder for a moment, giving it a squeeze.

She spins around, ushering the rest of the heroes out of the house. Before they’re even out the door, Zel is already chattering away excitedly with Sky, no doubt interrogating him about the founding of Hyrule and what his Zelda was like.

The other heroes look a little steamrolled as they file out, but Wild’s come to find that’s a typical reaction to meeting Zel for the first time. She was a rather intense person and could be frazzling to be around with how enthusiastic she is about almost everything.

Gods, Wild loves her.

Impa sighs, but it sounds happy, not like the stressed sighs they’re accustomed to hearing from her. Wild tilts their head. Impa notices their questioning look and says, “She’s certainly relaxed since she first came to stay here after the Calamity was defeated. I barely recognize her as the quiet and reserved princess I knew a hundred years ago. It’s truly been a pleasure to see her so carefree.”

Wild doesn’t respond, only contemplating that for a while in silence. They suppose it’s true. Zel has changed a lot, and mostly for the better. Many people they knew from before the calamity had, including themselves.

“You’re a lot like that too,” Impa continues after a few moments of silence. “You’re not as chatty as she’s become, certainly. It’s not in your nature. But you're much happier now than I ever thought you could be. I’m… grateful to have lived to see it.”

There’s a look in the elder’s eye that says that she has much more to say, but instead she sits up straighter, shaking her head. “Ah, you don’t want to listen to the rambles of an old woman. Now tell me, young hero, about this new quest you’ve been sent on by the goddess.”

~~~

The talk with Impa and Paya takes a long time. Zel finishes settling the other heroes into the inn, and returns shortly. Impa and Paya grill the two of them for details about the black-blooded monsters, the portal, and the shadow for nearly an hour. By the time the two of them had finished asking questions, it was dark out.

Impa offers to ask Dorian to host Wild for the night, but they insist that isn’t necessary. They don’t say that they would be sharing the guest room Zel had been using, but they’re pretty sure Impa got the message.

Impa and Paya bid them both a good night, then disappear to speak to the other elders of the village about the news Wild had brought. Wild trusts them to be discreet about it. The general population finding out about the shadow would only lead to widespread panic.

Wild and Zel don’t head to bed up to their room immediately, instead leaving to sit by the fire outside. It’s a nice place to spend some time relaxing before heading to bed, with the smoke keeping any bugs away.

Koko has long since abandoned her previous position, no doubt being called inside by her father. In fact, aside from the singular guard at the entrance to the Impa’s house, the two of them are alone. Everyone has gone inside to get ready for the night. It leaves the pair to enjoy in blissful silence alone.

Zel takes a seat on one of the simple wooden benches arranged around the fire. WIld heads over to the small pile of firewood stacked nearby and grabs a few logs. They toss another log of the fire, flames licking eagerly at the new offering, then head back to sit next to Zel. They forgo the benches and sit directly on the ground in front of her, leaning back against her legs.

They sigh, forcing any lingering tension from the day to leave their body. Zel’s hand soon finds its way into their hair, as they knew it would. Zel loved playing with their long hair, and would get her hands on it given half a chance.

It takes nearly half an hour of silence and descending darkness before someone breaks the peace.

It’s Zel, and she says, “I’m not a woman right now.”

Wild sits up a little straighter. This would be a conversation that required a little more focus than the doze they’d been in for a while. They’d half been expecting this after the conversation they’d had the last time they’d seen each other. Wild shrugs. “Are you a man, then?”

“No, I’m not a woman or a man. I’m not either.”

Wild nods thoughtfully. Zel tugs on their hair lightly in admonishment, seemingly having moved on to actually braiding their hair and not wanting Wild to mess it up. Wild huffs in indignation at the pull, but Zel hadn’t pulled hard enough to hurt so they didn't say anything.

“So what should I call you?”

Zel is quick to answer. “Call me they, like I call you.”

“And your name?”

Wild can feel them shrug. “Zel is fine. It’s not very feminine. Not like Zelda is. It’s why I decided to go by it in the first place. It still suits me, even when I feel like this.”

Wild agrees, verbally this time, so as not to incur Zel’s hair-tugging wrath. “Got it.”

When Zel finishes with his braid, she snaps a band around the end of it, ensuring it would stay neatly pulled back, at least for a while. She pats their shoulder, letting them know she’s done and they can get up now, but they don’t.

Instead, Wild tilts their head back until their head rests in Zel’s lap, peering up at them. Zel looks back at them, happiness and relief dancing in their eyes. Their posture is lighter, less burdened than it had been before Wild had gone on this latest quest.

They’d missed Zel, but maybe having some time away from each other to figure themselves out had been good for both of them.

~~~

Early morning sun shines through the large open windows of Kakariko’s training hall, built in to allow fresh air in so the building wouldn’t become stifling from dust and the fighters’ body heat. The sunlight illuminates the dust that had been thrown up in the air by their fight.

The two of them are the only ones in the hall right now, so it’s almost peaceful. Usually, it rings with the sound of clashing blades and thwacks of bo staffs hitting each other.

Paya smiles at Wild and congratulates them on a good fight as she leads the way off of the sandy-floored sparring ring.

Her smile doesn’t shake anymore when she looks at them, not like it had back when Wild had first met her. Back then, she had jumped at every little movement they made, and could barely talk to them. Someone had once told Wild that she had a crush on them, but personally, Wild couldn't see it. She had acted more scared of them than anything else. Thankfully, she seems mostly over it- whatever it was- by now.

She still stuttered, but Wild had come to learn that that wasn’t because of them, but that she naturally stuttered when she spoke. It had lessened quite a bit, but never gone away completely.

Absolutely demolishing the famed hero in the sparring ring would make anyone less scared of them, Wild thinks, and Paya’s beaten them more than enough for that.

The last spar with Paya had gone well. Wild’s sweaty and covered in sand, and they're pretty sure they're going to be sore tomorrow, but they're satisfied. They hadn’t won, but they’d lasted a significant time longer than they usually did. Paya stops before they reach the training mats that cover the floor in the front part of the hall. She takes a seat on one of the benches separating the sparring ring and practice mats. Wild sits next to her, gratefully taking the water skin she hands them.

Wild takes a breath, letting the adrenaline drain out of their body as they calm down, letting their muscles relax. They see Paya doing the same, and take the moment to examine her.

Paya doesn’t carry the same worry and tension in her as she used to before Wild helped Zel defeat the Calamity. It’s a trend Wild’s noticed across all of Hyrule. Everyone is more relaxed now, as if their biggest worry has been solved. Wild supposes it has been, with the defeat of the Calamity.

The change is even more pronounced in the Champions and rulers of the different tribes of Hyrule. Some of them have more personal reasons for the change, like Wild and Zel, but for most it’s simply the burden of constant anxiety being lifted. Some of them had never known a world without the Calamity.

