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powdermelonkeg · 3 years

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Hyrule Brochure: A Potential for BotW’s Future

Hyrule’s map in BotW is pretty sparse as far as cities go. Yes, it’s got more than any other Zelda game, but it also has like, 90% of its map being pure dead space.

So I decided to play around and make what I imagine Hyrule would look like, as far as cities go, if it were allowed to properly rebuild and not get totally wrecked by Ganon again.

Credit to Eragon2589 on DeviantArt for the free-to-use map icons. I love these little buttons so much.

So, these are the canon towns we get in BotW; Hateno, Lurelin, Tarrey, Zora’s Domain, Goron City, Korok Forest, Rito Village, Yiga Hideout, and Gerudo Town. I’m counting Yiga Hideout as a town because if the Yiga were a little nicer, it WOULD be marked one.

Adding the various stables on makes the place look MUCH less empty, but still; what can we do with this?

Well, I’ve spent the last several days locating all the significant ruins and landmarks, with one or two extra things thrown in, that I think would make this place much more populated.

Maps are free to use if you want them, btw. Have fun!

As a general rule of thumb, I want to make the towers and stables their own cities. The towers are a good landmark and beacon of safety, and the stables have all the building blocks to start building up a village.

If I’m particularly inspired, I’ll give some background on what the town is/does!

Starting off with the Rito! Their village has grown into a town, and the stable at its foothill is its own village now. I called it “fledgeling” because that’s where the Rito and Hylians would intermingle most, so the Rito aren’t exactly flying around here.

Beacon City is built around Tabantha Tower; the Rito have turned it into a sort of lighthouse, reflecting light off into the distance to help guide nighttime fliers home. Because of this, it’s a very popular stop for mail carriers, and where they go, development and cultural mixing follows.

Kaysa Town is built around Great Fairy Kaysa’s fountain; it’s a popular tourist attraction, and she gets plenty of offerings, so win-win!

For the Gorons, we’ve only got two more cities: Silversmith Village and Din’s Spire. Silversmith is built around the culture in the southern mines, and it has down-the-road access to the Goron Hot Springs. Din’s Spire is less of a town and more of a landmark, due to the sheer cliffs all around it, but the huge (and notably not in the burning death zone) hot spring lake makes it a popular rest stop for people on their way through.

I decided not to rebuild the northern mines; they’re pretty busted up and lava soaked, so my assumption is that they were abandoned either due to hazards or due to the ore being stripped out.

Korok Forest wouldn’t change much, besides the Royal Family declaring it a protected area. The Koroks don’t seem to have much interest in expansion, and they, as far as I know, don’t live in houses.

Gerudo Territory is MUCH more expansive than the others so far, and with good reason.

Gerudo Town itself is now Gerudo City, and the Kara Kara Bazaar has grown into a town. Canyon Stable has developed a village (mostly full of Gerudo husbands so they don’t have to travel a million miles just to see their families).

The Gerudo have control of one of the towers in their region, and the town built around it is Overlook Town. It mostly serves as a training grounds for young Gerudo warriors.

The City of the Seven developed when the Seven Heroine statues were recovered and restored; the town around them was built to honor them, and then it got a LOT of foot traffic from those wanting to see the legendary statues.

Tera Town rose up much in the same way Kaysa Town did up in Rito territory, centered around the Great Fairy Fountain.

Mesa Village and West Gerudo Town are both smaller Gerudo settlements; West Gerudo sprung up out of access to snowmelt from the Gerudo Highlands, and Mesa Village, because of its relative safety from Molduga and access to oasis water.

Finally, Gerudo Valley, in reference to Ocarina of Time. This town is a Gerudo-only zone, and is more a fortress than a town. It exists both to keep an eye on the Yiga and to gain control of the mountain pass, making people go through Canyon Village to get to Gerudo instead of avoiding Gerudo customs.

Speaking of the Yiga, they’ve taken two new spots for themselves; Gerudo Tower, which they’ve renamed Kohga Tower in honor of their late Master, and Banana Labyrinth, which serves as their highest security area. Imagine if you’d had to go through the LABYRINTH to get the Thunder Helm back.

Up next we’ve got the Zora. Truthfully, their territory spans as long as Zora river and WELL into the ocean, but these are the only cities that, technically, a Hylian with adequate gear can enter.

Mipha’s Landing is an above-water city built expressly for doing trade. It got its name from the late Mipha; since the tower reaches up into the sky, it was hoped that someday, her spirit would sit atop it for a rest and see all that her people had been able to do thanks to her sacrifice.

Lakebed Village is in Lake Hylia, and it’s actually a slowly-repopulating Lakebed Temple, from Twilight Princess. Meanwhile, Great Bay City is a port town above water and an aquatic metropolis below, full of music and dance and exotic wares.

And finally, Hylians.

Hoo boy.

I’ve split this up region by region but

THIS is how many living spots they’ve got.

Silver stars indicate military towns. Red stars indicate military outposts.

I USE THE TERM MILITARY VERY LOOSELY HERE. Hyrule, since it doesn’t interact with its neighbors, only has the Yiga and the various monsters to fight against. Anything labeled “military” means that it’s staffed by royal employ, meaning knights and Sheikah and the like.

Let’s start with Akkala. The northeast labyrinth has been converted into an emergency bunker, in case Calamity strikes and people need a safe place to hide. Not only is it difficult to break into, it also has a completely empty lower level that’s PERFECT for long-term seige.

City Tempest got its name for being near-constantly wracked by storms. Despite this, though, it remains a popular vacation spot for people who don’t mind a little rain; the Skull Lake and the giant flowers are worth it.

Valley Town rose up out of both East Akkala Stable and Robbie’s workshop. It doesn’t get too much foot traffic, but it doesn’t really need to.

Midna Village, I built where the ruins of Shadow Hamlet are. I figured it was a fitting name, and the area is almost constantly covered in the shadow of Death Mountain.

Four Brothers’ Base is a knight outpost that’s up extremely high, spanning huge bridges between the four Tingle isles.

Then Parapa Palace, in reference to Zelda II: Adventure of Link, was built in place of the Akkala Citadel and functions as a mini Hyrule Castle + Castle Town. In real life, monarchs would have several palaces to go between, kind of like how well-off people nowadays would have a summer home. So, I followed that trend! This is Zel’s summer palace.

And you guys know what Tarrey Town is. Although interestingly, as it expands, it goes vertical into the stone column it was built on.

Onto Central Hyrule.

Camp Rauru is training camp and lodging for new knights. Rebonae Village and Kasuto City were made out of the Wetland and Riverside stables respectively, though Kasuto (also an Adventure of Link reference) gets substantially more foot traffic due to being on the way from Castle Town to Dueling Peaks.

Outset Town got its name, lore-wise, from the fact that it’s the first bit of land Link from BotW visited after leaving the Great Plateau, and meta-wise, because it’s the starting point for Wind Waker Link.

Aquame City surrounds the Coliseum, which is how it grew to be so popular. The grand stage holds sparring matches and various other shows regularly, and it’s a pleasant boat trip from Castle Town to get there.

Saria Town was built out of the old exchange ruins, and it’s in walking distance of the ruined Sage Temple—which, at this point in time, would have been rebuilt—and its existence is both an AoL reference and an OoT one (but mostly AoL, I’ve kind of fallen in love with its map).

New Mabe is where you can find the new Lon Lon Ranch! The ruins there are actually called the Mabe Town Ruins in game, and they’re right by the Ranch Ruins!

Eldin’s pretty sparse as far as Hylian towns go. It’s got Gut Check Camp, where Sheikah train for endurance and elemental resistance, and Windfall Town, a place that sees a LOT of gemstones pass through, freshly mined. That includes rupee ore, mind you!

Faron Province is a little more spaced out, due to the nature of the region. Lurelin’s grown since BotW, becoming a trading bay; meanwhile Cora Lake’s Sheikah Tower has expanded into Parache Town, and the Highland Stable has become Malanya Village. Both of those locations are VERY fond of horses, and they’re a bit competitive, especially during archery season.

Ordona Hamlet is a tiny village tucked away into the middle of Faron. It came about due to the Lakeside Stable, and it’s named that because I am STILL salty that the Zeldevs didn’t put an Ordon Village reference in the game.

Eventide Outpost is more of a testing ground for boats than anything particularly significant, population-wise. The even tides that gave the isle its name make it an ideal location to work out the kinks in new watercraft (and occasionally, the lieutenant in charge of that base demonstrates how to launch a raft into the sky with octo balloons).

Hebra’s the most militarized area of Hyrule, and ideally, it functions as a reserve of men and tech in case Calamity rises again. If there’s anything that BotW’s era learned, it’s to never underprepare for Gann’s return.

Fort Lomei is a converted base, just like the Banana Labyrinth is to the Yiga. This one, though, is patrolled diligently by knights who use daily-changing codes, and it’s impossible to navigate without the locals’ help.

Fort Pikida is situated in that weird stone cavern-y area, and it’s a supply stach and Hebran monster patrol site. It’s the soldiers there’s job to make sure that the Lynels that like to roam the region don’t get too close to residential areas.

Hia Miu Outpost is a training spot for knights sent to the Hebra region; any new soldier to the area has to prove they can handle themselves by going into the Hia Miu shrine and taking on the Major Test of Strength Trial. (Fun fact, did you know that the X-test-of-strength trials reset themselves every blood moon?)

Snowpeak Fortress exists both because it makes a fantastic secondary base for the Hyrulean royals to plan, and because i am once again salty about the lack of Twilight Princess in this game.

Sturnida Resort is built around hot springs! It’s a nice spot for people living around Rito Town and Fledgling Village to take a vacation without having to trek all the way across the country to do it.

Snowfield City came from Snowfield Stable, and it’s the Windfall of Hebra; it sees a LOT of people coming in and out of the region, and the view of the northern lights you can get from there? You’d be hard-pressed to find a Hylian that didn’t have it on their bucket list.

New Tabantha was built on the ruined spot of the original Tabantha Village; you can visit there in-game! It’s a quiet town that raises highland sheep for a living, and its team won the Hebran Triathlon three whole years in a row.

Then, the Tanagar Restricted Zone. If you’ve ever been there, you know EXACTLY why it’s restricted.

Most of the Guardians inside have been dealt with, but the ruined temple remains a hazard testing ground for new tech. It’s off limits to everyone but those with the HIGHEST clearance; I’m talking a direct letter from Zelda herself.

The Thyphlo Secret Camp is exactly what it says on the tin. It’s a place for Hyrulean lieutenants to meet for top-secret missions, and it’s one of those places that you need to be SERIOUSLY high rank to even KNOW about.

Over on the edge of Lanayru, we’ve got New Goponga, built where the old Goponga ruins are, and the Crenel Garrison. The Garrison was built to take care of the Lizalfos problems in the waterways, keeping it safe for Hylians and Zora travelers alike. Goponga, on the other hand, is what Lurelin was in game; nice, friendly, and centered around fishery.

In Necluda, we’ve got New Deya where old Deya was ruined (I think BotW Link was born in old Deya!), Watchtower Village built around the lakeside of the Dueling Peaks tower, and then Dueling Peaks City, a HUGE trade hub that was once the Dueling Peaks stable.

Kakariko Village is now a Town, Hateno has grown into a full blown trade harbor, and a tiny village has started to form around the Hateno Tower, making Firly Overlook.

But what I most love is the City of Hylanay.

Back in the game, it was the ruins of the Lanayru Promenade. So I had the promenade rebuilt, then people moved in around it, and now, Hylanay’s basically Hyrulean Venice! I want to visit it.

On the Great Plateau, we’ve got Aboda Town, named after Spirit Tracks’ Aboda Village in reference to the starting point in each game. This Town has access to the original Temple of Time, but because of the nature of the isolated plateau, it doesn’t see a lot of new faces often.

Over around Thundra, we’ve got Tanagar Village overlooking the canyon, built out of the old Tabantha Stable. The village actually builds downwards into the canyon; people have windows carved right out of the cliff face!

Thundra Village is built into the rocky slopes surrounding Thundra Plateau and the Ridgeland Tower. Their houses are built in the shelter of the giant mushroom things that grow so well in the area, and they’re famous for their signature dish of escargot.

The Serenne Exchange is up north, encompassing both the old Serenne Stable and the Maritta exchange ruins. You can buy practically ANYTHING there; if ever there was a supermarket in Hyrule, it would be right there.

The Royal Lab was rebuilt out of its ruins post Calamity, and it’s directed by Purah, who still hasn’t cured her immortality yet. It’s not uncommon to hear explosions as you pass by that place.

And then Camp Rutile is a small observational outpost, meant to keep track of the activity on Satori Mountain. Supposedly, the mountain’s health reflects the state of the rest of the kingdom, so the researchers assigned there are tasked with monitoring it EXTREMELY closely.

And Hyrule Castle. It’s Hyrule Castle.

Now completely bolted into the ground! :D

If we put all these locations together, we get a very nice, very well populated Hyrule, with LOTS to see. This is how I would design the future of BotW’s Hyrule.

Thanks for reading!

#loz #zelda #worldbuilding #headcanons #MAPS #CITIES #I WANT A POPULATED HYRULE #botw

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pocketseizure · 3 years

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A Noble Pursuit

None of the lessons from the Gerudo Classroom have prepared Rhondson for married life with Hudson, who has grown restless and disappeared from Tarrey Town a year after its founding. She travels to the Akkala Citadel Ruins to hunt for her husband while reflecting on the bridges that will need to be rebuilt in order for Hyrule to embrace a peaceful future.

This story about archaeology, castles, ruins, cultural differences, giant monster friends, and what it means “to live happily ever after” was written for @memorabiliazine, and it’s also on AO3 (here). The accompanying illustrations are by the stylish scholar @pocketwei.

. . . . . . . . . .

This wasn’t the first time Rhondson had set off on a husband hunt.

It was late summer, almost a year after the ghost of the Great Calamity vanished from the castle. Most of Hyrule was still green, but the first touches of red and gold had already begun to appear on the trees of Akkala. It was chilly when Rhondson left Tarrey Town, but the morning fog had lifted and the sky was crystal clear.

Rhondson had always enjoyed mornings. Most people woke up early in the desert and took a nap during the worst heat of the afternoon so that they could stay up late into the evening. Rhondson kept the same schedule in Tarrey Town, a practice that Hudson found inexplicably upsetting. He complained, almost every day now, that she never went to bed with him. He insisted that a man and his wife should fall asleep together. Rhondson explained that she enjoyed sewing by lamplight at night, when the world is quiet and even the plainest thread shines like gold, but he refused to understand.

Hudson had recently grown restless. Perhaps it was because of the tension in their relationship, or perhaps it was only the change of season, but he left Tarrey Town one afternoon and never returned. Ashai’s classes hadn’t prepared Rhondson for this. They’d talked so much about how to catch a man, but never about how to keep him. She wondered if other vai had the same problem. All of the romances she read when she was younger ended with a “happily ever after,” but what was supposed to happen the next day? And the day after that?

All things considered, Rhondson was content with her life in Tarrey Town. Her feelings about the settlement had been ambiguous at first. The location was out-of-the-way, to say the least, but the town received more visitors than she’d expected. The son of the two Sheikah researchers who lived in an old lighthouse up on the northern cliffs made his living as a traveling merchant of fine clothing, and he saw to it that Rhondson always had work. Tarrey Town was unique in its appeal as a marketplace for goods from all over Hyrule, and Hudson’s brightly painted modular houses had become something of a tourist attraction. He’d been flooded with orders for summer rental homes, and a satellite community had sprung up on the other side of the bridge to satisfy the demand.

Hudson managed to keep himself busy, but he seemed to harbor doubts about establishing Tarrey Town on such a small island. To make matters worse, many of the people who’d come to town for the summer were starting to drift away as the days became shorter. Perhaps they were worried about Akkala’s infamous autumn thunderstorms. Rhondson happened to enjoy the heavy rains, whose gale winds and lightning crashes reminded her of the sandstorms back home, but she understood how the violent weather and sudden drop in temperature might put off people who weren’t accustomed to the climate. She’d camped at more than a few oasis waystations during her travels, and she knew it was perfectly natural for the population of a place like Tarrey Town to wax and wane with the season.

Rhondson tried to explain to Hudson how it was normal for people to come and go. Many of the town residents were nomadic by nature, she said, and they had no excuse not to indulge their wanderlust now that it was safe to travel. Hudson adamantly refused to listen. He insisted that a man’s home was his castle. But why not have two castles, Rhondson objected. And people would come back next summer, she reasoned. They’d had to hire new workers to perform upkeep on the vacation homes during the winter, after all, so it wasn’t as though the population was shrinking. If he was feeling ambitious, she added with a wink, they might be able to add their own contribution to the town’s population.

“I’m just not sure how long this town will last,” Hudson replied, ending the conversation with a sigh.

His admission put Rhondson ill at ease, and she couldn’t help recalling Hudson’s anxiety when she realized that he hadn’t come home during the night. “Sometimes you have to treat voe like children,” Ashai had once explained. “There will be times when they take action without thinking about how it will affect you, but it’s likely that their behavior comes from simple thoughtlessness, not spite.” Rhondson didn’t know about that. She’d met enough silly and immature vai in her life to understand that voe didn’t have a monopoly on being pigheaded. Still, if Hudson had gone out and gotten himself lost, purposefully or otherwise, she might as well go find him.

Rhondson set out from Tarrey Town and walked due south, pacing herself as she made her way up the gentle slope of the hills leading to Upland Zorana. Once the mountains began in earnest, she turned west at the road leading to the old stone quarry and kept going until she could see the waterfalls at the source of Lake Akkala.

She’d crossed the Sokkala Bridges when she first came to Tarrey Town instead of taking the longer road to the north, and she was just as impressed by them now as she was then. The log bridges were simple structures, really, not much more than planks laid over support pillars embedded in the banks of the rivulets flowing from the waterfall basin, but they were sturdy and well-constructed. A traveler could cross them with ease, secure enough in their footing to look up and appreciate the rainbows that danced in the misty spray of the waterfalls.

Not every bridge needed to be the Bridge of Hylia, Rhondson thought. Perhaps it was better if most bridges weren’t, in fact. The Bridge of Hylia was a magnificent piece of work, to be sure, but it seemed as though it was already in a state of disrepair even before the Great Calamity. Judging from the conversations between Hudson and his former boss Bolson, no living stonemason had any idea how to repair its gargantuan supports. Meanwhile, more modest structures like the Sokkala Bridges could be maintained whenever the need arose. In their own way, the Sokkala Bridges were just as important at the Bridge of Hylia, even if they never became monuments.

As she crossed the final bridge, Rhondson could see the hazy outline of Akkala Citadel rising in the west. Its massive size was impressive, but she couldn’t imagine it being particularly beneficial to anyone. Truth be told, the ruins weren’t much more than a glorified pile of old stone bricks that could almost certainly be put to better use elsewhere. Speaking of which, Rhondson was starting to get an inkling of where Hudson might have gotten himself off to. “A man’s home is his castle,” he liked to say, and how intriguing it must have been to have an actual castle so close to home, especially if its materials could be repurposed.

Rhondson headed north when the road forked and made her way across the old high bridge over the river, carefully navigating the deep fissures in the stone. Once she was safely on the other side, she began climbing the winding path up the mountain.

The leaves of the trees on the upper slopes of the hill had already turned a bold shade of crimson, and the weathered steel of the Sheikah Tower gleamed in the sun. Rumor had it that the citadel used to be patrolled by Guardians, but nothing confronted Rhondson save for a few moss-covered remnants of ceramic casing. Parts of the road had been washed away in a landslide, probably after the Malice swamp dried up, but the majority of the paving stones were still intact.

Rhondson entered the gatehouse at the foot of the outer wall surrounding the citadel. The inside was littered with rubble from a century-old battle, and the remains of more recent Bokoblin campfires were scattered across the floor. A partially overturned Guardian occupied a corner of the room, its segmented legs folded neatly underneath its casing like the paws of a sleeping cat. When she first set out from the desert, Rhondson had been terrified of encountering a Guardian, but she’d grown fond of the broken bits and pieces of their chassis that had been left beside Hyrule’s roads to remind travelers to remain vigilant. Their round faces and decoratively textured bodies were actually a bit cute, like oversized toys.

Rhondson passed through the gatehouse and entered a small courtyard. The walls of the citadel rose on every side of the open space, but the gaps between turrets were wide enough for the sun to shine through and warm the paving stones. One side of the courtyard was dominated by a large alcove that was probably used to shelter horses. The bare soil under the dilapidated wooden awning was covered in pale green scrub bush and dotted with bright yellow wildflowers.

A covered walkway ran along the opposite wall, connecting the gatehouse to the larger body of the citadel. As Rhondson followed the shaded path, she imagined how heavily the snowfall would accumulate at this altitude. She didn’t envy the soldiers tasked with shoveling duty. She glanced at the enormous wooden door that marked the entrance to the main hall, but its iron fittings were orange with rust. Thankfully, the smaller door at the end of the walkway was barely hanging by its hinges, and Rhondson had no trouble pushing it open.

She called Hudson’s name into the shadows of the citadel. Aside from the echo of her own voice, there was no answer. It probably wasn’t safe to go inside, but she had already come so far. Rhondson figured that she may as well make sure that Hudson wasn’t here before she left.

The interior of the fortress wasn’t nearly as impressive as its silhouette. The entryway was much smaller than she expected, and the floor was made of packed earth. As Rhondson’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could see that the wooden beams of the ceiling were exposed. They were dark with ash. The smoke had probably come from the tall braziers secured to the pillars set into the stone walls.

Rhondson walked across the hall, glancing around her with interest. A few piles of old leaves moldered just inside the open service door, but the room was remarkably clean. The tapestries displayed in the bays between pillars still retained some of their color, and wooden weapons racks still clung to the stone walls next to the main gate. Rhondson realized that the earth floor must absorb the humidity of summer and the chill of winter, keeping the wood and cloth relatively preserved. The layer of ash coating the wooden beams of the ceiling probably helped protect them from the elements as well.

Large passageways ringed with shallow arches connected the central hall to the east and west wings, but Rhondson was more interested in a spiral staircase carved into the back wall. Although she had to bend her head to enter, the stairs bore her weight. Each step dipped slightly toward the middle from centuries of use. As she climbed to the next floor, Rhondson was amused by the thought of walking in the footsteps of people who had lived so long ago.

The room above was much smaller than the citadel’s entrance, but its ceiling was almost as high. The walls were constructed of the same unpainted white limestone as the fortress exterior. Their rough surfaces were irregularly broken by small rectangular windows positioned slightly above eye level. Some of the glass panes were missing, allowing a cool breeze to enter the bright and sun-warmed space, but the floorboards were level and seemed solid enough

Rhondson began to make her way from room to room. Her first thought was that the haphazard layout was due to poor planning, but she gradually realized that different parts of the Akkala Citadel must have been built at different times, more than likely after various battles. Very few furnishings remained in the deserted fortress, but the architecture differed so drastically between rooms that it was clear she was walking through different periods of history. Rhondson was amazed by the evolution of the windows, which became larger and more ornate as she walked. She imagined that this was what Hyrule Castle must look like, an amalgamation of architectural styles that had grown and transformed along with the kingdom itself.

Rhondson enjoyed her stroll through the ruins, but Hudson was nowhere to be found. The sun was already low in the sky, so she made her way outside and began her descent. From her vantage point at the top of the path, she could see a flat patch of land at the base of the hill. The soldiers stationed here must have used it as a parade ground for exercise and training. It would be as good a place as any to make camp.

Dusk had begun to gather by the time she arrived on the field, and the shadows lay long across the tall grass. Rhondson didn’t see the Hinox immediately, but she could smell it. The odor wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unmistakable. As soon as she realized that she wasn’t alone, Rhondson turned to leave. Most Hinoxes tended to ignore the travelers that wandered into their vicinity, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

Without warning, the Hinox bellowed. Its scream sent startled birds up from the nearby trees in a rush of beating wings and angry squawking. Rhondson prepared herself to make a run for her life, but she was stopped in her tracks by a voice she would recognize anywhere.

“Don’t cry, you big baby. It only stings at first. You’ll feel better in two shakes of a blupee’s tail.”

Rhondson shook her head with amusement as she walked across the field toward the source of the voice. The Hinox pouted at her, giant tears spilling from its eye.

“Hudson?”

The broad-shouldered man crouching beside the Hinox jerked his head up. “Rhondson? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I came looking for you. Is this where you’ve been this whole time?”

“I meant to come back last night,” Hudson replied, averting his eyes. “But this oaf hurt his foot while helping me clear away the rubble on the path up the mountain, and I couldn’t just leave him like this. The wound would have suppurated, and he’s all alone out here.”

Rhondson gave the Hinox a closer look and saw that it – he – had a deep gash on his heel. Hudson was cleaning it with a balled-up wad of fabric. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the first workshirt she’d sewn for him. She’d made it just as they were starting to get to know one another, before she knew his measurements, and it fit him poorly. She asked him to throw it away and bury it with the compost months ago, but he’d apparently kept it. Hudson was surprisingly sentimental for a man who insisted on utility over decoration. It was one of the things she liked about him.

Rhondson smiled as she shrugged her pack onto the ground and dug out a jar of safflina salve. As Hudson helped her dress the Hinox’s wound, he explained that he had indeed come here to assess the state of the stonework. He assumed the citadel would be in ruins, but the structure was still sound. It would be a shame to dismantle it. With a few minor renovations, it would be almost as good as new. Still, making it more habitable would mean reducing its efficacy as a fortress.

“But what does that matter?” Rhondson asked. “Who’s going to attack it?”

“There are monsters roaming about, and…”

“Does this ‘monster’ look like he’s going to attack anyone?”

The Hinox had fallen asleep as they talked and was snoring lightly.

“He’s not a monster,” Hudson replied with a frown.

“Exactly. It seems to me that you’re already thinking about hiring him to work for you.”

“I’m not… Well, I guess I am. Having a Hinox around would be useful, especially if I decide to fix up this place, but we’d have to knock down some of the interior walls to make more room for him.”

Rhondson winced as she remembered all the times she’d banged her forehead on Hylian doorways. Now that she thought about it, there was no reason for those doors to be so low in the first place, especially not when her husband could so easily make them more accommodating. “Weren’t you planning to knock down the walls anyway?” she pointed out. “You could use the materials to repair the bridge.”

“But it’s disrespectful not to honor the past,” Hudson objected. “Shouldn’t the history of the Akkala Citadel be preserved?”

“It’s in ruins.” Rhondson put a hand on his shoulder. “One day you’ll have to come with me to visit my family. Everything in Gerudo Town is built on top of history. Nothing gets done if you worry about preserving the past as it once was. Living things change, and that includes old castles like this.”

“Maybe it includes towns too,” Hudson replied. “I guess it won’t be so bad if Tarrey Town grows. We could have a sister city maybe, right here on this hill. It would be a convenient waystation for travelers.” He thought for a moment. “And a good place for Hinoxes, too. It’s built on their scale, at least, and they’re all over Akkala. It’s a shame they always have to sleep in the open. Besides, Mason looks like he could use a friend. He’ll be lonely without me.”

Mason? Rhondson grinned at the name her husband had assigned to the Hinox. “Are you going to bring him home, then?” she asked.

“Home is wherever you are, Rhondson. We’ll go wherever you like. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but we can spend a night or two away from Tarrey Town. I’d like to go back to the citadel tomorrow morning. I don’t think anyone has been inside this place for at least a hundred years.”

The sun had finally set, and stars were beginning to shine in the deepening indigo of the twilight sky. Rhondson smiled as she pictured the castle on the hill once again filled with lights. There was a certain charm to speculating on what the past might have been like, but the future held much more potential for imagination.

#Legend of Zelda #Breath of the Wild #Rhondson #Gerudo culture #Memorabilia zine #pocketwei #architecture #ruins #Zelda zines #Zelda art #Zelda fic #my fic

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

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Christmas Wrappings (Missed Connections)

The tenth prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts, a sequel to prompt #4, Broken Heart

Prompt List

Words: 3072

Summary: Zelda attends Kakariko Village’s Hylia’s Day Celebration with her roommates, and Link shows up to join in on the fun.

Warnings: second hand embarrassment probably, statements such as “contemplated jumping into the nearest pond”

BotW Modern AU

Zelink-mas 2020 l Masterlist

A semester had passed by in the blink of an eye.

Well, that wasn’t very accurate. There were periods of time where the semester felt like it was just crawling, and there were times she became so overwhelmed with her work that she considered dropping out. But she loved her work with Sheikah technology, and she was at the top of nearly every class, and she loved the group of friends she’d made at Akkala Technical University, so she pushed through to the end.

Three of those close friends were Sheikah, which was incredibly helpful whenever she got stuck on a research paper or a lab. Two of those Sheikah friends were also her roommates, which meant she had help at all times. It also meant that she would be begging them all to come visit over the winter break.

That went both ways, of course. So when Impa and Purah demanded that Zelda come spend a week with them in Kakariko for the Hylia’s Day celebration, she couldn’t say no.

The village was quaint and Zelda fell in love with it immediately. Winter break or not, she could learn so much from just being around so many Sheikah. She was excited, to say the least.

Her phone vibrating in her pocket broke her moment of peace. She fished it out of her pocket and frowned. That slap of guilt had never left, which she was kindly reminded of every time she saw his name pop up on the screen.

[Hey, are you coming back to Castle Town for the break?]

Zelda took a breath and debated throwing her phone into the nearest pond. It was complicated. She tried ghosting him in the first few weeks of the semester, but that hurt more than talking to him did. So she chickened out of it with some lame excuse and decided to stay frustrated with herself for her stupid choices for the rest of time.

[I’m in Kakariko with some roommates for Hylia’s Day, but I’ll be back home in a week] she replied. His response was almost immediate.

[I’m in Hateno! You should come visit :)]

Goddesses, he was still annoyingly adorable. It was a good thing she was way past crying, or she’d be sniffling.

[Why don’t you make your way up here, lazy bones?]

[Is that an official invite? :D]

Zelda bit her lip and glanced around her, as if someone would be watching her mistakes over her shoulder. She still hadn’t entered the village yet. It wasn’t too late to book it to Castle Town and then revoke the playful invite.

[If you can make it here, then yes :)]

“Who’s got your nose glued to that phone?”

She jumped, sending her phone flying out of her hands and into a nearby bush. Of course, Purah doubled over in laughter as she went to fetch it.

“Purah!” Zelda exclaimed, just barely keeping herself from stomping like a child.

“Sorry,” Purah replied once she’d gained her breath back. But she wasn’t sorry at all. “Ugh, Link is still bothering you?”

“He’s not a bother,” Zelda defended, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Really? Because you told me you were over him.”

“That.. well, uh, might’ve been a teensy lie.”

Purah stared at her with what could only be described as a I-Shouldn’t-Be-Surprised-Because-You’re-That-Obvious-But-I’m-Disappointed-Anyway look and Zelda looked at anything but her roommate.

“You invited him over?!”

“I panicked!”

“How on Hylia’s green Hyrule you are the highest placing student at Akkala Tech is beyond me. Do you need a 101 in how to avoid ex boyfriends?”

“I don’t want to avoid him,” Zelda argued, but this conversation was going to take a turn if she didn’t stop it. “Where’s Impa?”

“She’s getting stuff ready at the house, but don’t think this is over because I’ll drag her into it too,” Purah warned as she linked an arm through hers and tugged her into the village.

“I’ll just tell him nevermind! It’s a girls week, right?”

Purah huffed and gave her another tug.

“Cherry’s coming at the end of the week and wherever Cherry goes, Robbie goes. So, no, not girls week.”

Zelda almost laughed. Seeing Robbie again was going to be interesting, but she was excited for it. A week away from home with some of her favorite people in all of Hyrule, what was not to love?

Purah took her to the largest house in the little village, and her excitement rose.

“You’re here!” exclaimed Impa when the door swung open. Zelda ripped her arm free from Purah’s hold so that she could hug her best friend.

“I love your house!” Zelda replied, looking around with wide eyes. “I’d stay here forever if I could.”

“We’re just getting started.”

It took less than ten minutes for Zelda to get settled in with the girls, and even less time for her to end up being scolded by both Sheikah sisters.

“Look at his photo,” Purah said, handing the phone off to Impa.

“And you let him go?” Impa asked incredulously as she looked up with wide eyes. Zelda felt like she was being interrogated.

“It’s complicated,” she defended, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, let me uncomplicate it.” Purah plucked the phone from Impa’s hands and Zelda nearly tackled her when she started typing.

“What are you doing?!”

“Helping you.”

When Zelda managed to wrestle her phone back to herself, Purah had already done the damage.

[Check it, it’s Z’s roommate. Come down any time ;) She’s gotta talk to you]

“Why?!” Zelda exclaimed, throwing the phone onto the nearest pillow so she didn’t have to see his response.

“Because you’re helpless!”

She looked to Impa for help, but Impa only shrugged.

“It’s for your own good, Z.”

Needless to say, day one of her trip to Kakariko didn’t go as planned.

The rest of the week went rather swimmingly compared to that. Zelda was coaxed into playing countless games with the village children, which was absolutely fascinating. They were so lively and intelligent. She remembered when she was like that, young and full of life before college sucked it right out of her.

Impa took her all over Kakariko, and then out to Goponga Village up in Lanayru Wetlands, and to Deya Village for a tour of places she’d never seen. The people were incredibly kind to her, and she was having more fun than she had when they were confined to the campus of their university.

It almost took her mind off of things entirely.

And Hylia’s Day came quickly. She spent it hanging up lights with Impa and Purah, watching a few other Sheikah return from the woods with game for the feast. Music was pouring from one corner, and Zelda scampered her way out of a dance with a poet by hiding behind Robbie—who’d arrived with Cherry for the celebration.

It was so different from how they celebrated in Castle Town, which was more of a carnival that lasted over a span of days. This was quieter, more personal, which made sense given the Sheikah were people of Hylia. It felt so much more intimate and real, and Zelda loved it. She wasn’t a diehard believer, but she respected it. During the opening prayer, facing the statue of the goddess, she even felt a sort of soft connection.

And then the festivities really kicked up. Zelda was almost ready to lose herself in the fun with her roommates, but in the process of searching for Purah with Impa, she ran into a very familiar face. Quite literally.

She scrambled backwards, grabbing onto Impa’s arm so she didn’t lose her footing.

“Hey,” Link said, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” she stuttered in return.

“Hey,” Impa input with an awkward wave. Zelda laughed just as awkwardly in an attempt to snap herself out of it.

“Um, Link, this is my roommate Impa. Impa, this is Link.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Impa said. Zelda resisted the urge to crawl under a rock and stay there forever.

“All good things, I hope,” Link replied with a laugh, glancing over at her. Zelda laughed again, just as awkward as the first.

“Totally. You’re welcome to join us for the festivities. There’s enough food to go around.” With that, Impa turned and continued her search for her sister. The crowd wasn’t that big, but Purah could be quite the escape artist when she wanted to be.

Zelda followed, falling into step with Link. She tried not to look at him too much. College hadn’t changed him at all, so he was just as, well.. Link as he was before. But she didn’t want the awkward and tense air to suffocate her, so she fiddled with her fingers and spoke again.