Paya was coming close to taking up her Grandmother’s spot as leader of the Sheikah. She had been slowly taking on more and more of Impa’s duties lately, including the title of Champion of the Shiekah people.

The Sheikah being excluded from having a Champion to represent them in the first place had been a mistake neither Zel nor Wild had let stand when the Council of Champions was being formed. There might not be a Divine Beast for the Sheikah Champion to pilot, but their tribe had been the ones to build the machines in the first place. And anyway, they weren’t going to let who got a spot on the council to be determined by what a ten thousand year old civilization thought.

There’s no way they could exclude an entire tribe of people from the council. The Council met several times a year to discuss issues, broker trade deals, and secure alliances. Leaving the Sheikah out of that would be idiotic.

Becoming the Sheikah Champion isn’t the only duty Paya was starting to take on. More and more everyday duties around the village fell onto her shoulders. Impa still served as one of the Village's elders, but Wild wouldn’t be surprised if she named Paya the Sheikah’s leader soon. The twenty-one year-old is more than ready for it, in Wild’s opinion. She would make an excellent leader.

She’s proven herself in battle as well, if the battle scars littering her body indicate anything. Paya currently only wore pants, sturdy shoes, and a tight sarashi for modesty- typical training clothes. Her clothing leaves plenty of her skin exposed, and shows off the numerous scars scattered across her body.

Not all of them are large- some are simple nicks that came with living a working life. But some are more jarring, and tug on Wild’s heartstrings. They hate to think of the pain that must have come with gaining the larger scars.

Wild wears the same clothes. Men usually wear the sarashi around their waist, or go completely shirtless, but Wild is pointedly wearing it around their chest as women do. Technically, they don’t need to wear the sarashi. They didn't have anything that needed to be covered for modesty, after all. But they liked wearing it anyway.

Paya finishes with her water, and meets Wild’s gaze. Wild’s ears perk up. The cool-down period has finished, and now comes the instruction. Paya dives straight in.

“You’re light on your feet, Wild, which can b-be an advantage in s-some fights. But I think you sacrifice your s-stability for speed. It m-makes you a formidable opponent, but one- one who’s easy to get off balance.”

Wild nods, and Paya continues. “When I wen- went for that low swing, I was able to m-make you stumble. I could have taken you to the ground then, but I didn’t want the fight to en- the fight to end so quickly.”

Wild acknowledges her advice, the slightest bit sheepishly. “A lot of people say I’m too flighty for my own good.”

Paya smiles and continues. ”Then you know it’s something you n-need to work on. You n-need to- need to learn when to focus on s-s-speed and when to be more grounded.” She looks at them with a challenge in her eyes, and Wild knows that she’s about to invite him to spar again.

“Zel said I might find you here.”

Warriors’ voice startles Wild, who had been solely focused on the Sheikah in front of them. Paya- who had been facing the opposite direction with a clear view of the open door- doesn’t flinch, so Wild knows she had seen the other hero enter the hall.

After their heart stops pounding from the combination of their leftover adrenaline from the spar and Warriors’ unintentional jumpscare, Wild internally glows with joy at Warriors using Zel instead of Zelda to refer to their friend. Of course, they hadn’t expected anything else from him. Warriors was observant, and would have picked up on everyone calling them Zel, and he would understand better than most the importance and meaning of a name.

When Wild turns to look at him, they see Warriors standing behind them, dressed in only his tunic and pants. He’s missing his iconic scarf, along with his chainmail and armor. He’s holding one of the Bo staff that hung on the racks scattered through the hall. “Are you still up for another round?” He gestures with the staff over toward the center of the fighting ring.

“Which one of us are you talking to?” Wild asks, despite knowing full well that Warriors had been talking to them and not Paya. They smirk internally. It would do Warriors some good to fight an opponent who’s an expert with a weapon that Warriors isn’t as proficient at.

Or at least, Wild’s pretty sure Warriors isn’t very familiar with the Bo staff. They'd never seen him use one before, at any rate. Warriors, along with the other heroes, mostly stuck to swords.

Sure, Sky was extremely efficient with his whip, Hyrule used his magic on the battlefield to great effect, and Legend was surprisingly deadly with his hookshot, but for the most part, the other heroes only use their swords.

Wild likes to get more creative. They have to be more creative. With how easily they tended to break their weapons, it would be foolish of them to rely on only one method of defense. They couldn’t tell you how often they’d found themselves with nothing to defend themself with but a branch, or a farmer’s hoe, or- on one particularly memorable occasion- a cooking ladle.

When Wild had woken from the shrine, they’d discovered they had a passing knowledge of how to use swords, shields, spears, bows, and even boomerangs. The shrine may have stolen their memories, but Wild still had the muscle memories from their time as a knight to guide them as they got used to wielding those weapons again.

However, those weapons are about as far as their ingrained skill has gone. Apparently, the military hadn’t valued other types of weapons enough to train with them. Or at the very least, not often enough to leave Wild with any instincts on how to use them.

Since they first stumbled out of the shrine, Wild has learned how to use tree branches, axes, clubs, sickles, farming tools, and yes, even cooking equipment, as weapons.

Wild has gotten lessons from the Champions on how to use more regional weapons too. They’d learned how to excel with tridents from Sidon, and been taught how to use stone smashers by Yunobo. (Or at least as well as they could, as a Hylian. Hylians typically had a bit of trouble wielding the heavy weapons, and Wild was no exception. They’d given it their best shot, though.) They’d joined Riju’s lessons on the art of sword dancing, and Teba had even shown Wild some Rito techniques with the bow Wild hadn’t known.

Wild wouldn’t claim to be an expert with any of these weapons, except the bow and the sword, but they were at least proficient with them.

Although Wild’s one of the best fights in their era, most of the other heroes could easily beat them easily in a sword fight. Being the best among normal citizens doesn’t make you the best among Hylia’s chosen heroes. The nine of them were on a completely different level of expertise than most Hylians. It’s a perk that came with having the Hero’s Spirit.

When compared with many of the other heroes, Wild’s strength in battle lay in keeping their distance and being creative. ‘Jack of all trades, master of none,’ or so the saying went.

But that’s why they were trying to gain mastery of more kinds of weapons, which included the Bo staff. Paya had been their teacher this morning, but at this point Wild had spared with everyone in Kakariko Village who knew how to use the staff. They’re getting better, but they still lost to Paya more often than not. Wild suspects the only reason they were learning fast enough to win against Paya at all was the Hero’s Spirit they carried. It made it easy to learn new skills related to fighting.

At any rate, Wild was getting better, but they aren’t an expert with the staff. Of the three people in the training hall, that title went to Paya.

Warriors blinks at Wild in confusion, before turning his gaze toward Paya. He smiles at her, and although he does let his gaze rake up and down her form, he keeps any comments about her state of undress to himself. Wild’s glad for that. The Sheikah are a lot more casual about showing skin around the opposite gender than Hylains were, at least in certain contexts, like bathing, fighting, and sparring. Wild doesn’t want this to get awkward, and Warriors had a habit of sticking his foot in his mouth.

“Well, ladies first, of course.” Warriors winks at Paya, gesturing for her to step into the sparring area with him.

For once, Wild doesn’t feel any irritation at being so clearly categorized as a man. Even if Warriors thought Wild was a woman, they aren’t sure he’d call Wild a lady. They think that they’re a bit too feral for that particular title. Paya was much better suited to being called a lady. She was much more refined than Wild ever would be, woman or not.

#mint's fanfiction #mint's art #lu wild #linked universe #lgbtq+#trans character #lu warriors #lu legend #lu wind #lu flora #botw paya #botw impa #botw koko

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skyloftian-nutcase · 11 months ago

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Blood of the Hero Ch 15 (Link’s parents play BotW)

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

i.e. Link's parents play BotW while protecting their boy and they are ready to take on Ganon himself if they have to.

Chapter 15: Fallen Knight - The Chase

Tilieth knew Abel didn’t really pray anymore.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t prayed at all since the Calamity. She’d found him speaking softly to Hylia a mere fortnight before the Shrine of Resurrection had been damaged. She’d heard his voice quiver as he’d asked to see his son again. She remembered her own throat tightening up listening to it.

But it had been a difficult night. It had been a holiday they’d used to celebrate. Abel usually refused to pray unless at the breaking point.

Tilieth was always sad to see it.

How was it that her dear husband couldn’t understand that the goddesses didn’t interfere as he thought they did? The ancient goddesses created the world, leaving its care to Hylia. And Hylia would not force people to do anything they didn’t want to. She acted through others, through their choices to help. Abel seemed convinced that she could have just snapped her divine fingers and just fixed everything, but that wasn’t how it worked.

But in either case, Tilieth knew that when her husband said he just wanted to pray, it was a blatant lie. Abel was up to something.

She lay in bed for a long time, watching Link sleep peacefully. She listened, wondering what exactly her husband was doing. He’d reassured her gently and lovingly and lied to her face. She’d decided not to confront him immediately, waiting to see, waiting to catch him in the act so he couldn’t deny it. She didn’t want to argue. They had enough going on in their lives; she didn’t need to add an argument between them to it. She knew Abel was trying not to cause friction, either, but…

What are you doing, Abel?

She heard a horse. Ama, probably. So he was going somewhere.

Tilieth remembered the last time Abel had been off somewhere in the night and hadn’t told her. He’d gotten hurt. He might have almost gotten killed if it hadn’t been for Sheik.

She wasn’t letting that happen this time. It was time to talk sense into her husband.

Rising, she tucked Link in a little better, kissing his head softly. He would be safe here. She felt confident in that, at least. She crept outside, heading to Epona, who was grazing peacefully.

“Sorry, old girl,” she apologized as the horse perked up, ears pointing forward as she watched her approach. “We have an idiot to rescue, I’m afraid.”

Epona huffed out a breath as if amused. Tilieth chuckled at it before putting the saddle on her. It didn’t take long to finish gearing her up, and Tilieth was soon out in the open field. She gazed up at the sky a moment, distracted by the array of stars, admiring the beauty of it, before she looked back down, focusing. Abel couldn’t have gotten too far ahead, and she had a good vantage point from the top of this hill.

She could hear it in the distance. A horse cantering. Tilieth squinted, trying to figure out where Abel had snuck off to. She had a sudden, insanely strong sense of déjà vu, remembering years ago when she’d have to search for her children when they snuck out in the night.

Honestly, and Abel claimed they got all their mischievous tendencies from her.

The melancholy that came with the memory pulled at her heart a little, but she didn’t have time to focus on it. Instead, she swallowed and held on to her resolve, making Epona walk forward a little as she finally caught sight of something.

She traced the movement a while, recognizing that its rhythmic motions matched the sound of the horse hooves she was hearing. That had to be him. He was down at the bottom of the hill and around the corner, heading down a different trail, and—

Wait a second. That was Eagus Bridge, wasn’t it?

He’s going to Central Hyrule?! Is he insane?!

Tilieth froze up instantly. Central Hyrule was… well, she didn’t know! Neither of them knew what dangers awaited there! What was he thinking?! She recalled how barren it had looked yesterday, how nothing had grown back yet – if nothing was growing, that implied something was still there preventing it, right?

Panic seized her body. She couldn’t move for a moment, couldn’t urge Epona ahead, couldn’t think. But as terrified as she was of what dangers there might be, she was even more terrified of the fact that Abel was heading into it. She caught her breath, she gave a command and Epona was racing—she’d always been a fast horse—and the wind was blowing through her hair, and it was starting to rain, splashing clarity into her face like a slap.

It didn’t take long to reach the point of no return. She abruptly pulled back on the reins.

Tilieth stared ahead at the bridge. Epona waited patiently as she listened to her heart race, as her thoughts spun in circles dizzyingly, worries whittling away at her sanity and resolve.

There could be guardians!

But Abel was there.

There could be monsters!

But Abel was there.

Abel had always been the strong one between the two of them. Tilieth knew that. She’d pulled her weight as best she could on the plateau, hunting on occasion, learning to use a bow. But she knew she was useless against formidable foes.

She should wait for him to return.

No! Tilieth shook her head, squeezing tightly on Epona’s reins. She wouldn’t let her husband get himself hurt. He was exhausted, and he was stressed, and he wasn’t thinking straight.

Abel always protected her. It was her turn to protect him.

Glaring into the darkness, Tilieth spurred Epona forward as thunder crashed overhead. Despite her resolve, she trembled from head to toe, but she would not stop.

I can do this. Abel needs me.

The rain was growing heavier, curtains cascading from the sky, making it difficult to see anything at all. Tilieth stayed alert, downright skittish, really, when she heard a horse whinny up ahead. Breathless, she urged Epona to move, feeling entirely too exposed.

And then she saw them.

Abel was frantic, and he—he and Ama were on the ground! Tilieth leapt off Epona, rushing towards them, and called out to her husband, when—

When… what?

Rain splashed her face. She shivered. Her stomach churned. Her head pounded.

Heavy breaths, screaming, sobs.

Worried voices, warmth, softness.

“She’ll be alright, Sir Abel, I promise. She just needs a potion when she wakes up.”

When she woke up? But she was awake, right?

Good heavens, why did her head hurt so much?

Tilieth slowly opened her eyes, squinting and grimacing as the candlelight was entirely too much. She vaguely made out fuzzy shapes, trying to focus on anything. She was in a bed; she registered that much. But how? Wasn’t she somewhere else? She thought she’d been somewhere else.