“So, um, is Hateno celebrating too?”

“Not like this. It’s more of an individual family thing,” he replied.

“It’s fascinating how everyone celebrates differently. What.. what made you decide to come up to Kakariko?”

“Well, you and your roommate invited me over and it’d just be rude to refuse.”

She made the mistake of looking over at him, and he smiled at her again. Zelda fought back her own smile and stuck her hands into her pockets.

“How’s.. life?” she asked, and tried not to visibly cringe.

“It’s okay,” Link answered with a shrug. “I see we both survived the first semester.”

“Barely,” Zelda corrected, glancing at Impa ahead of them. “If it weren’t for my roommates, I don’t think I-“

“Hold that thought, Z. Robbie incoming,” Impa warned. She hardly had time to brace herself before the eccentric genius was in front of them, and he’d dragged Purah and Cherry with him.

“Ah, there’s the rest of my entourage. What’s up, pretty ladies?” he greeted, wrestling to keep Purah under his arm.

“I thought you were supposed to be keeping him reigned in,” Impa said, setting her hands on her hips as she looked at Cherry.

“There’s no reigning in a party animal,” Robbie defended as Purah broke free of his grasp.

“Right,” Purah replied with an eyeroll. “Because a party animal passes out in our dorm at midnight after living off of energy drinks for forty-two hours.”

Robbie gave her a finger gun and clicked his tongue, and Zelda considered using this as an escape. But if she did escape, she wouldn’t have her friends to cover for her if Link decided to try talking.

“Um, these are my friends,” she told him, gesturing to the mess. “Purah, Cherry, and Robbie.”

“So this is the ex boyfriend, huh?” Purah asked as she lit up and circled him like a predator.

“That would be me, yes,” Link replied sheepishly.

“Again, I don’t know how you’re the top of your class, Z.

“Can we not insult my bad decisions?” Zelda asked with her hands on her hips.

“Not a chance,” Purah answered. “You’re just lucky the feast is about to start.”

“Thank Hylia,” Zelda muttered and followed after the chattering group.

“They seem nice,” Link said, nodding ahead of them.

“And genius,” she added. “Sometimes, next to them I feel extremely ordinary.”

“There’s nothing ordinary about you, Zel,” he replied. Zelda averted her gaze and laughed.

“Of course you would say that.”

“The truth?”

She shook her head with another smile, sticking her hands back into her pockets. In the middle of the village, a row of tables had been pushed together to form a banquet table that spanned the length of the place. Zelda took her seat besides Impa, and Link besides her, and then the feast really began.

“Have you learned any new recipes?” she asked curiously as they ate.

“Yeah, actually. I’ve started putting together a cookbook so I can always reference them.”

“Very smart. I don’t suppose you live off of microwaved noodles then.”

Link smiled and replied, “Sometimes.”

She could admit to herself, and preferably only herself, that she’d missed this. Talking to him, hanging out with him, it was part of her routine schedule and she didn’t realize that until she wasn’t texting him and calling him and meeting up for whatever silly activities they'd planned for the day.

And so far, despite how awkward she felt, it wasn’t going horribly. It could’ve been a lot worse. Like, goddesses, what would she have done if he’d appeared with another girl? Okay, no, she knew better than that. He wouldn’t do that to her. But did he have—

Why did she care oh goddesses Zelda get it together if you’re gonna spend Hylia’s Day thinking about a boy instead of having fun with your friends why did you bother coming Impa and Purah are going to tear you apart for this they will never let you live it down-

Zelda attempted to crumple those thoughts the way she’d crumpled failed outlines of research papers and tossed them into the nearest pit of fire in her brain.

The feast gave way to dancing. Tables were moved off to the sides, opening an area up for children and couples alike to do whatever they pleased. Purah and Robbie were some of the first to participate, and Zelda snorted when Impa looked away like she wasn’t aware of, or for that matter related to, one of them.

“You should join them,” Link teased, nudging her with his elbow. It was the first contact they’d made all evening. She hated that it sent her heart racing.

“Absolutely not,” she replied and crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, I don’t dance.”

He hummed sarcastically in response, making it clear that he knew better. He’d caught her dancing in her room when she thought she was alone, he’d roped her into dancing in the kitchen at two in the morning, and he’d dragged her to prom (which she would insist until the day she died that she was not interested in).

“Maybe you should start,” Link ended up saying. “Because it looks like someone’s about to ask you.”

Zelda’s heart stopped in her chest. Was he..? But then she followed his gaze and was disappointed (disappointed??) to find the same poet boy from earlier eyeing her like he was indeed thinking about it.

She could admit it wasn’t one of her best plans of escape, but she turned to Link and bit her lip.

“Save me?” she asked, extending a hand. He eyed it for a second, leaning back against a railing with a shrug.

“I dunno. Seems like a fitting punishment for someone who lied about dancing,” he replied, mischief twinkling in his sky blue eyes.

Oh, she was not about to beg for his help. Two could play that game, and she wouldn’t be the first to cave in.

“Fine, then maybe I will dance with him. He looks nice,” she answered, dropping her hand. She didn’t know what she was hoping for, exactly. To stir up some jealousy?

But Link only shrugged again.

“Suit yourself.”

So when the young poet approached her with a nervous smile and an extended hand, she did accept, offering what she hoped was a charming smile.

She made as much conversation as possible, and she liked to think it was going well.

Until Link swept past her with Purah, shooting her a grin. She glared playfully back, and her roommate winked.

“Trade off!” she shouted, and before Zelda could realize what was happening, much less protest to it, Purah had whisked the poor poet boy away, and she was back in Link’s arms.

“So you decided to save me after all?” she asked, hoping to combat the blush on her cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach.

“Did you not want me to?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow. “I can always go back to Purah.”

“Oh, Purah can do better,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“C’mon, Zel, I wasn’t that bad.”

“No, but you were too perfect.”

“Glad you can admit it.”

Zelda laughed and gave him a shove, but he pulled her back against him by her hands and she didn’t fight.

“I missed you,” she said, without a thought for what she was saying.

“Did you?” he asked. His cheeks were red, but his smile told her he already knew. “What are you gonna do about it then, sunshine?”

Well, maybe Purah was right about her being the top of her class, because she was about to do something real stupid. He was smiling at her with that stupid smile, and he was holding her like nothing ever happened, and goddesses, she missed him.

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled him into a long craved kiss, and she pretended she couldn’t hear Robbie whooping in the background.

“There’s my Zel,” Link said once they parted, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she pointed out, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t want anyone else,” he replied simply, then pressed a kiss to her nose.

“Is this my Hylia’s Day gift?” she asked with a laugh.

“Yep. Me, in all my glory. If it’s what you want.”

“I do.”

“Thank Hylia, now we can stop hearing about it,” said a voice that did not belong. Zelda whipped around to face Purah with wide eyes.

“Ooh, exposed,” Link sang, hugging her waist like he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Happy Hylia’s Day, you’re very much welcome,” Purah replied with a bow. Zelda contemplated throwing something at her.

“You are my least favorite roommate,” Zelda complained.

“Yeah, yeah, you can thank me on your wedding day.”

She buried her face in her hands as Purah skipped off, and Link’s laughter filled her ears.

Yeah, maybe one day she would thank her. But for now, she owed someone an apology.

“I’m sorry for.. you know,” she mumbled, turning back to face Link.

“Don’t apologize for needing time to figure stuff out,” he replied as he set a hand on her cheek, running his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Well, I figured out one thing,” she said.

“And what’s that?”

“That I don’t really want to be without you. Is that dumb?”

“Not at all.”

Link pulled her into another kiss and she hugged him close, deciding that this was probably one of the best Hylia’s Day celebrations she’d been to in a while. The goddess must’ve been smiling upon her today specifically, and she didn’t mind at all.

#zelink #botw zelink #modern au #christmas prompt #zelink prompts #link calling zelda sunshine is just #it hits me right in the heart #forever his nickname for her in my work

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snidgetwidgeon · 3 years

Text

Escape

This work was prompted by a fic exchange between friends on Discord. It evolved into something completely different as I wrote it, becoming my first whump! Prepare for the sad.

Zelda endeavors to find purpose through her crippling grief, but sometimes all you can do is leave your world behind, when all it has done is take from you.

~~~

Link found Zelda in the greenhouse treating the hydroponic tank, hands dipped into the cool water, emitting a soft golden glow. He never ceased to be mesmerized by her birth right and the creative ways she continued finding to help people.

She had chosen a quieter path after they sealed the Calamity. Rather than reinstating the monarchy in a kingdom that had clearly survived and moved on without it, she decided to be a healer. It was noble, but he also understood it to be penance. She still blamed herself for everything even though she was better at hiding it after all these years.

“Almost finished?” he asked, playing with the leaves of a tea bush.

She looked up startled, then relaxed as she saw it was only Link in his stealth set. He’d taken quite a liking to many things Sheikah since they made their residence in Kakariko and this was his favorite.

“What have I told you about slinking up on me?” she reprimanded calmly, refocusing her attention on the water.

“Don’t get caught?”

“Very funny,” she replied. “One of these days, you’ll startle the wrong person.”

Link answered with a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m coming soon, I just wanted to finish feeding the new crop before we left.”

“Alright, I’ll check the horses over, make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. The girls told me to tell you, ‘don’t you dare leave’ without seeing them first,” he mimicked Koko’s manner. “I think they have something for you at the house.”

She turned to say something but he had slipped out as quietly as he had slipped in. She blew out a slow breath, trying to retain her patience.

The glow faded as she lifted her hands out of the water. She dried them on her tunic and ensured the notes she left for Mellie were in the right place. With a final glance over, everything was as it should be. Satisfied, she went to find the girls to say goodbye.

Koko and Cottla slid the door open and threw themselves at her when she knocked. “Girls, girls! You aren’t little anymore, you’re gonna take me out one day if you keep bowling me over like a baby goron,” she chided them good naturedly.

“But we miss you already,” Cottla explained while squeezing Zelda’s waist.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Come on now, you know the drill.” Zelda pried them off. “Right, Link said you have something for me?”

Koko brightened and rushed to the table to retrieve an ornate box. “Dad made this box for you to organize your medicines in when you visit the other villages, and me and Cottie made you something too!”

Zelda took it and admired the craftsmanship. It was engraved with herbs well known as remedies for various ailments and even included a silent princess on the front between the two opening clasps. “This is so beautiful, and very practical. Please tell your father I appreciate it very much in case I don’t see him on my way out.” She then looked at the girls a little expectantly, who were fit to bursting, and asked, “And what did you two make?”

“Open it,” they both chimed, slightly out of sync.

“Oh! How silly of me, of course.” She carefully undid the clasps and raised the lid to reveal a variety of snacks. “My goodness, these look delicious.”

Cottla started pointing, “I made this one, and this one, and those ones-”

Koko interrupted, “And I made this one, and all of these ones,” she said as she lifted the top layer out of the box to reveal an extra compartment beneath.

“They look wonderful, thank you so much. I’ll make sure to stretch them out during my trip and think of you lots.”

With her free arm she hugged them both and kissed their foreheads before departing, mirroring their frantic waving.

~~~

Link and Zelda began in Akkala and made their way across central Hyrule and Tabantha. Zelda’s melancholy was always more noticeable on the road than in the village. They would go hours without speaking, and Link would hum to himself often, hoping that it offered her some comfort. About halfway through their journey, he noticed a change in her spirit.

Their next destination was Gerudo Town. It always warmed her heart to visit and was her favorite. It had been her home away from home when she was growing up and she was never able to visit as much as she wanted.

From Gerudo Stable, it took nearly a day on foot to reach Kara Kara where the pool was quite welcoming. They decided to have a refreshing dip to wash off the sweat and dust of the road. They followed this by sunning themselves on the rocks like lizards until mostly dry then went to secure a room and a meal. The following day they would rent some sand seals so as not to exhaust themselves on the remainder of the journey. Link double checked that he carried all pieces of the vai outfit so he would be able to enter. He did not fancy having to wait outside like that one year when he’d remembered everything but the all important face covering.

He could have returned to Kara Kara to try and source another, but there was no guarantee something would be available and by the time he returned, Zelda would be just about finished anyway. So he had slummed it with the men outside. It wasn’t all bad. They had a nice campfire and a sense of camaraderie during the night, but... never again.

After arriving, Link went to organize their rooms at the Oasis while Zelda sought an audience with Chief Riju. By now she was a young woman of nearly twenty, still on the small side for a Gerudo, but her thick red braid had grown with her and was just as impressive as ever.

“Zelda,” she greeted her guest enthusiastically, “I’ve been looking forward to your visit. Please tell me you’ll be staying longer this time, poor Patricia doesn’t know what to do with herself when you blow in and out.”

“I see you remembered my request from last time. Thank you,” she nodded sincerely.

“Of course, I’d call you anything you like. Absent, late,” she started waving her hands to various examples in jest, “never here long enough-”

“Alright, I get it. I’m sorry. It’s just,” Zelda focused on her feet, “Impa is so frail now, I was wary of leaving at all this year.”

Riju rose from her throne in concern and approached Zelda, taking her hands in her own. “My sincerest apologies, I would not have teased if I knew. How is she?”

Zelda looked up surprised before staring down at Riju’s hands. They were smooth and bronzed, adorned with golden bracelets and teal painted nails that reminded her of Urbosa. “She... she was certainly still well enough to send me packing, telling me not to languish around on her account. The other people of Hyrule need me too, and this is how I have chosen to help, so... here I am,” she smiled but it did not reach her eyes.

Riju enveloped her in a hug and she found herself staring wide-eyed at Buliara whom she could have sworn wore a light smirk. Green mirrored green as Riju then held her at arms length, gazing into her eyes before looking her over. “What has Link been feeding you? Chickaloo nuts?” Before Zelda could answer, Riju took her by the hand and dragged her out of the audience chamber. “We’re going to go have a nice meal at the Canteen.”

Buliara was quick to follow. “Chief Riju, you still have-”

“Whatever it is can wait, I’m spending time with our special guest,” Riju answered over her shoulder. Zelda felt a slight exhilaration being pulled down the steps into the town square where the evening markets were beginning to ramp up. “What about Link?”

Riju grinned, “He’s resourceful, he’ll find us,” she winked.

Zelda felt a flutter.

~~~

A fortnight or so later, they had made their way through the Faron region and hired a boat to take them around the cape into Hateno Bay. Zelda counted the last of the fifty-odd packs labeled Blessed Tea and handed them over to the Mayor when she saw Symin running down the hill from the lab. It only seemed slightly curious until she also spotted a Rito flying away. Suddenly she had a bad feeling.

She quickly finished her transaction, “These should help over winter, Mayor, excuse me,” then yelled for Link and raced to meet Symin, leaving the Mayor with a confused expression.

Link was swiftly by her side and they met Symin halfway up the path, everyone out of breath.

“Zelda,” Symin started, “we just received word- Impa.”

Zelda was stricken, and grabbed his arm, “Is she gone?!”

“No,” he gasped for breath, “fading.”

“Link, pack our things. I’ll get Purah ready.”

The three of them materialized just above Kakariko and Zelda immediately started running down the winding path through the houses. She didn’t stop until she was huffing right outside the door of the Elder’s house. She tried to compose herself. She wanted to brave.

She hadn’t felt such fear since the day she stared down the maw of the calamity.

Link caught up shortly after, having kindly kept pace with an adolescent Purah. Part of her hoped that her sister might chose to stay with them, but in her heart she knew. This whole exercise was going to be futile.

Zelda took a deep breath and pushed the door open, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the lanterns. Paya was sitting next to Impa’s platform, her red tower of pillows now replaced with a futon. Zelda could see Impa’s small form as she approached, appearing as though she could disappear altogether under the covers into nothingness.

Paya stood and took Zelda’s hands, “She’s been holding out for you, I know it,” she whispered.

Zelda choked on a sob. “Is she- can she still hear me?”

“Yes, she’s just sleeping. You look like you could use some rest too. I’ll come get you if she wakes.”

“No, there’s no way I’m leaving her.” Zelda sat next to the futon and put her hands on the cover. She could just make out the faint tattoo in the wrinkled folds of Impa’s forehead and stretched her fingers out to touch it. They started to glow and Zelda connected with Impa’s fading essence, offering comfort and wishing she could do more. She could feel it, she had no power over the natural death of age.

She locked eyes with Purah who was now standing close, and raised her brow in a silent, pleading question.

“Of course I’ll stay.” Purah joined her on the floor, one hand resting on Zelda’s knee for support and the other gripped tightly around her slate to stabilize her own feelings.

They sat for some time, mostly in silence, occasionally telling stories about their favorite times with Impa. Link made himself useful and cared for them the best way he knew how, bringing food and soothing tea, Zelda’s own mixture. It was hardly touched but accepted with love.

Finally, after the sun had just set, Impa stirred. She was having trouble blinking her eyes open so Paya dabbed them with a wet cloth. When she saw them, her mouth opened in a lopsided, toothless grin, “My girls. There you are,” she said with a croaky voice.

“I’m here, Impa,” Zelda darted her hand under the covers to take one of Impa’s into her own, the return clasp was so loose.

“You should be out, dear. Helping-”

“All finished. I’m home to stay now.” Zelda shuffled over a bit. “Do you see who I brought with me? It’s Purah.”

Impa’s mouth became a surprised ‘O’ and she cooed. “Oh my, young as the days I chastised you, I see.”

Purah smiled, “Hey, sis. You always knew how to look out for me, even if I didn’t listen.” She looked between Paya and her slate hesitantly, an unspoken permission requested.

Paya nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Impa, I can look after you now. Wouldn’t you like to stay longer? We need you.” Her young voice felt foreign to her in Impa’s presence and she experienced a sudden nostalgia for when they used to work at the Castle, an entire era ago.

A soft chuckle escaped the feeble woman and she squeezed Zelda’s hand a little.

“You are all quite well equipped. I’ll not be having you point that thing at me.”

Zelda leaned in, “Impa, please don’t say that. Purah knows how it works now. You could just have half again, even a quarter. I can’t lose you.” Zelda’s breath became shallow and she started to feel frantic. If Impa was gone, it was one more piece of her life ripped away without her control.

“I’m tired, dear. You have to let me go.” Impa smiled and her tattoo started to glow faintly.

Zelda looked to Purah, who appeared confused, and then to Paya, who was suppressing a panic. She knew what it was and white-knuckled her hands against her chest as tears started streaming down her cheeks.

“Paya? What’s happening?” Zelda asked fearfully.

“Gram- Gramma, no. I’m not ready,” her voice broke and she held Impa’s head gently, leaning over to touch their foreheads together.

The blue became stronger between them and Impa whispered, “You are, my child. You are...”

Zelda felt Impa’s hand go slack. “No, Impa. Impa! We can save you, please!”

The clatter of the slate felt like it could be heard across the village when Purah dropped it and lunged for her sister. Impa’s body became a blue energy that broke across the room as Purah cried, “Impa!”

Link stared in awe at a scene he was all too familiar with. A Sheikah, having fulfilled their duty to Hylia, finally being able to return to an essence.

Zelda started shrieking and he rushed to her, holding her tight and letting her sob into his chest. When the light faded, Zelda’s golden radiance remained, but it offered no warmth.

Outside, Dorian heard the screams and held his position stoically as he stared across the village she loved; the village she had welcomed him into, despite his past and his betrayal. A few tears escaped his rugged features. She was one of the greatest souls he ever knew.

The day after next, residents gathered at the graveyard and a fresh stone was added. It looked out of place next to the other well worn and moss covered ones. Impa’s had the Eye of the Sheikah carved in its face. Zelda stared at it for an age and at the same time, felt like she was staring at nothing at all.

After another two days of cultural observations and preparations, Paya was ready to be presented as the new spiritual leader of Kakariko. Zelda blessed her before the statue of Hylia and then kept to herself during the following festivities. She retired early and bade Link to follow.

Once back in the house, she said to him, “I need to leave.”

He nodded in understanding. “Ok. We’ll leave.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What should we tell everyone?”

“That I’m going on a pilgrimage.”