Outside. She’d been outside, right?

There were people here. Two or three, from what she could tell. One stood in the distance, watching. Another paced the length of the room. Wait, was there a third? Maybe not. It was probably the pacing one that caught her attention.

Why had she been outside?

Tilieth shifted a little, moaning as her head throbbed. The pacing person stopped immediately before practically materializing beside her in an instant.

“Til,” a shaky voice whispered, and Tilieth recognized it in a heartbeat. Her husband’s features came into focus as he hovered over her, eyes bloodshot, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, soaking wet. He practically fell onto the bed where she was, pulling her into a hug, trembling.

Tilieth… didn’t know what to do with this turn of events. Clearly something was wrong, right? What was wrong? “Abel…?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled in her shoulder, his hug nearly painful with how tight it was. It made her head hurt even more. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

Why was he apologizing? What was— “Is Link okay?”

Abel pulled away a little, breath coming in shallow rasps, and to her alarm she saw he was on the verge of tears. “Link’s fine. He’s fine. I promise.”

Then why was he…?

Before Tilieth could get another word out, Abel was shoving a bottle into her face. “Drink this.”

She listened, wondering what it was she was drinking. It had a syrupy flavor and consistency with a strangely bitter aftertaste, and she made a somewhat disgusted face after swallowing it. Her headache dulled, though, and she had enough energy in her now to cough and protest, “Oh, honey, that was disgusting, what did you give me?”

Abel’s face lit up a little with relief, and he pulled her into another bone crushing hug. Tilieth was infinitely more aware of the fact that he was drenched, how he shivered, how he’d—

Been outside too. They’d both been—

Central Hyrule. They’d been in Central Hyrule! What had happened? Had a monster attacked?

“What happened?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her husband. Her body was sluggish to respond, and it was frustrating, but she didn’t feel dizzy or nauseous now, and her vision had cleared up. Behind Abel, she could see the Sheikah healer, Kollin, standing in the entranceway to wherever they were.

Oh! The inn! That was where they were. She looked to her right, and sure enough, Link was sleeping beside them in the next bed over. She could hear the rainfall on the thatched roof. Behind Kollin, Lady Impa watched them as well.

She tried to piece together what really had happened. Surely… wait, Abel and his horse had been on the ground! She remembered that. There had to have been some kind of attack. She must have gotten her head hit at some point.

“Oh, honey,” she said softly, holding her husband as much as she could. Abel hadn’t spoken to explain anything, and that nearly scared her just as much as not knowing. “Tell me what happened.”

Slowly, Abel pulled away, watching her. He no longer looked on the verge of tears. Some strange resolve was in his eyes now, a fire of conviction that steadily turned him to stone. He leaned in, kissing her on the lips with a tenderness she hadn’t felt from him in a while, and then he pulled away, rising. “Get some sleep, love.”

Tilieth really would rather just know how in the world they’d ended up back in Kakariko, but she supposed it could wait until morning. She did still feel exhausted. Sighing, she pat the bed, trying to give him a smile. “Will you join me?”

Her husband was silent, shadows casting over his face. He looked so far away all of a sudden. “Later, Til.”

A pang of annoyance sparked within her, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Her husband could be so blasted stubborn sometimes. She’d get on his case later. In the morning. When she wasn’t quite so… tired…

Tilieth slipped into sleep faster than she anticipated, and the world faded around her.

XXX

Impa watched Sir Abel with heaviness and dread in her heart.

The night had been eventful enough. The man had come into the village at a full canter on his horse, calling for help. Impa had responded immediately, alongside many others, and she’d retrieved Kollin to assist once they’d realized Tilieth had been hurt. When Impa had asked what had happened, the knight was dismissive at every turn.

It wouldn’t have bothered Impa so much if it weren’t for the look on his face.

It had been ten years. Impa had seen her people suffer through the aftereffects of the Calamity. She had suffered through it. She’d been the royal advisor back then, Zelda’s best friend and confidante, a capable warrior but always on the sidelines. When everything had burned, her parents had died, Purah had left the village, her friends had been brutally murdered, and her dearest friend had to hold back horrors unimaginable by herself with the promise of hope that no one had any way of knowing would come. Impa had to cope with the unimaginable, and she had no way of knowing how to do so.

Impa had waited with anticipation for Link’s arrival for days, weeks, months, despite Robbie’s words predicting that it would take approximately fifty years (because there was no way that was true, there was no way they would have to wait that long, there was no way Zelda could hold out that long). By the fifth year, she’d realized this was going to take far longer than she’d initially anticipated.

It had been strange, to be in such a holding pattern, to wait for a continuation of a horrific event, before realizing that she had to close that chapter of her life.

She had a sinking suspicion Sir Abel had not yet done so. She could hardly blame him, but…

She’d seen the trembling hands before, the jumpiness, the lack of trust. Those who had survived the massacre were all scarred from its wounds.

Sir Abel was not doing well. But he would not listen to her, no matter what kind of argument she might throw at him. Impa had dealt with his son, understood the kind of quiet resolve her friend had, and was quickly observing who he had gotten it from.

The knight was pacing Impa’s home. It was no longer the frantic, worried steps he’d had earlier before his wife had awoken and drank some potion. This was slower, contemplative, brooding, heavy and dangerous.

Impa glanced to the side as Kollin watched them both with concern. Her fiancé was always a bit of a worrier. She smiled and nodded towards the door.

The healer sighed and nodded. “I’m going to retrieve some more potions for you wife. She should be fine with some rest – one more elixir will fix her right up in the morning, I think.”

Sir Abel looked at him briefly, eyes dull, and nodded.

Impa shuffled uncertainly, wondering how to proceed. She’d seen the captain of the royal guard prior to the Calamity, and it was still terrifyingly striking how different he was now. Although she and the royal knight had never been particularly close, she at least knew him, she’d seen the gentle way he’d watch his son, the neutral stoicism he’d bear, the strength yet warmth he’d convey in his posture, impervious to pain or fear or worry.

The broken, cold, paranoid survivor before her was not the same man, and she didn’t know how to reach him.

She didn’t even know what she should say if she could. She wanted to reassure him that everything would be fine, but her own heart filled with worry as well. She had to have faith that Hylia would ensure everything worked out – when the two had carried her mutilated friend, still so broken and weak, into her village, she’d nearly fallen apart.

The Shrine of Resurrection is broken. The Shrine was their one hope, yet here these two had found a new avenue to pursue, maintaining the light that would join Zelda in defeating Ganon. But the Shrine wasn’t the only thing that was broken in Link’s life, clearly, and the more Sir Abel paced, the more worried Impa became.

She needed this tension to release. Why had the knight chosen to come to her as if to speak with her, and then done this instead?

“Sir Abel,” she started uncertainly, speaking softly as if to a cornered animal. “I know you’re worried—”

“I need your word,” Sir Abel interrupted, finally pausing, dark eyes boring into her soul. They were Link’s eyes, but their blue was like the sea before a storm.

“M-my… my word?”

“You were friends with the princess,” the knight continued, facing her fully, and the air felt heavier all of a sudden. Impa felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, rather like it did just before a fight. She tried to look as nonthreatening as possible, not wanting to provoke anything. Of all her warriors, she’d never seen one quite as on edge as him. “You traveled with Link. You’re a Sheikah.”

“Yes,” she agreed slowly. “My loyalty is absolute, good knight. I assure you.”

Why was he doing this line of questioning? His lack of trust from the past few days had never been this… she didn’t even know how to describe it. Something was different about the man, something desperate and wild. What had happened out there?

“That loyalty,” Sir Abel continued. “How far does it extend? I need your word…”

“We’ve done nothing that would imply we would hurt Link,” Impa tried to help him parse out the logic. “Link’s my friend.”

“And his mother?” Sir Abel questioned, his voice breaking a moment, face darkening.

What? Had a Sheikah hurt Tilieth? “I promise, she’s safe here. You all are.”

“Give me your word,” Sir Abel growled.

“I swear on my honor as a Sheikah,” Impa said easily, wondering if this was what was causing his behavior. “But please, if one of my people did this, tell me. I’ll ensure there’s justice, Sir Abel. I promise you’re all safe here.”

The knight swallowed, breath suddenly shaky, eyes flicking down to the floor and unable to look at her anymore.

So… not a Sheikah, then? Or…? What was happening?

“Promise me you’ll protect her,” he finally said quietly, fists clenching.

Impa felt the dread grow heavier in her chest. “Sir Abel… I… I swear on my parents’ graves, on my life that she is safe. Please… trust that she and your son are going to be okay. What is the matter?”

Sir Abel was silent, his breathing measured but heavy, loud enough to be heard over the rain on the roof.

Finally, he looked her in the eye once more, dark heaviness dissipating, frozen over by a cold, impenetrable resolve. “I have a favor to ask of you, Lady Impa.”

The rain grew heavier. Thunder rumbled as lightning tore across the sky. The door to the chief’s home slid open some time later, revealing the battered former knight as he purposefully walked down the stairs towards his black mare. He pet the horse a little, whispering an apology to her for all the trouble he’d been putting her through, geared up with a soldier’s sword and shield, and then mounted the saddle.

Kakariko was so quiet in the middle of this cold, stormy night. Abel shivered in the rain, glancing at the inn. Tightening the climber’s bandana he was wearing, he willed all his love towards the small building, body trembling, heart a pile of ash.

Nudging Ama’s sides with his feet, he guided the horse out of the village as thunder roared, covering the sounds of the horse’s hooves. They headed north, disappearing into the curtains of rain, slow and steady, and the sad eyes of the knight hardened, heart turning to stone, determination and self-loathing drowning him more than any downpour ever could.

XXX

Tilieth felt like she must have been sleeping for a year with how sluggish her body was.

The daylight was barely spilling indoors as she fluttered her eyes open blearily. She was on her side, and the first thing she saw was a red elixir on the nightstand, and just beyond that, Link sleeping peacefully on the bed beside her.

Smiling sleepily, Tilieth reached for her baby boy, but she couldn’t quite get to him. Sighing a little, she shuffled towards the edge of the bed, too tired to want to get up but still wanting to reach him. Tilieth stretched farther, head half resting on the nightstand to give her more distance, and her fingers finally tickled Link’s ear.

Her son sniffled, nose scrunching, and she giggled at it. He didn’t quite wake up, but it was still wonderful to see him reacting. Yawning, Tilieth twisted in the blankets, facing the other way to see—

An empty bed.

Tilieth blinked, confused a moment, listening to crickets and birds compete for song as night and day intermingled at dawn.

And then she remembered last night.

Or, well, most of it. She remembered looking for Abel, she remembered seeing him down on the ground alongside Ama, she remembered waking up in this bed injured and Abel being on the verge of a breakdown. Based on the elixir on the table, she assumed she… ah, that must have been what he made her drink last night?

Great heavens, that stuff tasted horrible. She’d need to flavor it some way for poor Link.

But never mind that, where was Abel? She’d never gotten the full story out of him, and he’d said he’d sleep!

Groaning a little, Tilieth tried to wiggle out of the blanket, grumbling as she got tangled in it instead. Huffing, she threw her head back into her pillow in exasperation and then winced. Maybe she shouldn’t do that.

Tilieth moved slowly this time, pulling the blanket here, untwisting it there, until she was finally detangled and standing up. The world tilted a little, but not too terribly, and Tilieth rubbed her face tiredly as her body struggled to keep up. She was a little thankful she couldn’t remember whatever fight she and Abel must have endured that ended with her receiving such a head injury.

But then she remembered Abel’s expression, and she suddenly wondered if she really should feel that way.

Tilieth shuffled towards the entrance when the innkeeper, an elderly woman named Liyah, walked hesitantly towards her. “Hello, dear. That elixir on the nightstand is for you.”

Glancing back at the nightstand, Tilieth bit the inside of her cheek, not particularly interested in tasting that awful concoction again. But given how she felt, she supposed it was reasonable. She walked over to it, sitting on the bed to brace herself as she knocked back the liquid, coughing a little as it went down.

The world sharpened into a clarity so intense it almost made her head hurt. Warmth filled her all the way to her fingertips, and she felt a little more energized. She wondered if Link felt any of this when they gave him some the other day.

Details she hadn’t noticed before became easily apparent. She was wearing something different from her usual attire, a robe wrapped around her like the Sheikah wore, except overly simple in its design, beige in color with no variation in the collar. Her clothes and traveling pouch were missing.

“Have you seen my husband?” she asked the innkeeper.

“I’m afraid not,” the woman answered. “He hasn’t been here since you fell back asleep.”

Of course he hasn’t. Tilieth sighed heavily, a different kind of exhaustion pulling at her. She wished her husband would just listen to her and rest.

Bracing herself for a potentially unpleasant confrontation, Tilieth rose, kissed Link with a promise to feed him breakfast and clean him up soon, and went to seek out the Sheikah chief.

When she recognized that the world was bathed in pale light, she thought it might have been too early to pay a visit to the young woman. But Lady Impa herself was outside, sitting cross legged in front of the statue of Hylia.

Tilieth hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her prayer. Instead, she sat a little bit behind her, saying a few prayers of her own.