~~~

A few days later they made it to Gerudo Town. Riju couldn’t hide her pleasure from the surprise visit, but the mood quickly turned somber when she found out why. The Chieftain offered Zelda a place in her chambers and silenced Buliara’s protest. She would not have a dear friend grieving away in a hotel, protocol be damned.

As much as she tended to defy her right hand’s strict adherence to the rules, she did appreciate that Buliara was always there to remind her of what was done, and what was not done. That way, she knew when she was making an informed decision to do whatever she pleased.

Zelda accepted her offer and hid in Riju’s chambers for days, cuddling the sand seals and moping. When Riju finished her duties, which were more often pushed aside than not so she could try to offer comfort, Zelda remained flighty about discussing her pain.

Link came by occasionally to check on her but Zelda would have him turned away. It was a hard thing to do because she knew she was hurting him, but she needed to get him used to being without her. Since the moment Impa died, she knew what she wanted. And that was to leave. She needed to leave the past that was weighing in her heart like a black hole, devouring all of her present and future into its guilt ridden depths. Hyrule held nothing for her but regret.

Just as she had been doing every evening, Riju asked Zelda if she wanted to come down and join her for dinner. Until now, she’d been politely refused, but tonight, she was pleased to hear something different.

“Could we take dinner here, in your chambers?” Zelda asked from her lounging position on the sofa. She had a Gerudo text in front of her, mildly interested in learning the modern colloquialisms that had developed since she spoke the language with her mother and Urbosa.

“Well... of course, I see no reason why not.” Riju held one arm in the other and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Is there something you wish to discuss?”

Zelda gave an expression somewhere between conviction and a half smile as she appeared to work up the courage. “Yes.”

“Say no more.”

They conversed well into the night and found a familiarity that was comforting when Riju said, “You know you’re welcome to call me Makeela.” She became nervous when that caused Zelda to fall silent.

Finally she spoke, and Riju’s stomach felt weightless at hearing her name on Zelda’s lips.

“Makeela, I have been wanting to ask if you’d be willing to help me with a serious undertaking.” She placed her fork on her plate and dabbed at her mouth with the napkin, having only finished a third of her meal.

“I would help you in all endeavors. My resources are yours to command.” Riju took a sip of her wine and played with her braid.

“I wish... no.” Zelda looked at her feet because she did not want to see the hurt she knew this would cause her dear friend. “I need to leave Hyrule.”

Riju’s butterflies plummeted and she tried to keep her composure. “For- for how long?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a few years. Maybe forever.” She worried at the fabric of her sirwal but kept her resolve.

“I- well- a trip like that takes weeks to prepare. It is not the usual season that we cross the desert.” Riju stood, placing her unfinished glass on the table and left for the doorway. “I’ll have to see if we can spare the resources.” She frowned, unable to hold in her disappointment any longer. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

After Riju left, Zelda exhaled a low sigh and slumped in her chair. She downed the rest of her and Riju’s wine and crashed, unaware of the Chief’s return later that night.

Riju was also already up and gone the next morning. In her place was Link, glaring at her from the sofa. Zelda imagined he was trying to be intimidating but with a large stuffed seal sitting next to him she could only laugh.

His face faltered to one of pleasant surprise as he hadn’t heard her laugh in so long, but he regained his resolve and began his interrogation. “When were you planning on telling me your designs for crossing the borders?”

She wasn’t immediately forthcoming.

“Zelda, I swore an oath and by Hylia I will keep it, but... I have things- and people that I would need to see before going on a pilgrimage like this. I’d appreciate being part of such a big decision.”

Zelda’s humor had faded and she braced herself under his perfectly justified onslaught. “Well, you’re not.”

“I beg your pardon?” he stood up and crossed the room, taking on an imposing figure; quite a feat considering what he was wearing. He loomed over the edge of her trundle bed against the sandstone wall of Riju’s luxurious chambers.

She looked up at him challengingly, “You aren’t coming.”

“What does that even mean?” he spluttered.

She rose to meet his face and squared her jaw. “It means you are staying here so you can deal with the people and things you need to.”

He was about to protest having his words thrown back at him but she continued, throwing a finger in his face, “No, you should start living your own life. All I have ever done is take from you.”

His features softened to concern, “Zelda, that’s not true.”

She walked past him to the alcove of the terrace and looked out at the morning bustle. “It is, you just don’t remember. You fulfilled your destiny Link. You should be free of me.”

“I would never abandon you.”

She heaved a great sigh and closed her eyes. “Just... just promise me you’ll at least think about it?”

He hovered for a moment before acquiescing. “Fine.” He then swept down the stairs in a mood.

She imagined he would go and brood. Probably going to climb one of his mountains. “I’m sorry, Link.”

~~~

Riju had become somewhat distant since their evening meal but she assured Zelda that preparations for the caravan were underway and expected to be completed the following week. Initially, the lead Gerudo desert scout was not keen on leaving during an off season, but once she found out that Hylia’s Blessed would be with them, she agreed. As per tradition, there was a festival of worship held before a large trade journey to entreat the Goddess of the Sands and the Seven Heroine ancestors to bless their travels across the barrens.

As the sun set, the decorative lanterns strewn about the main square started glowing different colors and swaths of shimmering, patterned fabrics hung from the stalls and palm trees. Drums began to play as the party who had set out the previous day to provide offerings to the Seven Heroine monoliths returned to take part in the festivities. Once they had completed a prayer they were given the first servings of food and drink. Travelers who were fortunate to be within the town at the time were enthralled when the announcement was made in Gerudo, “You may begin!”

Zelda leaned against a palm tree, absentmindedly tracing the pattern on some of the draped fabrics when she noticed that dancing had begun. She was suddenly reminded of when she was little, watching beautiful women in vibrant colors, hips undulating and slitted skirts swirling hypnotically. Her mother had danced this way with Urbosa and she’d drawn Zelda in, twirling her between them. She was filled with an intense warmth and an incredible sadness all at once and almost left to return to her quarters when she saw Riju.

She was in the middle of the dancers, hair wild and free, draped in a teal sirwal to match her lips. She found Zelda staring and smiled dazzlingly. Riju kept her gaze steady on Zelda for the rest of the dance, only when she turned away would it be broken and then their eyes would lock once more.

Once it was finished, a new drum beat started and the denizens joined in, knowing it was now open to everyone. An overly confident Goron even jumped in, wiggling joyously and taking extra care to not knock anyone over.

Riju bounced over, breathless and elated.

Zelda smiled, “Makeela, that was amazing, I didn’t know you could dance.”

“An offering to the Goddess of the Sands. Anyone can join in now. Come join with me,” she held out her hand, bracelets jingling melodically.

Zelda hesitated for a moment, remembering the joy she felt dancing so, so long ago. She then placed her hand in Riju’s and allowed herself to be transported. If only for tonight.

The beat was energetic and the movements were such that they were mostly apart, Zelda trying humorously to get her hips swinging the same way; but when they came together, the warmth of Riju’s hand would cause a shiver of excitement to run all the way to her toes and she was thankful that her blush was hidden by the exertion.

Teal and white swirled through the crowds, long red and golden tresses whipped as they spun. They were constantly laughing, apologizing to those they bumped into because they only saw each other. For a few moments, Zelda felt happy.

The next couple of days passed by in a bit of a haze. Zelda had finally emerged from Riju’s chambers and explored Gerudo Town one last time before her trip. Her heart was heavy, now burdened with the prospect of yet even another loss, but her resolve remained.

She partook in various activities to try and distract herself from the waiting, and even indulged at the Oasis. She melted away during the treatment but the moment she was back outside shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she saw a familiar Hylian vai waiting for her. The weight in her stomach returned and she stole herself for what was to come.

She approached him, indicating that she was ready to have it out.

“I have done as you asked,” he said flatly.

“And?”

“I’ve decided to come with you.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose before looking at him. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else.”

As they moved away, a stall holder scrunched her nose in disappointment.

When they reached a secluded space between some sandstone walls and storage crates she surprised him by outright apologizing. “Link, I’m sorry. The way I spoke to you before... made it sound like you had a choice.”

Confusion and anger crossed his features and she continued before he could speak, “I’m going and you will build your own life here like you always should have been allowed to do. I’m ordering you to.”

“But- my oath. I must keep you safe-”

“You can’t even remember taking your oath,” she spat impatiently. It was cruel. But he needed to be convinced. “If you wish to be beholden to oaths, then I, Princess Zelda of Hyrule, hereby release you of your duty and order you to live your own life.”

“You are my only life,” he said softly. “Zel, you’re all I’ve known since I woke up.”

She was caught off guard and speechless for a few moments, then reached out to his shoulders and pulled his forehead against hers, closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Hylia always takes everything from her Hero.”

He wrapped his arms around her and they shared an embrace of kinship only known to the souls of the past who also bore the pieces of courage and wisdom. When she pulled away, her brows furrowed in pain. “If you won’t be parted from me for your own sake then I need you to do it for mine.”

“What do you mean?”

She sat on one of the crates, the rejuvenating energy she regained at the Oasis already drained, swallowed up by her distress. “I don’t think I can heal here. Everything reminds me of my failure and the losses I have sustained. With Impa gone, I just... I can’t anymore. I need to be free of this place and everyone in it. Including you.”

He knelt before her and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “At least take them with you, just in case,” he entreated.

She opened it tentatively and faltered, shaking her head. It was the photo of the two of them with the Champions. He’d kept it with him all this time.

“No,” she refused kindly, placing one hand on her heart and holding it back out for him. “I have them here. You need this more than me.”

On top of everything else she regretted, Link had never regained his memories. She had occasionally tried telling him stories of their lives, but it always became too painful and eventually he stopped asking.

He nodded and returned it to its place in a pocket against his breast. He then drew the Master Sword from his back and held it horizontally before him. They regarded each other sadly and she tilted her head forwards to acknowledge his ceremony.

“I, Link, Knight of Hyrule, renounce my sworn duty to the Crown Princess... at the behest of my dear friend, Zelda.”

She smiled through a chin wobble and nodded her thanks, unable to form words.

He stood and sheathed the blade, a fleeting thought crossing his mind that the next leg of this pilgrimage would be returning it to its resting place in the Korok Forest. He drew her up into hug and stroked her hair. “I’ll miss you.”

A tear dropped onto his shoulder and she let go to hold his face, realizing it may be the last time she looks upon it. She kissed him. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”

He nodded once and then slipped away as her hands fell back to her sides, scrunching her sirwal.

~~~

Zelda returned to Riju’s room and stood numbly for a few moments. She didn’t know what to do with herself and listlessly looked around. She nearly decided on diving into the stuffed seals but then spied the inviting pool close to the foot of her bed. She would wash. Just wash the whole day away.

She perused the shelf of bathing accoutrements as she tied up her hair and picked a few promising items. She dropped two large rubies in to heat the water and an aromafizz that smelled of lemongrass. When the bath was bubbling away, she shed her clothes, folded them neatly on her bed and stepped in, sighing with pleasure. She settled her head on a folded towel at the edge and tried to think of nothing while playing with the ruby under the water. The bubbles had come up a lovely pale yellow and she balanced some on her knees, making little wobbly peaks.

Not long after, Riju came in and exclaimed, “Oh, what a perfect idea. Mind if I join you?” She was already taking off her headdress before waiting for an answer and when Zelda managed to squeak a yes, she started leaving a trail of shoes, top and skirt all the way to the water.

Zelda knew that public bathing was common place for Gerudo but she still politely averted her eyes until Riju was under the bubbles and situating her large braid behind her neck to act as her pillow. Once she was finally settled she let out a big sigh. “Yes, this is just what I needed.”

They relaxed in a companionable silence for quite some time, before Zelda oddly felt compelled to talk about what had happened. She opened her eyes and looked over at Riju. “I sent Link away today.”

“What?” Riju jerked her head up so quickly that her braid fell into the water.

“Sorry,” Zelda exclaimed but Riju waved away her concern.

“Why did you send him away?”

“He should be living his own life, not tethered to me anymore.”

“But who will look out for you when you cross the desert? I mean, on occasion a Gerudo will stay, but usually just for one rotation-” she suddenly looked hopeful. “Does this mean you are not going?”

Zelda stared into Riju’s eager eyes and her resolve faltered. “I- I’m not sure.” The sudden and seemingly permanent departure of someone who had been by her side for seven years made her long for closeness. And Riju clearly cared for her. Did she also, in return?

She started to play with Riju’s braid under the water, removing the tie and unwinding the tresses. Riju closed her eyes in pleasure, feeling the gentle tugs like a scalp massage. She leaned forward and with a wet, soapy hand, tamed one of Zelda’s fly aways before letting her nails glide down her cheek onto her neck. Zelda shivered under her ghostly touch and her lips parted as she gazed at Riju through half-lidded eyes.

“Makeela,” she said softly.

Riju drew the small woman into her chest and kissed her tenderly, as much a comforting gesture as it was an exploration. Zelda yielded to her and caressed her shoulders and neck, deepening their connection. Her hands started to glow golden and Riju gave a start at the sensation, pulling back in surprise. “What is that?”

“I- I honestly don’t know. My power- but it has never done this before.”

Riju raised a curious eyebrow. “Have you ever done this before?”

Zelda spluttered and Riju laughed playfully. “Come here, I’ll give you something to glow about.” She winked.

They were in each other’s arms every available moment Riju had over the next two days. Things felt easy between them. So easy, that assumptions were made. And conversations that perhaps should have been started, never were.

Until the morning of the trade caravan.

Zelda untangled herself from Riju’s limbs and slipped out of bed to start packing. She had already planned what minimal items to take. Just the essentials that she would need for the road and plenty of money to be able to get herself started on the other side. She kept sparing guilty glances over at her lover’s sleeping form. She should never have allowed herself to indulge. Her moment of weakness was going to break this woman’s heart.

She sighed and went to collect some breakfast. When she returned and set her things down on the table she saw Riju was sitting up in bed, staring at her bag. Her brows were furrowed and without looking at Zelda, stated, “You’re packing.”

Zelda stood still awkwardly before answering, “Yes.”

“But we- Zelda, we’re together now. I thought...” She trailed off, the growing pain evident in her voice.

“Come and have breakfast.”

Riju threw the covers off and approached angrily. “Nothing’s going in that won’t come straight back out. Explain!”

“Makeela, I told you that I need to leave-”

“That was before any of- of-,” she gestured between them, “this!”

Zelda reached for Riju’s hand, not knowing how to reconcile her new feelings with her truth. She knew she still needed to leave. “Why not come with me?” she suggested foolishly, knowing that it was impossible, but holding a faint hope that somehow, Riju would say yes.

Riju let her anger flare, unable to understand the selfishness. “Unlike you, I can’t just leave my people,” she spat, pulling her hand away.

Zelda appeared as if she’d been slapped and Riju immediately regretted lashing out.

“Keela,” Zelda said softly, lip trembling, “all my people are dead. I can’t... I can’t escape my past.” Her eyes began to sting with tears. “All those years, in that thing,” she heaved, suddenly looking frightened. “I don’t know who I am anymore.” The dam burst and she shuddered.

Riju enveloped her into a tight embrace from which Zelda derived no comfort, lost again in the darkness of a hundred years. Her tears fell golden and a light grew over them both, Hylia trying to heal her broken heart.