Good morning, she greeted a little informally, smiling, before she continued, Oh great goddess, I… I want to thank you. Thank you for taking care of Link, for helping him heal. Thank you for getting us to Kakariko. Thank you for helping me and Abel escape whatever happened last night. Please… I know Abel isn’t… isn’t really talking to you much, but… please look out for him. Please continue to look out for Link and help him heal. Please give me the patience, the energy, the words to get through to Abel so he can rest.

Tilieth took a deep breath, letting the world around her relax her and quiet her mind. She couldn’t quite achieve it, never really able to pray too well, but she felt a little more at peace nonetheless. Her eyes drifted to the water, watching it play and reflect the light as the sun steadily climbed in the sky. Perhaps she should just make some breakfast and bathe Link before bothering Impa – maybe she’d run into Abel in that time anyway.

Resolving herself to the matter, Tilieth rose, leaving Lady Impa to her prayers, when the Sheikah turned a little, just noticing her.

“Tilieth,” she called, standing, face a little worried.

Tilieth smiled at the kind woman. “I’m okay. I’m feeling much better this morning. I was just wondering… do you know where my husband is? Or my things?”

“Your clothes were being washed from the blood,” Lady Impa explained. “I apologize they haven’t been returned to you in time. I believe your pouch is with the Sheikah slate – Sir Abel left them near Link.”

Well, Tilieth supposed that explained a few things. She hadn’t searched too hard beside Link. But still… “And my husband?”

Lady Impa shifted uncomfortably, and the peace Tilieth had been feeling started to fade.

“He… has a message for you,” the Sheikah chief said slowly. “He said you were right. About splitting up. He asked me to protect you while he goes to Akkala. He said he was going to talk to my sister about the slate.”

Tilieth stared. He… he what?

He left?

But—what had happened to—they were going to go to the—and Link—he just—what?!

This wasn’t… this wasn’t just him agreeing to her plan, something was—something was wrong, something was terribly wrong, Abel had been so against this plan!

“What happened?” she asked, she demanded, she choked out of the horror and shock and fear that was squeezing her lungs. “What happened last night?”

Lady Impa’s expression grew more somber, more worried. “I… don’t honestly know. He never explained.”

Tilieth swallowed thickly, trying to think it through. Whatever it was, Abel blamed himself. She knew that. She knew that. There was no way the man would do something so completely—he—what—

“I need my clothes,” Tilieth said. “I need them now.”

Lady Impa hesitated a moment, and Tilieth frantically insisted, “I said now! Please! I need them!”

Urgency and terror were filling her and making the world spin. As the Sheikah complied, Tilieth dashed back to the inn, nearly sending the innkeeper into the ceiling with fright as she slammed the door open. Link had the Sheikah slate tucked under his arm in the blankets, alongside Tilieth’s pouch. She grabbed the slate immediately, looking at the map, desperate to see what route Abel might be taking.

How much headway had he gotten? When did he leave? Had he rested at all? What had happened? What had happened?

“Your clothes,” Lady Impa announced as she held them out, standing just behind her. Tilieth quickly rushed to the corner where a privacy screen was and changed, hastened out, slate in hand, and then froze, looking at Link.

He needed to eat. He needed to be cleaned. He needed to be cared for. She trusted the Sheikah, but she couldn’t ask everything of them, and they didn’t know what to do with him.

But Abel—

Tilieth reached into her pouch, looking for whatever leftover broth she had, and quickly shook Link. “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry, you’re going to have to endure a little longer without freshening up, but eat quickly, okay? I have to find your papa.”

Link drank, not seeming to care, as per usual, but once she laid him back down to rest, he continued to stare off at nothing, looking tired but not nodding off. She watched him a moment, a little caught off guard. Was he uncomfortable? He’d hardly noticed anything about his body since the initial shrines on the plateau, whether it was his wounds, the rashes from the harness, the jostling from going everywhere, any bodily needs he might have… anything.

Tilieth snapped her fingers in his face. Link blinked, but he didn’t really flinch from it.

When he still didn’t fall asleep, Tilieth hesitantly tried for more broth. He drank for a little while before starting to choke on it a little bit, and she immediately stopped.

Why was he…? She didn’t know. But she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please be okay,” she pleaded, kissing him on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Hopefully with your father.”

Hopefully. Oh goddess, Abel, what have you done?

Reaching for the slate, Tilieth looked at the map. She’d never been to the Akkala Province, but she knew it was up north, somewhere near Death Mountain. Based on the routes they’d already taken, the shrines they’d been to…

That shrine near Zora’s Domain. That would be her best bet. But what if he hadn’t gotten that far? What then?

Well. It was better to overshoot than undershoot, she supposed.

Wait! The towers! She could probably try to find him with the scope feature Impa had talked about!

With that in mind the only tower that was feasible for such a use was the Lanayru Tower.

Lady Impa stared. “What are you, HEY WAIT—”

Tilieth pressed on the screen, feeling the magic of the slate encircle her, but Lady Impa yelped, reaching out to grab her. Tilieth squealed in response, and both women nearly fell over as they were encased in light. The lightness of the magic carried them before they could actually topple over, plopping them on the hard, cold stone of Sheikah design.

The women groaned, trying to get their bearings, when cool water plopped on Tilieth’s head, startling her. It was drizzling here, but as she scrambled towards the edge, she found that her view wasn’t all that obscured.

“What just—where are—” Lady Impa stammered, looking around in bewilderment and fright.

“Why did you grab me?” Tilieth asked as she looked around, hands shakily maneuvering the slate so she could figure out how to use its scope.

“I swore to Sir Abel I’d protect you,” Lady Impa pointed out, looking around, disoriented. “I can’t do that if you try to disappear into thin air! Where even are we?”

“Lanayru Tower,” Tilieth answered quickly, only half paying attention. “How do you get this slate to—”

Lady Impa snatched it, clicking something, and suddenly the slate showed the world around it with heightened intensity and clarity, zooming in on different points. “I’m assuming we’re looking for Sir Abel?”

Tilieth squinted through the drizzle before looking at the slate as the two women huddled beside each other to stare at it. “Yes. I have to find him.”

Lady Impa sighed heavily.

“He can’t have gotten too far, right?” Tilieth wondered aloud, tracing the path from what she could see of the mountains around Kakariko. The road disappeared occasionally, but for the most part she could see nearly all of it. “When did he leave?”

“During the night. He…” Lady Impa shuffled hesitantly. “He definitely didn’t look well. But I knew I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry, Tilieth.”

Tilieth bit her lip, anxiety eating her alive. Her worry for her husband increased tenfold. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already suspected, but…

Please be okay, Abel. Please be okay.

She felt so incredibly alone all of a sudden. She was thankful Lady Impa had tagged along.

As Tilieth looked through the scope, she felt her heart leap to her throat.

There was a person! There was a person on a black horse at a destroyed bridge, staring at the river, trying to find a way to cross.