“Everyone is gone. My family, my friends. Purah is different, and Robbie is also not long for this world. And Impa, she wouldn’t stay. I begged her! I’ve lost Impa,” she wailed.

Riju was horrified that something she said caused such a visceral reaction. She lifted Zelda’s face to her own and wiped her tears, staring frantically into her eyes, “I’m sorry, Zelda, I’m so sorry. You have me.” She kissed her and a tear rolled down her cheek, emotions now taking them both. She pulled away to search Zelda’s deadened gaze. “I love you.”

Riju leaned in again, softer this time, and she felt a slight pressure of return just before Zelda put her hands over hers and lowered them from her face, ending the kiss.

“I... I wish I could say it back.”

Riju’s heart plummeted and it showed, though she tried to hide it.

Zelda squeezed her hands. “It’s not that I wouldn’t. I just... I can’t love anyone else until I learn to forgive myself. I have felt nothing but pain and regret since my escape, no matter what I try. Please-”

“It’s ok, I understand. Just promise me you’ll be safe.”

“Hylia is with me. And now you will be, too.”

~~~

For @aviatordame

#breath of the wild #fanfiction #whump #angst #character death #smol fluff #zelda #riju #link #paya #impa #purah #escape #snidgetwidgeon scribbles

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

Text

Where Time Takes Us

Destination - Part 1

- - - - - - - - - -

Watch the home while she is off to war

The Slumber King versus the rearing boar

Awake, arise, do not be blind

To tales and destinies entwined

In the world we said that we would leave behind

— excerpt from folk song, The World Behind, writer unknown, dated back to the Era of Myth

- - - - - - - - - -

6 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days before the Hyrule Castle Slaughter, the Akkala Citadel Massacre, the slaying of the Champions, the death of the hero, and the rise of Calamity Ganon...

Her job ends on doomsday.

She should be working, and truly she wanted to, but circumstances had led her to walk towards the echoing laughter.

Already trying to prepare the quip she would throw back at them, (as undoubtedly they’d complain about her being late again), the researcher weaved through the familiar roads of West Castle Town. Most of the houses were dark, with the only light source coming from the occasional flickering lantern, and the pale complexion of the midnight moon. Needless to say, it made the warm glow of The Adequate’s Tavern stand out all the more as she approached.

Another roar of laughter and shouts escaped from an open window on the south side of the pub. The bags under her eyes curved with her smile as she recognized one of the voices. She absentmindedly traced her fingers along the outer walls of the tavern as she walked, loose chips of faded blue paint falling to the pavement below. The wooden sign above the door creaked with its askew weight. The Adequate’s Tavern was printed in bold, blue letters atop a faded yellow outline. The missing e’s and t’s gave evidence to the building’s true quality.

Pushing open the door, the researcher was met with a swirl of familiar scents, ranging from alcohol, apples, bread, and leather, along with a smokiness coming from the fireplace near the back of the bar.

Closing the door behind her, she walked through the entrance, passing under a wooden overhang, and alongside a long, stone-slated bar counter. She overheard a conversation between the barkeep and a waiter.

“Yes, they’re here again, so get out there already!”

“The scientists?” the waiter asked.

The man started shoving her towards the storage door behind the bar. “Yes, yes, now hurry up and stock up on that apple cider. I’ve already turned four full pitchers from the three of them, and the fourth is no doubt on the way. We can turn a bigger profit from those kids than any random alcoholic that stumbles in here tonight!”

The waiter disappeared into the back, and the barkeep was left muttering by the counter. Chuckling to herself, the researcher moved away, starting to search for the scientists in question. Other than a single, beige wall that separated the edge of the bar with a support beam in the middle of the room, the pub was very open and lively. Square and circular tables were littered across the floor in mismatched patterns, ranging from oak brown to birch white. Clearly, aesthetic was not the centerpoint of the place.

She walked about the pub, scanning the faces of the men and women alike who crowded by the booths and tables. The tavern mainly housed a sea of Hylians, who let out the occasional drunken laugh, or hearty chuckle. It was a miracle she could hear her thoughts at all, as the air was rich with the sound of clattering dishware and the patter of dancing feet, as in a small corner to the left was a semi-circle stage housing a small band. A Hylian man with umber dark skin, much like her own, blew away at a Lurelin-made, seashell harmonica. To his left, a blonde woman extended her arm in quick and elegant strokes with a bow and fiddle. Two others struck away on small drums and bells, and the playful gig they performed had gotten several people up from their feet to dance for Hylia knows how long. The music wasn’t terrible, but she had heard better, from a certain Sheikah in particular...

As if fate had read her thoughts, she finally caught sight of her friends.

It hindsight, it was easy enough to expect the bard to be at the table closest to the stage. Yet, it was probably the three heads of cloud white, Sheikah hair that gave them away the quickest. A young teenage boy sat across a square table from two other Sheikah, a boy and a girl. He was looking at nothing in particular, as he plucked away at his lute, presumably tuning it. Wrapped around his head was a small cluster of green wooden beads, woven with brown string. They dotted like a line of stars in his fluffy, white hair, alternating between pine and sage shades. The knot tying the strings and beads around his head hung loosely like vines just by his right ear. He was just asking to look like a starstruck, homeless traveler, if it weren’t for the bright red cape pinned across his shoulders. The golden, Hyrulean emblem holding the crimson cloth together signified his status as an important worker of the palace. Although, no one would be surprised that this thin, skinny teenager was a bard and court poet, and not a royal knight.

Suddenly, the bard looked up and met her gaze, a pair of warm, red eyes catching the light of familiarity. He patted the empty seat next to him and said something to the other two Sheikah in front of him. One of them looked back, a young man with storm wild hair that seemed to part like lightning. He had a beige, long sleeve coat over a red tunic, as was the classic Sheikah style. However, the style of his white jacket told of his rank as a scientist. With chocolate eyes and a contagious grin, he nudged the girl next to him and fake coughed.

The young woman wore roughly the same outfit, although she had a navy blue skirt and boots compared to the other guy’s black pants and shoes. Her eyes were also red, albeit, with a more striking scarlet color, compared to the other boy’s warmer wine shade. Looking back, she adjusted her bright, Sheikah red, round, sparkly, diamond decorated glasses, complete with white accents that matched her hair. It was pulled in a messy bun, a hairstyle that her close friends knew was less for looks, and more for practical purposes, as supposedly, “the stupid strands always find ways to bother my eyes. No, stop, I don’t need a comb! My eyeballs are just sensitive, okay?”

Pivoting past a waiter, the researcher finally moved closer to the trio, brushing her curly dark hair above her shoulders as she prepared for the sarcasm to begin.

The stormy eyed scientist spoke first.

“Purah, Purah! Is that...a ghost I see? It looks like Adello, but I feel like I haven’t seen her in a century, I surely thought her dead! Am I being…haunted?”

Purah turned in her seat and gave a fake gasp. She adjusted her red rimmed glasses at the sight of her. “You’re right, Robbie! I’ve heard about these spirits. They only come at midnight under a full moon, and they appear when you have friends that don’t know how to time manage and haunt you by coming to your birthday party with their terrible fashion sense 45 minutes late!” She clapped her hands along with the syllables of “45 minutes” to let her point be known.

Robbie awed at Adello in sarcastic wonder, and the boy across from him exhaled out of his nose with a smile.

Adello put a hand on her hip. “Save your breath, I was just working a bit overtime on the Divine Beast sketches. You know, work? For the jobs that we all have? So we can pay our taxes and shit? Unfortunately, not all of us have fancy salaries Mrs. Royal Scientist.”

Purah turned to Robbie, pulling down her glasses and looking at him sternly. “See, this is another trait of these kinds of spirits. They’re cursed to only say excuses for eternity.”

He shook his head. “Coupled with the fact that their fashion only ever consists of one color? Truly, a terrible fate for a ghost indeed.”

Adello narrowed her eyes. Smoothing out her juniper colored tunic, she said, “Okay, first off, green is a great color on me, it pairs well with my skin tone. You’re both just blind, no wonder you need glasses.” Purah put a hand on her chest dramatically, but she continued. “Plus, I’d really rather not get fired since that ceremony thing with those Champions is tomorrow and, as you all know, I just got that promotion.”

The researcher propped a black leather boot up on the empty chair by the table, flipping her jet black hair dramatically. “How does it feel to be in the presence of someone with an actual on-the-field career?”

Purah stuck out her tongue, and Robbie cupped his hands and booed. However, the boy sitting on the other side of the fourseated table gave a celebratory strum of his lute, giving Adello’s pose a bright background flourish with a few upbeat chords.

She winked. “Thank you Zimiri, at least someone can recognize skill.” The bard gave a little bow with his head, grinning. “A few chords is all it takes to enhance a dramatic, late night entrance.”

Adello chuckled, finally sitting down in the empty seat beside him. The old oaken chair and floor creaked under the new weight. Robbie let out a huff.

“You kids need to learn to respect your elders.” He announced the word “respect” with the tip of his tongue. The researcher rolled her eyes.

“Ah yes, a whole one year gap between us. What astounding age and experience that these elders emit.” She gestured at Robbie and Purah with a sweep of her arm.

“Uh, excuse me, but I believe in my case it’s now double that. A whole two years, my dear, naive child. For as of 4 hours ago, I now emit the knowledge of an existence spanning two decades!” Now it was his turn to pose dramatically, pointing towards the ceiling.

Everyone at the table groaned, turning to occupy themselves with something else. Purah started writing in her journal which she pulled out from her satchel, and Adello started to become very interested with the ceiling. Zimiri continued to pluck nothings on his lute.

Robbies crossed his arms, his white long sleeves folding across the Sheikah red shirt underneath. “Oh I see! So when Adello brags, she gets a musical accompaniment, but when I do it, it’s suddenly annoying and embarrassing?”

Adello smirked to herself, and answered, “Yep, that’s how it goes!”

“Alright, you don’t get to speak, Miss I-don’t-know-how-to-be-punctuation!”

Purah promptly smacked Robbie over the head with a pen.

“Hey! W—”

“The word is punctual, you idiot.”

Robbie slumped his shoulders and made a face. He tapped his thumb and fingers together, mimicking the opening and closing of a mouth while he muttered mockingly in Purah’s tone under his breath.

Purah finished off a note in her journal before turning to the rest of the table. “Alright Adello, time to catch up. We’ve been playing ‘Till You Spill and I’ve already got some juicy stuff in here!”

Turning the pages of her journal towards Adello, she gave a chaotic grin. “Last round, Zimiri revealed that he once got teary eyed in front of the King himself after reading a poem about clouds.”

Zimiri raised his hands in defense. “Look, the clouds were an analogy for lost childhood innocence and I got choked up with that author’s amazing choice of imagery and descriptions, okay?”

Purah pointed her pen at him to hush, and continued. “Of course, him being a sentimental dork isn’t anything new, so he lost that round to Robbie who revealed the identity of his first crush.”

Zimiri muttered something about the game being rigged towards the birthday boy, but Adello talked over him, excitedly.

“Ooohhhh? Robbie?? Who are they?” She propped up her elbows and cradled her chin in her hands, excited at the prospect of more embarrassing information she could hang over his head.

He mumbled, looking to Purah for assistance, but she only cupped a hand over her ear, waiting for him to respond. “You all fuckin—” he sighed, “it’s…she’s…c-ch…” he avoided everyone’s gaze, “her name is...Cherry…”

Adello gasped, gleefully. “That girl from your old university?? The writer you hung out with!?”

Purah beamed, shaking Robbie’s shoulders excitedly. “I know right???” She loosened her grip and allowed him to wiggle out of her grasp for a moment. “Oh sweetie, campus days may be long gone for all of us prodigies and geniuses,” she flipped a few strands of her white hair with a turn of her head, “but I’m sure you’ll get her someday. You just gotta turn up the charm, find a way to woo with words. I’m sure writers love that.” Purah pulled down her glasses and gave a forced wink at him.

Adello tried to hold her tongue to no avail. “Pffft. Yeah, you can try wooing her with your punctuation.” This got a snicker out of Purah, and caused the birthday boy to blush furiously and slump further in his seat. Zimiri finally spoke up.

“Now, now, let’s all play nice. We don’t need to pester him further about it, he did win the round after all.”

“Uh, yeah. Speaking of the game, you still need to drink up, mister.” Purah slid a tan brown cup of apple cider towards him, the translucent contents sloshing around like muck in a gutter.

He leaned on the back two legs of his chair. “Isn’t it punishment enough to smell it? The cider isn’t even near my face and my mouth is already burning.”

She shrugged. “Them's the rules of ‘Till You Spill. Your secret sucked, so swig!”

The poet groaned, but complied. Tipping the cup towards his lips, Zimiri took a hearty slurp of the cider, much to everyone’s amusement. It felt like hot, molten copper mixed with old apple skins. How could something both burn and freeze your throat at the same time? He let out a gag, to which Adello patted him on the back with a short laugh.

Raising his posture, Robbie crowed, “When we finally have Zimiri’s birthday maybe then we’ll actually upgrade to the alcohol.”

Adello raised an eyebrow. “Uh, right, because the upgrade from disorientingly strong, smelly apple cider, is you two being flat out drunk. Right...”

Purah slammed both her fists down with pride, letting the cups and pitchers slosh a few amber colored drops onto the worn wooden table. “Bold of you to assume I’d drink at all, considering I’ve never lost a round! Mwahaha!” She blew a raspberry at her. “This tongue is apple free, baby.”

She gestured with her pinky and index finger at Zimiri and Adello. “Now, you two! The late combatant and the latest loser shall spill next. Give us your juicy gossip!!”

The bard, still reeling from his drink, leaned back in his chair and gave a nod toward Adello. “Ladies first?”

While she wasn’t undefeated in this drinking game, she sure as hell was playing to win. Especially since somebody needed to knock that smug expression off of Purah’s face. Adello thought to herself quickly.

Zimiri, no doubt, is probably gonna say something self-deprecating again, as he’s too nice to actually reveal anything embarrassing about anyone else. So...I just need to say something unexpected and interesting...perhaps something embarrassing about...hmm, I’ve already exhausted all my info about those cushy nobles and guards in past rounds…

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “The princess has a secret stuffed animal collection.” Seeing the light in her co-workers’ eyes twinkle, Adello knew she had chosen her words well. Purah leaned in. “Ooh? And how did you come across this juicy piece of information?” She rested her chin on an arm with an innocent smile.

“When I sent my application for the new job a few weeks ago, I gave it to the princess directly. It was late at night, and I bumped into her as she just left her room. The door was cracked open for a few seconds, before some royal, pompous guard slammed it right in my face. Yet, it wasn’t before I saw the pile of,” she counted on her fingers, “cow, sheep, bird, dog, and several horse stuffed animals piled high by her big, blue bed. I bet if I peeked for just a few more moments I could have found enough to pin her as a true horse girl.”

Robbie shrugged his shoulders, unconsciously rapping the table with his finger. “Well, speaking as a horse guy myself, I can attest to the fact that the childhood horse obsession phase never leaves, so I find Princess Zelda’s collection quite admirable.” He gave a nod towards Zimiri. “Either way, it’ll be tough to top that, Zim. Cute, yet slightly concerning, fact about our future queen? Quite the competition. Shall I signal the waiter for a refill now?”

Zimiri plucked a few more strings from his lute, before finally setting it down on the floor. He tilted his head, playfully. The string with sage green beads seemed to sway with the tavern’s music, and he spoke with a glint in his eyes. “Well, I might be faced with impending failure and ultimate defeat, but hells if I’m not one to try instead of mope.”

He combed his fingers through his messy, white hair, pondering his next choice of words. Fiddling with the beads and strings wrapped around it, he thought out loud.

“Let’s see...to top out on an embarrassing fact about a respected princess...it's natural to combat it with something...personal? That always seems to be the more valuable information in this game…” Adello shook her head. He was playing right into her hand.

“Well...Robbie won last round with the identity of Cherry...so, how about I dish out something similar. See, I’ve...uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh! Well. Court poet, shrine researcher, the job gets you close with the princess...kinda...I’d like to think we’re close anyhow…” He mumbled the last part of his sentence and let out a short cough. Then, he went back to fiddling with his short, messy hair.

“So… ever since I moved into the castle, When did my mom move… five years now? I’ve, uh… had a crush on... Zelda…” He gave an uncertain grin, and raised the palm of his hands as if to ask, “well?”

At first he was met with silence. In his head, he started to celebrate the victory of his first ‘Till You Spill round in literal months. That was until he was met with groans and pitiful mutters.

“Oh Zimiri,” Purah sighed, “I was rooting for you too.” Seeing the bewilderment creep onto the poet’s face, Robbie answered the question before it even escaped his lips. “Literally everyone here knew that bud, it’s not a secret.”

The bard started to sputter, moving his hands in wild, questioning motions.

“But? Wha— I? You!? Didn’t you— I… W-Well I mean, I know Adello knew, I told her years ago, but you guys—”

“Oh my gods. Zimiri, you literally talk about her all the time, you’re totally in love. Given that we’re also the recipients of your long spiels and ballads about how ‘intelligent and thoughtful and amazing Zelda is,’” Purah said the words to mimic the tone of Zimiri’s honey sweet voice, “it’s exceptionally, extremely, very, very obvious.”

“R-Recognizing a person’s positive traits doesn’t instantly mean in love!”

The royal scientist leaned across the table and patted his head. “Right, but you also started attempting love songs a coincidental 2 weeks after starting your job of shrine research with her. Your eyes are already red, so whenever she passes by it’s like your pupils magically form into adoring hearts. Try to stay away from poker, it’s for your own good.”

Zimiri continued to sputter, his cheeks becoming roser by the second. Robbie turned to Purah. “So, all in favour of finding Adello’s spill better than Zimiri’s?” The two of them raised their hands in unison. “Alright buddy, secret sucked, so swig! WAITER PLEASE!”

Adello watched as the same woman she had seen near the bar earlier made her way to the table. Picking up a pitcher, she poured out a fresh cup of Adequate’s Apple Cider. The four of them had been here so many times, they didn’t even need to verbally ask for the order.

Before he could even start to reach for the cup, Adello snatched it out of the way. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll do one for you, Zimiri. These two monsters have already tore you to shreds, and I’m sure I need a punishment anyway for coming in so late.”

He started to protest, but after catching the look in her dark, iron eyes, he relented. “Well, I thank you for your generosity.” The other two, however, were not as compliant.

Purah cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling, “Booooo... Boo to pity! Boo to generosity!” Robbie mimicked her.

“Yeah you have to respect your elders’ wishes. We demand blood! Suffering!”

Adello cracked her neck for show, before downing her glass of cider in a few gulps. The stench and tingling sensation seemed to stick to the sides of her throat. It would take more than water to clear that out. “Adequate” was being very generous when describing its quality.

“Mmmm. The cider’s weirdly salty tonight, I think your attitudes got mixed in here.”

Purah blew another raspberry at her.

They played for a few more rounds, the clatter of cups and breaths of laughter decorating the hours. Much to everyone’s distaste, Purah continued her winning streak, getting by with unbeatable information about the King, royal guards, and one embarrassing anecdote about how her little sister, Impa, had caught her writing an interesting letter to the “local archery hunk.”

Yet, Purah laughed along with the rest of them, the eyes behind her red rimmed glasses held no shame, which Adello envied. Of course that sort of attitude would make you a master at this game. Robbie and Adello attempted to team up and be biased towards Purah in an effort to get her to lose, but either Zimiri didn’t take the hint, or he just really liked playing fair which wasn’t exactly out of character, even if it meant more drinks for him.

Suddenly, a bell towards the back of the pub rang, signifying the end of the band’s gig. The dancing paused, as people gave their thanks, varying from politie applause to drunken yelps. Robbie then rapped the table with his hands, excitedly.

“You know what else tonight needs? Some amazing music, eh Zimiri?” He bounced his eyebrows up and down at him, and gestured towards the lute leaning on one of the table legs.

“I don’t know,” Zimiri replied, “I’ve only a part-time hire for the weekend rush hours, and I wouldn’t want to blindly get on stage and sing without being given permission.”

Adello scoffed. “Uh, are you kidding? The owner would love for you to play without paying you. Haven’t you heard the talk around town? The Adequate’s Tavern: Home of alright food and acceptable ale, but an outstanding bard!”

He fiddled with the string in his hair again. “Oh yeah? I’d love to meet him someday.” At this, Adello clicked her tongue and promptly shoved him out of his chair with her hip.

He laughed to himself as he stumbled aback. “Alright, alright, but only because the birthday tyrant requested it.” Robbie clapped his hands in a “chop-chop” fashion, to truly signify his role as the newly dubbed tyrant.

Suddenly, Zimiri perked his head. Stepping back towards the table, he reached for his cup. “Oh wait, I just lost that round. I still need to drink my—”

Adello grabbed the cup right out of his hands. She tipped it 180 degrees and let the cider spill completely onto the wooden floor. He hopped back, and Purah let out a surprised yelp, saying something about letting the stench seep into the floorboards. Robbie just started to laugh, wildly. Noticing the small commotion, a few other guests looked back at them and started to snicker to themselves.

Setting the cup back on the table, the researcher said, “Great, now you don’t need to ruin your voice any longer. Now get up there and one-up the last band.”

The bard pushed his chair under the table. Picking up his lute as he stood and faced Adello, a charming smile on his face. “Heh, well. My singing voice is grateful. I suppose now I’m in debt to comply.” He gave a curt bow.

Robbie clapped his hands again. “Great, great. Now quit the manners and let’s go already! I still have to order the cake pie!”

Both of the girls rolled their eyes in unison. Zimiri shrugged and started to walk through the small crowd of standing Hylians, and towards the small stage.

A few of the regulars who recognized him let out whoops and whistles, yelling out “Bard!” or “More music!” in support. It seemed that no one really knew his name, but it was nice enough to know that even working here part time would grant you the honor of being recognized by a bunch of random folk. One confused patron, who only associated him with “z” yelled out “Yeah, Zelda!” before promptly slumping under the table. Looking around, a blonde girl caught his eye, as it seemed she was staring at him. He waved, and her cheeks, much to Zimiri’s confusion, turned pink at his gaze and she turned to her friends who started giggling.

Moving past the last of the Hylians with an, “excuse me, sorry!” he finally stepped on the stage. The bard pulled up a small stool to the stage, leaning against it. Most of the folks continued to whoop in approval, seemingly eager for another chance to start dancing. Even the barkeep clapped his hands, probably excited at the thought of a free gig.

I guess, if no one is stopping me…

It was a rowdy bunch, but not a new one. Zimiri had played for these kinds of audiences before.

“I see that quite a few people are itching for a new tune. So, uh, any requests?” he announced as he strum a chord on his lute.

A mass of different voices bounced around the tavern, requests ranging from The Babbler’s Jig, Misko’s Tale, The Eldin Bluffs, and Can I Get More Ale? Although, Zimiri wasn’t quite familiar with the chords of that last song.

He couldn’t stop himself from being biased towards the request of a certain dark skinned girl to his left.

“The World Behind!” Adello said. “Enough with those new ballads, I demand a classic!”

Robbie pumped an arm in the air. “Yes!” he shouted. “I second that! So is my decree as birthday tyrant!”

The bard smiled, preparing the fingering on the neck of his lute. He turned towards the audience. “Well, I’m afraid I have no choice but to heed to such authority.” He began to pluck the beginning notes, tapping a tempo with his boot against the stage. “Now then, a beat, if you all would be so kind?”

The tavern chattered in approval, before piping down. There probably weren't more than 30 people, but the beat they made was definitely sufficient. The sound of stomping, banging mugs, and clapping filled the room. The tempo didn’t even need much adjusting, as The World Behind was pretty familiar around Castle Town. The beat was like a child pretending to be a marching soldier, unconcerned and playful.

Zimiri’s smile widened. A lively crowd indeed, this will do nicely.

With that, he started to sing. His silvery voice echoed across the tavern, as he closed his eyes and began to play.

The boys have gone out to the wishing well

Will they come back? Oh only time will tell

A rupee for a life refined

But time and dreams never align

So tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Many of the guests had started to dance again, while the rest continued the beat of the song. As Zimiri plucked rapid notes on his lute, he heard a supporting holler from Purah. Next to her, Robbie was slamming his fist to the beat, clearly enjoying himself.

Have you seen the soldiers’ drinking ale?

They wish to sing along with nightingales

To dance on home with songs and rhymes

To banish all the fears from mind

Yes tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Another pause between the verses, and the bard played the “decorative” rapid notes in between. He didn’t mean to seem like he was showing off, but Adello would attest to the fact that this happened whenever he got too into the music. Looking towards her, Zimiri saw her give a double thumbs up.

Of beasts and men and all atrocities

The damn-ed fate, she owns all that you see

To a better day of new design

Forgot about the gods divine

Oh tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

At this point, some of the guests were singing along, though not to the point of overpowering his own alluring voice. Laughter rang out around the warmly lit room once again. Zimiri looked out at the dancing patrons and smiling guests, grinning at the feeling in his chest this brought. He continued the last verse.

Watch the home while—

“HEY!”

The sudden gruff voice startled the bard to the point where he nearly slipped off the stage.

Lumbering through the double doors, three guards entered the tavern. The one in front, who had interrupted the music, wore a typical knight’s outfit, the same as his male and female coworkers behind him. However, the black hooded cape he wore atop his metal armour swayed with every step he took across the floor, his supposed rank silencing the room.

Well, mostly, silenced the room. A few ticked off guests were booing, groaning, and mocking him for ruining the entertainment.

“Oh would you lot shut up for 2 seconds?!” he said, his voice booming across the tavern. “Listen, I’ll be blunt. I gotta give two messages for this establishment.”

The guests shook their heads, mumbling. Their booing and insults continued, but their volume quieted, it was too early to be getting cross with a couple of knights. Even Zimiri quietly slipped off the stage back towards his friends so as not to be at the end of the knight’s intimidating voice.

The female guard behind the knight handed him a slip of parchment. Unfolding it, the guard cleared his throat.

“Firstly, your music and pounding is disturbing the noblemen next door. He’s staying at the inn or something and wants you to, quote,” he read from the paper, “quit the mindless thumping, for Castle Town is a place of serenity and peace, not of nonsense jigs and banging.”

The groaning and insults started up again; the man gave a shrug, stating something about how he was just following orders.

Adello couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “HA! Well, with an attitude like that, this’ll probably be the first and only time he’s been banged— he should be grateful.”

The room exploded into a mess of laughter and whoops. Even the guard smirked to himself, but attempted to hide it with a shake of his head, saying “Watch the mouth, girl.” Although, his stern tone wasn’t in it.

After a second, he cleared his throat again. With a stomp of his boot he regained the pub's attention, the laughter suffocated out.

“Now, we’re also here looking for a Dr. Robbie Kimura? I received word they might be around here?”

With the attention now towards a single table, most of the guests went back to their idle banter. A few waiters nodded their head towards the table in the back, and the man caught sight of three, white haired teenagers, who were sitting with the dark haired girl who had quipped out earlier.

The scientists turned around too late, in an effort to avoid the knight’s gaze. “Gee, what a bunch of snitches,” Robbie mumbled. The three guards started to walk over to the table.

“Dr...Robbie?”

“Who’s asking?” Robbie squinted with his dark brown eyes.

“Doctor? Really? Is this some kind of prank? You and your friends don’t even look old enough to drink.”

He scoffed. “Okay, first, yes I am a doctor! I didn’t fly through all those courses over four years just to be called, ‘Mr.’ And secondly, I’ll have you know that I am a ripe 20 years of age today, and I’m here drinking expired apple juice with my associates. So take that, pal!”

Beside him, Purah gave a proud nod in agreement. Zimiri started to wave politely at the guard, but Adello grabbed his arm before he could finish the movement. The guard was a bit unsettled with the way that girl was glaring at him. What was some random Hylian doing hanging out with a bunch of Sheikah anyway?

“Right, well, look here, son. Some curious aristo-brat snuck into the courtyard and caused one of those flying, metal Sheikah things to fall apart. My boss said that it was your prototype so you should come back and clean it up before something explodes, and possibly give a sincere apology to the meddling kid who got a few scratches.”

Robbie threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re really gonna pull me out of a birthday just so I can go apologize to a spoiled kid for breaking in and ruining my Guardian?”

“If it lets me keep my job, then yeah.”

Robbie mumbled something about not getting a slice of the apple cake pie.

Suddenly, Adello got up and pushed her chair in, smoothing out the belt around her tunic as she walked towards them.

“Ah yes, well, thank you my dear assistant for the assessment but I’m capable of taking it from here.”

The guard raised a bushy, black eyebrow. “Sorry, wha—”

“You said you only wanted Dr. Robbie? Well great job, you found them. Now let’s get going, I need to finish up a new design anyway.”

“You’re...Robbie? You’re a... clearly not—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have had my mother consult you for your opinion before I was given my name.”

This time, the guard didn’t smile along with her quip. “This is not the time for—”

She held up a finger to silence him, and glared at the three guards with her iron eyes.

“Look, I’m not a nobody. I’m more than capable of fixing up the guardian and any other disasters you might have left lying around the castle grounds. If I’m feeling generous, maybe I’ll even lick the kid’s boots, it’s not my first time dealing with this, alrighty?”

The knights looked at each other, quizzically. The researcher crossed her arms.

“You’re still following your precious orders, aren't you? How would you know what Dr. Robbie looks like? You can’t be faulted for not knowing someone you never met. So, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

The blonde man behind the gruff, black caped guard, whispered something to his female coworker. Her gaze switched between the girl and the man. Still seeing the uncertainty in their eyes, Adello leaned closer to the knight and lowered her voice. “Come on, have a little heart, it’s his birthday.”

A beat of silence sat, only filled by the mild mumbling and chatter of the tavern. Finally, the guard let out a sigh.

“Alrighty Dr. Kimura. I’ll help escort you to the site.”

Robbie started to protest, but Adello quickly silenced him with a wink. The guard turned towards the rest of the room, yelling, “The rest of you, the sun is gonna rise in a few hours so save your rioting for then! Am I clear?”

The patrons just responded with stupid groans and half-hearted agreements. They started walking towards the door. The female guard started to put a hand on Adello’s shoulder, but she brushed it off, saying something along the lines of “I can walk on my own two feet, thank you very much.”

Purah turned in her seat. “I’ll save a slice of cake pie for you!” Adello turned her head and responded with a two fingered salute, before disappearing out the door with the guards.

The tension in the tavern was almost immediately cleared, the moment the knights left. Most of the people went back to their normal conversational volume, and the waiters began to patter about with more confidence. However, Zimiri slumped in his seat, letting out a sigh.

“Why does she always do things like that?”

Robbie fiddled with the edge of his cup, tracing his finger around the rim. “Well, you know her. Undermining authority? Check. Insults and quips? Check.”

Robbie continued to list off more traits, but it faded out of Zimiri’s ear. Always jumping onto other’s burdens. Ah, that idiot. I bet she hasn’t slept for the last two days.

Purah suddenly piped up, taking out her pen and rapping it against the table. “Alright you two, let’s not let the sacrifice be in vain. Pool your rupees, we’re getting Robbie the fancy cake pie.”

The clatter of a few red and blue rupees echoed on the wooden table, although Zimiri knocked Robbie’s share aside, saying how the birthday tyrant shouldn’t have to pitch in. Purah turned in her chair and started to wave her hand, in order to get the attention of a waiter. The bard watched as a woman with a tray started to walk over to the table. Then, he turned to Robbie.

“So what should we do while we wait?” Zimiri asked. Robbie stroked his chin, looking around the room.

“I think...the people could still use some music.”

Looking out at the crowd, Zimiri noticed how the guards' interference had really dampened the atmosphere. The warm and lively laughter that was present just a few moments earlier was now replaced with more monotone chatter.

He nodded his head in agreement, putting on a charming smile. The place needed a new pick-me-up, did it?

Well, what else is a bard for?

Stepping back onto the stage, he strummed an open chord, double checking the tuning. The whooping and clapping started to return, much to his delight. Plucking a familiar melody, the warm feeling in his stomach returned as he watched the new smiles that started to fill the room. However, before he began to sing, Zimiri first focused on craning his neck to look out a window, trying to catch a glimpse of a certain girl in the night.