“Abel,” she whispered before looking frantically at the slate, trying to find a point that was closer to his current location. As she did so, she could vaguely see the figure turn his steed and start to canter away. No, no, no no no no!

“With Thims Bridge gone, he’ll probably try to head farther north,” Lady Impa said breathlessly, trying to track his progress as well. “Let me see—why is the rest of it blank?”

“We haven’t mapped it out!” Tilieth said frantically. “What if we lose him?!”

“I don’t remember exactly where the next crossing is, but I’m pretty sure it’s close to the castle,” the Sheikah chief noted anxiously. “He—Sir Abel knows that, right?”

The castle?!

“Wait, wait, he’s coming back,” Lady Impa interrupted her panicked thoughts, eyes wide and both women nearly headbutted each other to look through the scope. Abel had indeed turned around, seeming to come to the same conclusion, and was instead heading for a set of ruins that were overrun by monsters.

“We have to help him!” Lady Impa immediately said.

“Sheh Rata Shrine,” Tilieth pointed to it. “It’s close enough. Hold on!”

The pair disappeared in streams of light once more.

Meanwhile, in Moor Garrison, Abel circled the area, fire in his blood as he snarled at the horde of monsters that had taken residence in his fallen brothers-in-arms’ home. He eliminated one easily by letting Ama knock it over before he stabbed it. Then he leapt off his horse, climbing the ruined wall to peek over and aim a bomb arrow at the two archers who were keeping lookout. The explosion caught the attention of the rest of the monsters, and Abel descended upon them from above, slamming his sword down on them. There were four in total, though only three had managed to reach him quite yet, allowing him to dodge and weave around them well enough. His shield took a few hits, knocking him against the wall, but he ignored the screaming of his mind and muscles, instead letting all of his anger broil over and fuel him.

Abel swiped out just as a bokoblin tried to aim for his head, leaving an opening, and he killed it quickly. The other two fell in succession, though his sword broke clean in half with the final blow. He scrambled to switch weapons as the last bokoblin came running into sight, and the guardian sword was the only other one he had brought with him.

The beast fell in one blow.

Abel glanced at the bluish blade, huffing. He supposed it certainly was useful. His stomach twisted a little as he stared at it too long, its hue hauntingly familiar, and he sheathed it, exiting the structure and picking up what arrows and weapons he could find as he whistled for Ama. He heard her running up from behind him, and he glanced back to see her gaining ground quickly. Just as she got within reach, he tore across her path, hand on her chest to try to avoid startling her. He traced his hand alongside her until it gripped her saddle, and the moment of the sharp turn in conjunction with the horse’s speed allowed Abel to leap into the air and onto her back seamlessly.

They moved expediently. He knew the next crossover point he could take that didn’t require a bridge.

Well. It did later. But he remembered seeing the structures from Lanayru Tower. A monster encampment of its own making was tolerable enough. He just had to tear through it while he still had the strength to do so. Staying up for two nights hadn’t done him many favors, after all.

But he was determined. He would get to Akkala quickly. He would accomplish this. And he prayed Tilieth would resolve to go to the Gerudo Desert like she’d originally planned so that he wouldn’t be anywhere near her.

How could he be anywhere near her? After what he’d—what he’d—

Abel bit his tongue, urging Ama to run faster. She couldn’t go fast enough. He had to move. Killing more beasts would help.

A fair distance behind the former knight and his steed light coalesced into two figures, and Tilieth and Impa looked around wildly in search of the man.

“ABEL!” Tilieth yelled as she caught sight of him, rushing ahead. Lady Impa gasped and hurried to keep up, managing to catch up to her companion quickly as the two attempted to call the man’s attention.

She’d never run so fast in her life. She couldn’t even call out to her husband anymore with as breathless as she was, but she refused to slow down. She had to reach him.

She had to reach him.

The blood rushed through Abel’s ears. His breathing was in tandem with Ama’s, both panting with exertion, readying for battle.

Tilieth felt her body starting to give out. She growled, pushing harder, until she felt like her chest would burst if she kept going.

Abel drew his sword once more as Ama crossed the haphazard bridge into the monster camp. Tilieth fell to the ground, Lady Impa dropping on one knee at her side to check on her.

She couldn’t get to him.

Abel focused intently, blind and deaf to everything outside of the battle. But when his first quarry leapt out at him, his heart skipped a beat.

It was a Hylian.

The horror of the last twenty-four hours screamed through his head for an instant before he followed through on the move automatically. The Hylian was clearly moving to attack. His guardian blade pierced through the man’s defenses quickly.

Tilieth screamed in horror from the shore. Lady Impa stood quickly, drawing her kodachi to protect her charge. More Hylians appeared out of different hiding places in the encampment, bearing monster and Hyrulian weapons alike, as well as strange foreign blades that looked vaguely similar to Impa’s. Tilieth covered her mouth quickly to stop herself gasping, horrified as her husband moved to defend himself from the sudden ambush.

“Stay out of sight,” Impa hissed, running ahead to assist him. Tilieth didn’t dare protest, heart racing.

There were more enemies than Abel could count. Ama lended him some protection, but it put her at risk, and he had no armor for her. She kicked when one bandit got too close, sending him flying into the water. Abel leapt off her saddle at that point, letting her buck more without throwing him off balance. There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver on these rickety pontoon bridges, and Abel nearly got knocked into the water from a blocked blow. He dug his sword into another enemy, ignoring the warmth of the blood that saturated his gloves, and kicked yet another away to create some distance. Ama neighed in distress, running a few paces ahead to get away from the pandemonium, distracting the former knight.

Maybe he wasn’t distracted from her. Maybe the sleep deprivation was just catching up. Either way, he moved too slowly, and next thing he knew fire seared through his left shoulder as one of the Hylians managed to sink his spear into him. Abel grabbed the handle of the spear quickly, jerking it out of the man’s grip and kicking him back. He moved his left arm to try and grip the wooden handle so he could chop most of it off with his sword, preventing it from impeding him, but he could hardly move his arm. He yelled out in pain instead, stumbling back, feeling his world spin as his left arm tingled and burned.

The Hylians parted ways a little, strangely, until Abel saw the cause of the ruckus. A Sheikah warrior—Lady Impa—charged in, knives at the ready, already bloodied from taking on an unseen opponent.

What was—but Tilieth—

Abel burst into motion quickly, frantic now, mind and body both reaching their limits as he fought desperately.

Tilieth watched, terrified, hiding behind some trees, praying over and over and over, begging for this to end.

The remainder of the Hylians fell or fled, but before there could be any kind of reprieve in the fighting, Abel swiped his sword threateningly towards Impa, making her yelp and leap back.

“You promised,” he hissed, stumbling, face flushed with both fury and anguish, a broken trust and hopeless, desperate, terrifying energy in his eyes. “You promised.”