It seemed the moon and sun were balanced on the edge of the world. The night had started to submerge behind the walls of West Castle Town, with only the brightest stars still perched upon the ink of the navy blue sky. The silver lining of greying clouds just barely glowed from the faint light of the day, still trying to break out of the eastern waters.

Adello’s footsteps echoed through the cobblestone streets, but she could barely hear it against the shifting of metal plates from the guards in front of her.

The gruff man looked back, scratching his peach fuzzed chin as he spoke. “Listen, if you finish your work quick I might be able to escort you back here.”

Adello shook her head. She turned to retrieve a journal from the pouch on her belt, opening its pages as an excuse to avoid his gaze. “No, it’s fine. I still have some more work I should be finishing up at home anyhow.”

“You...live at the castle?”

“Mmm.”

The guard took her blunt response as a sign to not continue with the niceties, much to Adello’s relief. Looking up, she gazed at the looming castle. Its towers were like mountain peaks, sitting above the blurred silhouettes of the buildings of Castle Town.

Taking out a bit of charcoal, she started to sketch its outline on a fresh page in her journal. While she only had one color, she tried to capture the shadows and lighting that cascaded on one side of the castle to the other.

The female guard slowed her step, starting to walk alongside the researcher.

“Already working?”

Adello didn’t look up from her journal. “Uh… you could say that.”

She laughed. “Well you best hope you know what you’re doing. This kid’s father has been yelling at Her Highness all night. Supposedly because she’s helping to lead Sheikah research, so everyone associated with guardians is at fault.”

Adello finished up the tower of Princess Zelda’s study in her sketch. She smiled to herself at the finished work. It was one of her better pieces. Putting the journal away, she turned back to the guard and scoffed. “Is that so?”

The guard hummed a yes, her blonde braid swaying to each side as she walked. “Apparently, the kid is the son of some visiting nobleman from the East Post. It’d be in your best interest to apologize profusely if you still wanna walk around alive.”

Adello shook her head. She didn’t know it then, but looking back, many moons from now, she would laugh at the irony of her response.

“I’d rather die.”

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw fanfiction #where time takes us #botw oc #adello #zimiri

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strugglingtoast · 4 years

Text

Wildflower

Chapter 4

Upon stepping out of the vortex, the heroes all needed a minute as it had been a bit disorienting as the landscape shifted before it finally settled on a forest with varying colors of orange. A gentle breeze blew over and a single leaf smacked Wild square in the face. Grabbing the leaf, he could help but feel mesmerized and soon entered into a trance like state.

Looking behind, Wind noticed Wild staying rooted from where they all stepped out from the vortex. “Wild? You coming buddy?”

The others all turned around and saw Wild not removing. Various callings were placed and the child still stayed rooted. No response. Just intense staring at the leaf in his hand.

“Oh boy,” Twilight said. “I don’t think he will be responding. He is most likely recalling something at the moment.”

“Should we stay here and set up camp?” inquired Hyrule. “I don’t think Wild will be present for a while. Besides, I don’t think this is anyone’s place as there has been no claim.”

Legend crouched down beside Twilight. “That leaf sure is interesting, huh brat.” A gentle smile crossed his face only to frown as Twilight shot him a small smirk. “For the love of Din, let’s go find a place. And bring him along.” Legend kicked his legs to get a stretch in and started walking off towards a mountain side in the hopes of finding a cave. Rain seemed to be imminent.

One by one, the boys walked towards the direction their fellow companion walked off. Gently grabbing Wild by the arm and guiding him, Twilight was relieved that the young boy was following, despite his attention still on the leaf. “Heh… that really is an interesting leaf, huh cub.”

------

“Heh, that really is an interesting leaf, my boy.” Raen noticed his son looking in awe of the red orange leaf. Link was adamant on taking a souvenir for his beloved sister and made his father carry him on his broad shoulders to get a particular leaf. Link would not have any other.

“It’s like fire! Red and orange. Like Ilé. Big firey meanie.”

“Come now, Link. Your sister is a little meanie.”

That earned giggles from the boy who walked beside him, small hand grasping his and the other small hand clutching the leaf.

“I know my sister will like it. I should have gotten mama a leaf too, but I think I know what I will get her.” Link let go of his father’s hand as he ran off a little ways off the trail to pick three wildflowers, little orange poppies. “There! I think this would be good. What you think, papa?”

“I think all four are wonderful. Your mother will most certainly love them.”

“Four? Papa… I think you forgot how to count,” Link replied as he counted his small bunch. “There are only three.”

Smiling at his son, Raen spoke, “Ah, but you forget that you are our little wildflower as well, hm. So you have three in your hand plus you.” Raen lifted his son high on his shoulders as the little boy let out a squeal of laughter.

“Careful with my leaf and flowers, papa!” came the light demand.

Both just laughed under the greying sky.

Seeing the small home in the distance in Castle Town, Link bounced excitedly on his father's shoulders. Raen made sure to grip his son’s legs before the boy fell once more like the last time. Stepping inside the house just as it began to rain, Raen let his son down and went to kiss both his wife and daughter hello.

“Mama! Ilé! We went to Akkala today!” came the excited chatter of a young boy. “It was so prettiful! I even was able to find something that reminds me of Ilé. And I got something for your too mama!”

“And what exactly would that be, little brother?” interjected his sister. “A warty old frog? A cranky Lizalfos?” Ilé stated as she was hunched over imitating a lizalfos.

Laughing and shaking his head, Link brought out his poorly concealed gifts for both of the people he thought of.

“Here! Oh… wait. You first, Ilé. This leaf is for you. It reminded me of you and your hair. Papa said that it was a good choice.”

Gingerly taking the leaf, Ilé looked to her father who was chuckling a little.

“Your brother made me lift him up to a particular tree in Akkala so he could get you that leaf. He would take no other. There were many similar ones at the base, uncrumpled or maimed, but he insisted on this one. Link sincerely hopes you like it.”

“Oh father, Link, thank you. I love it. Let me put it in my book with the other pressed flora. I’ll be right back.” Ilé turned to her little brother and gave him a small peck on the forehead as she turned down the little hallway.

Rubbing at his head, Link then turned to his mother. “Here mama! I got you some flowers!”

“My little wildflower! You shouldn’t have.” Taking each individual wildflower from her son, Adele began to count. “One, two, three, and four! So lovely! I adore this little flower the most.” She grabbed her giggling child and peppered kisses to his face.

Setting her son down, Link booked it to the lower cabinet under the sink to pull out a vase for the flowers he picked. Adele placed them in and was about to take them until Link walked off with them so he and his sister can put water inside.

Upon finding his sister, he brought the vase and set it on the desk. Just being in proximity to his sister, Link felt a huge amount of heat radiate off of her.

Wait… that didn’t seem right. Link tried to reach out to his sister, only to be repelled by some unseen force and somewhat pulling him back. Soon the walls began to speak in hushed tones.

“So what should we do with the name situation?”

-------

Reality began to warp back as muffled voices soon crescendo and slightly echoed around a small cave. The rain a gentle patter joined along with the ambient noise.

“So what should we do with the name situation?” Warriors asked the others.

Slowly coming around, Wild realized he was sitting near a fire, Twilight acting as his pillow. Wait. How did he come here? He remembered he was in the forest and now the sun has long been replaced by clouds and drizzling rain?

“Did I sleep or something? Because I could have sworn we were in a forest not too long ago.” Wild said as he righted himself from Twilight’s side.

“Well,” Wind grabbed his attention, “You were just not there when we came out of the vortex. So We just brought you here. And in good time too! It started to rain as soon as we stepped inside this cave.”

“And then you were going to touch the flame,” added Twilight. “So of course I stopped you. And here you are now.”

“Do you remember anything?” inquired Warriors.

A wrinkled frown and pursed lips, Wild kept trying to remember. Nothing was coming up. “Nope. I just remembered stepping out of the portal and seeing a real nice leaf. Where is it anyways?”

Four pulled the leaf from a scroll. “I got it for you. You accidentally dropped it and I figured it was something you’d want to hold on to; considering how longingly you looked at it.” Just as Four was about to hand the leaf back, Wild shook his head.

“You should keep it. Consider it as a gift from me.”

Taking the leaf and putting it back in the scroll, Four was secretly happy to have received a small gift. It may seem meaningless to some, but to him, it was really thoughtful. The color of the leaf was truly beautiful and Four would be lying to himself if he didn’t want to ride that leaf down a river.

Leaning back and getting comfy on Twilight, Wild let out one small yawn. “I am really tired. Can I sleep?”

Choruses of yes and of course were uttered and the rain soon lulled the young boy to sleep.

He felt what could be hands run in soothing strokes at the top of his head as he was pulled even more under.

“Good night, Wildflower.”

“Night… mama.”

Everyone else sparred a glance at one another as soft snores filled the cave. As time passed and the sounds of the drizzling rain, along with the popping of the wood from the soon began to have a sleepy vibe that started to affect everyone else.

Giving himself a good stretch, Time addressed the others. “I think it is best we save the names for tomorrow.”

Murmurs of agreement resounded from everyone and soon everyone started to get settled for bed.

----

Before Twilight was fully awake, he felt a comfortable weight on top of him. While it was welcomed, there shouldn’t have been anything on him. His armor was taken off and his sword and shield were leaning against the wall of the cave behind him. As he put his hand to rest on his chest, he was met with something hairy. Well, that can’t be right. His fur cape was draped around Wild. Unless…

Opening his eyes, Twilight was met with blond hair near his face. Slightly lifting himself up as not to disturb the small figure laying on top of him, he realized that this was not his fur cape, nor his weapon and shield on top but a small hylian boy. As he looked around to the others finally awakening, all sleepy eyes soon gained their attention at the sight.

Four was the first to ask. “Did… Did he go smaller? He’s so tiny! His clothes no longer seem to fit…”

As Twilight tried to adjust himself more, small hands clutched to the fabric of his undershirt and the small body pressed against him as a grumble left the boy. Twi’s heart was leaping with glee at the gesture. Wind brought him out of his musings.

“I guess you need to resign to your fate, Twi, you can’t move.”

“I guess I no longer can.” A rumble of laughter left his chest as the jostling slowly woke up the small boy.

“Ugh. Can’t you guys be quiet?” Wild slightly demanded. As he was settling back to and snuggling the warm body underneath him, he quickly pulled away and fell off with a resounding oof. Lifting his hands to his face, Wild realized that the fabric pooled around his elbows. Looking down at his pants, he realized that they were tossed aside and obviously too big for him to be fitted. The shirt was the only thing keeping him decent. “Damn it all. Again?!”

----

“So… How old are you?” asked Wind.

“He looks no more than three!” Legend added incredulously.

“Possibly even two.” Added Sky.

Warriors studied the young boy even more. “I don’t know Sky. I would say two is pushing it a bit. Four seems to be a more appropriate age, honestly. But he is pretty small.”

“I was a pretty small child when young, that I was often mistaken for another age ” piped Four, “So honestly it isn’t that bad.”

Sniffling slightly, Wild responded, “You’re only saying that because you’re short yourself.”

That comment did sting just a little bit, but Four didn’t dwell on it for too long as he was aware that this was just a small slip that he didn’t mean. Quickly thinking of another excuse, he said, “Look at it this way… you can explore a little more in areas you were too big to fit in before.”

“Well, you are right,” Wild said.

Four dismissed the frowns he received from Legend, Time, and Twilight. What? He had to make the child feel a little better at least. Sure, he gave him plenty of ideas, but how hard could… wait… “But you can’t go anywhere by yourself,” he justified.

All Wild gave was a ‘are you serious’ look. “I may be four years old at the moment, but I am over a hundred years old, just so you know,” he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“So… wait. You’re four years old? How do you even know?” asked Sky.

Looking at him, Wild thought for a little bit. “I dunno know. Something tells me that I am.” Before he could add anymore, his stomach let out a growl. Wild became extremely embarrassed and hid behind his hands.

“I guess that’s a signal that we should all eat,” said Time. “Good thing we stocked up before leaving.” Time looked to Wild, “Normally you would have done the cooking, but I think we can all help pitch in to cook. Don’t give me that look. It will be just a simple meal of omelettes. As for your clothes, we need to do something about that.”

“I can at least stitch the clothing to fit it a bit more into his size. The pants can be cut into a sort of shorts or something. It will just not be professionally done, especially since I do not have the proper thread nor scissors.” Legend looked at the amused faces around him. “What? You know you have got to be ready for anything. Don’t want to run into people with holes in your clothes or something.”

And that was how morning had gone. By the time the afternoon had rolled around, Wild was already in good fitting clothes. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to pass off as wearable until the opportunity to find more better clothing was presented. Wild wasn’t complaining though. He was pretty happy and found himself hugging a surprised Legend.

“We should get going soon and find a village or town,” Time started, “But we do need to discuss a matter though. Impa said that we should all come up with names rather than be referred to our titles when in the presence of strangers. And I would have to agree.”

All were in deep thought and all was in silence until Wind was the first to speak.

“Oh! Oh! I know mine already! I want the name Mew Mew. It will be short for Bartholomew. Or you can just go with Mew. But I am sticking with that name. None of you can have it.”

“Uh okay… Well, I guess I will be going with Hugo since my name already begins with an H. Nice and simple.” Hyrule felt every content. “Who’s next.”

Twilight looked around the cave and waited for a bit in case someone wanted to speak, but no one did. “I guess I will be going with Ezio. I heard one of the people back at my village name their eagle that.”

“Well I want mine to be Axl because it sounds pretty cool if you ask me,” Legend satisfyingly replied.

But Wild innocently added, “But that sounds like asshole.”

Warriors couldn’t help but crack a laugh at that. Scratch that. Warriors was down right cackling. Gasps of breaths were trying to be gained back as Warriors weakly gave Wild a thumbs up and a half-hearted pat on the back. Wiping his tears away and calming himself, Warriors finally regained his composure with all smiles. “Oh, boy. You really did me in Wild.” Legend just grumbled to himself that he thought it was still pretty cool and rolled his eyes. Coughing and trying his damndest to not resume his laughter as he also tried to avoid the disappointed and unamused face of Time. “Just… uh skip me for now please. I’m not ready.”

Sky cleared his throat as he grabbed the attention of the others. “Soren sounds very nice. So I will be going with that.”

Four spoke next. “I think I will go with Ezlo. In honor of a dear friend of mine.”

Time had his already picked out. “I believe Reinhold is fitting for me.”

“I guess a wise ruler does fit you, oh wise unofficial ruler of the group,” snorted Warriors.

With a small smile, Time responded, “I’m not going to be high or mighty, maybe. Have you thought of something yet?”

Warriors just shook his head. “Nothing at all.”

“I already got mine,” Wild cut in. “I want to go with… uh… wait. Let me remember.” There was a couple seconds of silence. “Ilé. I don’t know why, but it just sounds so familiar. But it won’t leave me alone. Plus, I like how it just rolls off my tongue.” After a few more seconds of silence, Wild looked at Warriors with an elated look. “I think you would be an Ignatius.”

“Ignatius? Where did that even come from? Ehhh… not really feeling-”

“Ignatius it is!” interrupted Legend.

“I, Mew Mew, dub thee Natia.”

“Even better,” Legend replied smugly.

Wild just happily nodded as Warriors tried to come up with something else. Bickering was heard back and forth between both Legend and Warriors with the others occasionally interjecting with their opinions and such.

Things were all packed and ready to go when Time turned to Wild. “Remember Wild, in the presence of strangers, we all go by the names we have chosen.”

“I know, I know. What am I? Two?” he just received a deadpan look from Time.

“Oi brat, you need to respect your elders,” Legend smugly replied. He ignored the glare the small boy threw at him.

“Wild, I will carry you on my shoulders since you have no shoes currently.”

“No, Twi. I want to walk.”

“But Wild,” Wind grabbed his attention, “You could step on a rock or something-”

“No. I want to walk and I will walk.” Wild marched out of the cave and walked ten paces when he stopped with a jolt. Turning, everyone saw small tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he muttered about a stupid rock. “I will only allow this to happen once.” He turned around and lifted his arms as a sign of acceptance for Twilight to pick him up.