“She’s safe, she’s safe!” Impa insisted.

Tilieth heard the words carry across the bridges, and she gasped, running in. “Abel!”

The world froze between the couple as they took the sight of each other in.

Abel felt indescribable pain and relief mixing in a dizzying whirlwind. Seeing Impa here alone had scared him enough, but seeing Tilieth in the midst of this bloodshed, so soon after she’d—after he’d—he couldn’t even finish the thought, the panic of last night still so present within him that seeing her made him nearly stumble backwards and fall into the water. Tilieth looked completely winded, beautiful curls a frizzy mess, brown eyes glassy, sweat stains saturating through her tunic. Abel ached to comfort her, and his arm twitched a moment, but his shoulder hurt so damn much, and he saw blood leaking around where the spear had entered, pulsating a little. His wife shouldn’t be here, this place was dangerous, he was dangerous, he couldn’t be trusted for anything with her or Link, he was terrified.

Tilieth felt utterly out of control, helplessly looking at her husband unraveling before her. He was exhausted, dark circles under his eyes practically passing for bruises, face pallid and sweaty, hair and clothes disheveled, torn, bloodied and filthy, breathing ragged. His green doublet was steadily staining red from his shoulder as he guarded it with his right hand, hovering just over the spear’s entry. She didn’t know what to say, what to do, she just wanted to hold him and make him rest and stop the entire world from hurting him and Link, to stop everything.

The dead Hylians around her made her shudder, hugging herself as she trembled. Impa knelt down, examining one of them, finger tracing a symbol that looked strangely like the Sheikah one.

Abel took another step away. “Go back to Kakariko.”

Tilieth shook her head, choking on her tears and worry. I won’t leave you! Tell me what’s wrong!

Her silence wasn’t helping, and she knew it. Abel usually would pick up on it, would recognize that she was overwhelmed and step in to take over, but this time he was the one who needed someone to step in, and she—

Tilieth gritted her teeth, swallowing hard, taking a step forward. If she couldn’t find her words, she could at least do something.

The movement made everything worse, though, as Abel took several steps away, eying Ama.

“What’s wrong?” she finally desperately burst out, voice raw and breaking. She started to cry, hesitating to step forward but wanting so desperately to do so. “Abel, what happened? Why did you leave me?”

“I—I didn’t—I—” Abel stammered, sounding hoarse. “Tilieth it’s my fault—”

She knew he blamed himself for her injury. “Honey, don’t you understand—”

“I’m the one who hurt you!” Abel yelled, continuing to step away, backing himself near into a corner like a terrified animal. “Til, don’t you—don’t you see, I—I set that hinox on a rampage on the plateau that led to the shrine’s destruction, I gave you that concussion – I can’t be near you two, I’m going to get you killed, I—”

He cut himself off, right hand snaking around the spearhead, entire body shaking.

Tilieth felt the blood drain out of her face, mind numbing at the words and pushing them aside as she saw what he was doing, what he was planning. “Abel, no—”

“Go back to Kakariko,” he said, his voice lower, growling, threatening. Go or I’ll pull it out.

Her world was spinning, and her fingers and toes were tingling with how shallow and quickly she was breathing. What had—

Her injury had been from… him? How?!

What had happened?!

He was slipping. Her husband was slipping, and she was suddenly terrified for him, terrified of him, and she hated everything about this.

This wasn’t the man she knew, the man she fell in love with and married.

But it is, her heart cried. It is, he’s buried in there, buried in fear and grief and hurt.

But how could she reach him if he wouldn’t let her?!

A risk popped in her mind. A prayer, a hope, a desperation, an insane idea, putting such a precious life on the line.

But that life was already on the line.

Tilieth said a prayer. She said a prayer over and over and over. She mustered up all the courage she could, she grappled with every ounce of spontaneous, fiery, daring energy she had within her.

And she rushed for him.

Abel froze for a heart stopping moment, giving her hope, his eyes widening. But the surprise was quickly supplanted by absolute terror, and he ripped the spearhead out with a desperate, pained cry.

Tilieth couldn’t even get a scream out of her throat at this point, but oh her heart did so as the blood poured, excessive in its flow, increasing and decreasing in pulsating rhythm, bright red and entirely too much.

Lady Impa was faster than Tilieth could ever be, tackling the man and slamming her hand on the wound. “What are you thinking?!”

Tilieth stumbled to a halt in front of the pair, falling to her knees, hands gripping her husband’s tunic desperately, tears falling, sobs scraping out of her. Abel watched her, eyebrows pinched together, looking so much like a scared child, crying, eyes begging and apologizing more than any words could ever convey.

“The slate!” Lady Impa hissed. “Get him back to Kakariko – Kollin can help him! I’ll get the horse.”

Tilieth quickly pulled it out, numb fingers fumbling to pull up the shrine in the village. She put pressure on the wound, garnering a whimper of pain from her husband, his hand reaching for hers. She expected a fight of some sort, she expected that he’d completely lost his senses at this point, but instead of pulling her off him, his hand simply rested over hers, weak and trying and failing to grip. Their eyes locked as she finally selected the right shrine, and for a heart stopping moment, the world froze all around them.

She could see her husband, young and shy, smiling at her with a little nod of his head as he visited Hateno with other soldiers. She could see the brave young man who marched off to his next assignment after their marriage, holding her so closely, telling her how much he loved her. She could see the relief on his face when he returned to see her after his multiple year mission to Zora’s Domain, the joy that radiated from him and their son as they finally got to see her healthy again. She remembered his whispers in their most intimate moments, the way he held her to comfort her through the years, his promises to keep her safe after the world fell apart and burned, his silent vigil at Link’s shrine.

Tilieth leaned in, kissing him as the Sheikah magic carried them away, her tears intermingling with his own, falling to his cheeks as they trailed through the dirt together, carrying the blood away. She didn’t notice as the world came back to life, as birdsong replaced the sound of the water, as sunlight warmed the chilly drizzle that had soaked both of them. Abel hiccuped against her, falling apart at the tenderness of her touch, whispering over and over until the words sank into Tilieth’s mind.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Til. I love you, I love you, I love you—”

She found her voice. “You’re going to be okay, Abel. You’re going to be okay.”

#writing #Blood of the hero #Breath of the wild #breath of the wild link #BotW link #abel #tilieth #I made myself cry with the ending lol #I love them so freaking much #Up next Abel FINALLY is forced to take a freaking break #And Til gets to do allll the side quests #I promise they’ll be able to actually get comfort LOL #legend of zelda #Link’s over here getting some more stamina from Hylia and Til and Abel are too busy with their drama to notice #Poor Impa is wondering if this family drama is somehow worse than Rhoam and Zelda #Breath of the wild impa #BotW impa #impa

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