Sitting on top of broad shoulders felt… nice. Just like dad’s. That thought was stopped. How would he know how it felt? As Wild sat there contemplating, a dark shadow caught the corner of his eye. Leaning to the side, Wild narrowed his eyes as he scanned within the trees. Weird. Must have been his imagination.

It was dusk when the lot had found a small village and paid their dues to the innkeeper and chose their places to sleep for the night. Wild decided to stay with Sky and Four for the night. He each took a hand and sleepily walked under the guidance of the two people he trusts.

Patting Twilight’s shoulder, Warriors reassured him, “Hey, you don’t have to worry so much for him. Not that I’m saying you ignore him. But we both know he will be completely fine. He is in capable hands.”

“I know… It’s just I worry that he can be erased from existence. I also worry about his memory. We all have bared witness on how it just bleeds through.”

"Hey, hey. Listen, he will be alright. Sure he regressed a little more than Purah did, but he's still there. All of this will be sorted out soon. And remember, we all are here to help one another out. Wild is in more than capable hands."

"Thanks Warriors. You're right. Goddesses be with us."

Both men walked off into the shared room as Twilight did one last glance back.

"Good night, cub." He whispered.

-----

Morning came just as quickly and both Sky and Four were awakened with the shouts of joy from one certain little boy.

“Yay! I’m still small! And not smaller!”

Groggily opening his eyes, Four looked Wild up and down. “Oh good. But you did seem to grow just a little more. Now you do actually look like a three year old. Oh, sorry, sorry. I mean you look like a real four year old.”

“I think you look adorable, Wild.” Sky rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Especially with the bedhead you are sporting with.”

“I am adorable and you all know it,” came the sassy reply. “And this hair just does a poof on its own. It’s not my fault you know.”

“Reminds me of my younger days,” Four nostaligaclly replied. “I had the craziest bedhead look ever. A hat can work wonders, you know.”

Shielding his head, Wild shook his head in a big no fashion. “No hats for me. I’m leaving. I want to go wake the others.” Putting on the rest of clothes, Wild padded outside and barged into the other rooms to wake the others.

Once the others got ready and had a small breakfast that consisted of honied apples and porridge, they finally packed up and asked to be directed to the village shop.

“So this village is Athege Village. I am certain none of us are aware of this place. I say we get Wild some shoes, restock in anything else that is deemed necessary, and just keep on moving.” Time looked around to see if there were any objections. Seeing as there were none, he proceeded to lead the rest into the village as Time took Wild and everyone else did their necessary shopping.

A small bell rang through the small shop alerting the shopkeeper from her musings in the back.

“Hello and welcome! How may I help you on this fine day?”

Time cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you have any children footwear?”

“We sure do!” the shopkeeper looked next to Time and saw Wild. “Well aren’t you adorable? You look like your father,” she sweetly replied.

“Uh… he isn’t my son...”

And without missing a heartbeat, Wild replied sadly, “Dad, I am your son. I’m sorry to have lost my shoes at the river. You always disown me when I do bad stuff.”

“Oh my!” the shopkeeper said very shocked.

“Ha ha...” came the dry reply, “I will definitely be having a word with you, young man. Just ignore him please. My brother is just like this. You know the saying… like father, like son.”

Not entirely convinced, the shopkeeper just left to go to the back and retrieve some shoes for her customers.

Being left alone, Time immediately turned to the young boy to give the biggest disapproving stare, only to be met with a mischievous smirk. “Wild, I swear to Hylia.”

“Sure, dad.” came the snark. “I know you ha- habor… habor… I know you like me.”

Before Time could reply, the shopkeeper finally came back with a decent selection of shoes. Upon seeing little brown boots, Wild had his heart set on them.

“I want those! Please! They are just like my old ones! Please?”

Nodding to the woman, she handed the boots off to the boy and watched with a smile as Wild just put them on. They fit perfectly. And they were comfortable as well. What more could a boy ask for? As Time watched Wild walk around and strut his stuff to the woman, he felt a warmness in his heart. Just seeing him happy made him want to keep it as such.

Wild reached for his slate, the woman taken aback from such a thing, “How much?”

“O-oh… uh… it’ll be 25 rupees sweetie. My, such a responsible young man! Your father must have taught you, huh?”

Time pulled out his wallet, “It’s okay, Ilé, I got it. And I would be the one responsible for that. My brother is not money savvy.”

Upon hearing his chosen name, Wild smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Uncle Reinhold.”

Leaving the shop with gratitude, Wild couldn’t help but show off his new boots. He would calm to anyone listening that they made him run fast as his feet felt light. He would run in the line of sight to any tree to prove his claim was to be true. Wild just was in pure bliss. His energy was extremely contagious and made everyone have smiles all around as they all were playing to be astonished with Wild’s claim of being ‘super duper fast.’

With the atmosphere lively and warm, Time felt a chill run down his spine as he looked behind him and around. He felt as if they were all being watched.

A twig snapping caught everyone’s attention, with the exception of Wild, who was still running around.

“Wild?” Twilight called, “come over here.”

Little footsteps came quickly and as soon as he reached Twilight, the others instinctively formed a circle around Wild, swords drawn and faces determined. Confused at first, Wild soon realized danger lurked nearby. He grabbed his slate and was about to draw out a weapon when a piercing shriek caused him to drop the slate and made Wild look up with wide eyes as a shadowy figure was launched in mid-air, preparing to strike.

Every hero soon lifted their shields to block the incoming attack. With the figure hitting both Warriors’ and Twilight’s shield, they both pushed back and made the figure topple over. Landing and twisting in such a way made the others form an even more tight knit circle. With Wild finally gathering his wits and grabbing his slate, he looked through his inventory to look for something suitable for him.

“Guys, give me an opening or something,” Wild grumbled to himself. He knew he was more than capable of doing things himself. He was, of course, ignored. Finding and pulling out a small sword, Wild looked around and saw a small opening between Warrior and Four. “Watch out!” Wild stuck out the sword and stabbed the creature that was running head on, causing it to disperse completely.

As everyone lowered their shields, Legend asked in disbelief, “That could not have been it. There has to be something else. That was just too easy...”

Warriors observed around, “I agree. That was just too easy indeed. But we cannot stay out here. Not sure if we should stay in the open or head into the treeline.” There was pushing against his leg.

“Move your big stinkin’ leg,” came the demand from the small boy.

“Excuse me? Me, my stinkin’ leg, and all of us kept you safe. It would do you good to stay.”

“I don’t wanna,” Wild insisted as he pushed more against Warriors’ leg. Just when he gave up after a few more shoves with no success, he was about to go push against Time’s leg until a ‘Don’t even think about it’ came from the man. “Just let me out! I can’t take it anymore!” When Wind and Legend parted a little bit, Wild pushed through and made a dramatic scene of gasping for air as if it was denied and restricted.

“Do not stray, Wild. We don’t know if that thing is still out there,” Time said as he observed the treelines.

“Okay okay. Can I just grab that cool looking stick over there?” Wild asked.

Everyone looked where the stick was at. Some had to strain their eyes to see the outline of the stick. How this boy could see that from this distance was a mystery. Unanimously, everyone decided to take the cover of the trees. Wild's eyes were lit with such happiness. He would finally get that cool stick.

It was cooler being under the shade of the trees. With Wild swinging his stick side by side and the others not too far behind him, all was well.

Until another twig snapped. All right had their shield and sword drawn in the direction of the sound.

Twilight called to Wild once more and the boy blissfully ran to him. Well… almost. A beetle caught the wild child's attention and he ran the other way, chasing it deeper into the forest.

Looking back, Twilight noticed Wild wasn't near them. He just saw the stick laid with abandon. Oh Hylia… this boy was going to be the death of him.

"Wild?" He called out once more.

No answer. A snap of more twigs and rustling caught his attention and Twilight was about to be on guard when a small boar came out from the bush.

As everyone relaxed, Twilight was already moving forward, yelling out Wild's name.

"I swear I just want to smack him," Twilight spoke to no one in particular. "Okay," he addressed the group, "Wild has gone missing and I am this close to just having him tied to a lead. Let's split up and cover more ground. We need to be quick as that thing can still be there."

Nods were given and the group split looking for the wild child. Hylia help them all.

When the beetle finally disappeared from sight, Wild was hit with realization that he was nowhere near the others. "Great Hylia above… I will be murdered." He looked around as the terrain was unfamiliar to him. He realized he was hopelessly lost. His ear perked a little when he heard the faint calls of the other. Maybe he wasn't lost after all. The young boy was filled with vigor and soon he ran towards the direction of the others.

Running through the brush and ducking under branches, Wild was fueled to run faster when he saw Time in the clearing. He only slowed down when Time made a disapproving stare at him. No words, just that stare. It was enough to make the young boy become filled with guilt over his actions

“I’m sorry. I just saw a cool bug and...” Wild just hung his head low.

Y̶͕͔̜̘͔̼̬̼̪͉̼̣̥͍͊̈́̈͑͜ö̴̜̦̳̦̙͓̟͉͍̗̠̺́̐̔̍̚͜ú̶̻̘͓̥͉̰͇̔͊̂̅̑̅̃̕̕̕ ̴͎̲̠̻̥̻͚̘̺̺̳̗̍̾͜f̵̢̡͓̤̤̫͎̥̪͚̗͑̊̊̑̇̎̇̉̑̏̿͜͜͝ô̸̜̫̯͓͂u̵͕͔̯͎͔̥̱̥̗̰̻̭͋͋̌͛̓̌͝n̷͎̮̓͂̓̀͝͝d̸̢̢̜̺͇̮͕͙͉̝̮̝̏̈́̅̍̀̈́̆͆̾̈́̿́́ ̸̨͔̝̫̹̱̫͔̓̂͗̓͜ͅm̸̧̝̜͈͖͔̝̎͗͝ĕ̴̹̥̲͍͎͚̭͆,̷̛̫͎̳͍̖͒̑̈́́̀̌̃̄̈́̄́͘̕͜ ̶̛̻̠̮̜̜̭͉̻̟̜͛̒̋̅̀͗͐̈́̌̋̽̆͜͠Č̵̬̳͕̦̘̻̱͚̯̥̻̹͐̾̒͂͌͌̒̓̔͛̈́͘͝h̷̢̬͙̀̀̂͆͗̓͆̒ą̴̤͓͍̫̳̘̹̖̌̈́́ͅm̷̛͚̐̂̌͋̾̌p̴͕͎͖͔̤̝͖̲̬͓̖̲̌̈́̿͂́̉̂ȉ̷͚̼̟̳̺͓͇͕͍͆̓͌̽̄̈́̄̈́̉̾̕͜͠͠ͅŏ̶̢̢̭̰̯͈͚̮̤̖̄̎͜͝͝ͅn̷̡̖̻͖̭͓̱̗̼̹͐͋̎̀͋͜

Immediately snapping his head up, Wild watched with horror-filled eyes as Time’s face started to twist and contort. The face became so warped, that it resembled nothing human. The flesh began to fall off as it revealed an inky blackness, as if malice itself gained a form.

Inhuman noises left out of the disfigured being. It stalked over to Wild. Wild took steps back.

Ć̸̨̧̛͕̱͓̟͚̖̥͙̠̖͉̋̈́̂̈́̈́͗͊͂̈͌̚ŏ̶̡̡̢͓͚͔̟̖͓̳͓̺̩͂̀̎̃̅͆͋̀̓́͘͘̕͝m̴̢͚͎͍̫̺̣͖̗̗̬̖̟̙̜͌è̶̛̛̬̆́̿̆̎̔̒̋̕͘̚ ̴̢̧̛͓̮̙̫͇̥̜͍̮̣̉͆̌̈̅̅̀͌́͝͝ͅͅn̷̡̙͉̙̖̲͖̥͖͖͚̑̈́̾o̴̝͇̦̩͖̠͍̜̘̮̗̩͗̽̌̎͛͝͝w̸̟͕͖͙̐̍̄̆́̌͒̈̄̀͘͜,̷̮̻̹͈̖̯̦̹͎̱̈́͌̇̀̌͂́ ̴̢̤̫͈̯͔̖͉͎̙̀̑͋̿̉̔̍̉̒̋͊͊͐͘̚c̵͚̩͆̓̈́͂̓̈́͊̅̌̎̎͝ḩ̴̡̡̢͍̹̼̟̘̮͔̅͑̀̓̐̒̕͝͠i̷͖͇̽̔͐͐͂̑͜ļ̵̢̹̩̝̯̜͖͈͈̜͙̙͇͌̄̓̀̐̈́̅̑̂͆̽͘͝͝ͅḑ̵̫̦̼̝̙̠͆.̸̖̮̣̝͈͈͍̦̥͎̠̼́̆͂̆̅̋̓̅̅̕͘ ̸͎̟̣̱̰̝̜͈͕͔̝̱͕̓̍͗̈͛̄̄̄̀͝I̶̢̡̱͍͎̙͉͉̘̘̱͇̺̍̆̓̄̏͂̔̈́̑͆́ͅţ̸̡̡̻̰̙̳͈̯͇̲̖͍̃̈́͑̊̾̋͒͠͝'̷̩̘̰̫͊͋̓̈̈́͌̄͒ş̶̦̲͍̰̲͗̾̅́ ̷̧̛͓̼̹͇͓͚̝͖̒̈́̐͋̆̄̀̈́̎͋͊̃n̴̡̲̤̪͕̮͕͍̬̬̅͌̑̈́͒̅͘��͕ǫ̸̛̪̘͖͉͚̀̑̀͛̑͋͗̿̂̂̍͝t̸̻̟̦̺̰͐̿̓̎́̔ ̷̡̻͎̜̖̟͉̪͈̺̦̰̪̭̱̇̽ş̸͇̫̉͂̑̾̏̑͌́͊̑͊͝a̴̡̛̯̫͔̜̦͚͆̉̉̍̽̌́̓̀͠͝͠f̸̖̟̹͈̯̼̪̯̀́͋̈͐̇̀́̽̿͠͝͝ͅȩ̷̩̝͚̪̙̩̥̪͋̓̊͊͂͂̅̂͒̅̿͋̚͠͝ͅ ̸̢̡̰͔͚̦̮͙̻̦̈̍ḧ̴̛̭̦̤̹̘̬͆̈̀́͆̅̍e̶̛̹͓͎̭̤̱̞̼̥̦̮͛̂̈́́͑̌̉̿̈́͆̒̓̈́̕r̸̛̭̓͊̓̐͒̐͜e̶̺͇̥̖̬̰̾ͅ

Quickly turning around and booking it from there, Wild covered his ears as a ear-piercing screech filled the forest. Wild felt like this was the fastest he ever ran. The stinging of the branches on his skin and the snagging of his tunic didn’t deter the young boy to stop. He kept on pushing through. His slate weighed him down a little, but there was no stopping him. Wild cared less about the slate slapping against his leg. The grateful thought to Legend securing it to his clothing was pushed to the back of his mind. For now, he needed to run faster. Whatever that was, it was not far behind.

The screech that filled the forest had caught Twilight in mid sniff. He was sure the others heard it as well and were on their way to that sound source. Wasting no time, Twilight hightailed it and ran. If anything, he knew he had to be quick to find Wild before whatever that thing did.

Wild ran through the trees, face, and legs a bit bloodied as the boy tiredly carried on. His lungs were burning and his legs were threatening to give out. Wild gave a quick look back and felt relief when he saw he was alone. Until he smacked right into something. In a frantic state, the young boy lashed out and a pain filled whine filled his ears. Recognition shown in his eyes as he realized he knew the creature before him.

Wild just hugged the wolf as he uttered apology after apology. A cold nose was just pressed on his face as a form of acceptance.

“I’m sorry, Twi! It was after me! It was-” Wild stopped himself. He pushed himself away from the warm embrace of the wolf. His eyes were untrusting. A twang of hurt flashed through the eyes of Twilight. What happened to his poor cub?

With rustling footsteps approaching once more, Wild was about to flee once more until he saw Time step out from the trees. Wild was frozen in fear. Running back to Twilight, he hid himself behind him. “It’s him! He’s after me!”

“Who’s after you, Wild?” Time softly asked as he stopped his steps. Why was this child staring at him in horror? “It’s okay, Wild, we’re here to protect-”

“NO! STAY AWAY!” the poor boy grew frantic. Wild felt the child in him surface. His more calculating and cool self was shoved away. Everything about this was screaming fear and Wild saw nothing but the horrid way Time’s face twisted and became misshapen. Despite Time’s face still intact, Wild had that fearsome image imprinted in his mind. There was such panic that Wild didn’t realize he bumped into the hylian form of Twilight.

He felt hands around him first, and then arms. Wild became even more frantic. The creature had gotten him. This was it. He would die all because he got distracted by some stupid bug. He continued to thrash about and scream and cry. His legs betrayed him as they were limp from a lack of rest.

“It’s alright, Wildflower. Papa is here.”

Wild stopped his thrashing as he just full on sobbed. His tears didn’t let him see anything as everything became a blur. He just knew he was held in a safe manner, comforting. He buried his face into the strong neck. A small scent of hay and sweat were comforting in the fact that Wild was familiar with the scent. Wild’s sobs soon died down and became sniffling hiccups. The boy did not dare open his eyes. He just buried himself even further and gripped tighter to the fabric of the person holding him. “Sa-afe w-with p--papa.”

Time just hugged the boy even tight. He felt the grip on his tunic tighten, only to slacken as the events leading up to this point must have worn the poor boy down. “I didn’t think he would put up such a fight with you.”

“He saw something, Time. Little kid actually packs a punch,” Twilight said as he massaged the sore spot on his jaw. He looked at the slumbering child in Time’s hold. “Sure fell asleep quickly. Do you want me to carry him?”

“No, no. This is alright. We should go find others. Open clearing is better. So we should just go back to the road we were on.” Time adjusted his hold. Despite the child knocked out from excursion, small hands still managed to maintain a grip on TIme’s tunic. Thinking over the fact that Wild had called him papa was warming to say the least. But truly, Wild must have said that in confusion. Poor boy was feral and wild with his thrashing.

A groan ripped Time from his thoughts as an inky figure stalked towards them from the trees. It was dripping a sort reddish black muck.

G̷̥̠͙̖͉̭̱͊͜í̶̛̛͔̠̰̬͋́͛͒̉̒̽̈́̔͒͆v̵̡̨̝̳͕͓̞̦̓̍̓́̂́̓̚ͅe̸̠̦̬͙͍͑́̒͆̊̃̏͐͋́̽̕͜͝.̴̥̥̘̫͓̠̮̝̐̈̂̍͗̔̆̒͆̑̀͆̚.̸͍̫̯͋.̸̡̡̡̮̜̯͇̼̖̼̪̝̌ ̷̯̟͙̻͍̜̓́̌̋m̷̨̧̨̝̬̪̦͍̟̝̹̱̱̒͆͂̕͘e̴̠͖̯̋̎̒͂̌̈͠͠.̵̘̜̒̀͒̏͗͐̄̓̓̀̈́͠.̶̨̳͕̙͉̼̩͉̯̠̼̀̎̑͂.̷̼̘̱͚͕̱̳̞͑̈́̍͗̀̍̑̀̎̀͠ ̴̛̬̝̲̦̼̦̥͈̊̂̏̉́̌̒̕c̸̠̘̠̻̺̙͉̗̬̬̫̗̀͗́͑͐͜ͅh̶͓̠̻̘͍̠̘̑̈̓͋ĩ̷̢̭̣́̃̇̈͋̃̂̊͗̔̋̚ļ̶͚͙̯̹̼̜̖̼̠̳̇͂͒̅͌̿͒̓̄̒d̴̮͌̑̂̓́̎̉́̊̎̕.̷̢̱̀̐͘̚̕͜͝.̸͔̗͔͓̫́̊̂̔̾̾̉͋̇͘̕͘͠.̸͎̪̹͈̞̮̥̠̞͆̓̎͋̎̒̽̕͜͝ͅ

The figure spoke brokenly.

Time just clutched the sleeping boy even more. Eye narrowing, “Over my dead body, coward.”

Twilight pulled out his sword, “Run!”

Time didn’t have to be told twice. Getting Wild to safety was a priority. The creature gave another shriek and was about to be in pursuit until Twilight blocked its path. Another shriek but mainly out of frustration from the creature. Twilight slashed out before the creature before it slashed out first.

----

The others soon all came together, out of breath as they ran to meet Time and the child he had on him.

Relief was evident on all their faces as they noticed Wild with his face buried deep into Time’s neck. Soft hiccupping snores were heard from the boy and Time just put a soothing hand on Wild’s back.

“Wait, where’s Twilight?” asked Wind.

“He’s with our screeching friend. Wild just kept on saying it was after him.”

“Will Twilight be okay? We should go and aid him, shouldn’t we?” questioned Sky. Just as he was about to walk in the direction of the screech earlier, another pained screech resounded and a small battle cry was heard not far off.

Just as the others had their hands on the handles of their swords, Twilight came out from a tree, slight anger evident on his face. “Bastard managed to slither away before I was able to deliver a fatal blow.” He gave his sword a good shake before sheathing it away.

“Did you guys get another good look at it?” asked Four.

Twilight stopped at Time’s side, staring at the slumbering boy. “Well for one thing, that thing was not just a shadowy figure. Nor was it solid. It had a goopy consistency. It did seem to ruin anything it came into contact with. Some of its flesh, if you can call it that, landed on me and gave a slight burn. ”

“He put up quite a fight,” Time added, “Thrashed about and managed to land a few hits. Kid’s got quite the arm. But he did manage to calm down some. I thank Din he was able to sleep through it up until now.”

“He became hysterical when Time showed up. It stung to see him react as that. Started to blabber that he was coming for him.” Twilight still felt that twinge of pain in his chest. He decided to not tell the others about the distrust Wild held in his eyes. “I was able to injure that… thing more, but I wasn’t able to kill it.” Twilight clenched his fist.

Warriors came up to him, “Hey, Twi, you did the best you could. You helped keep him safe. I think we should just keep on moving though. It is best to go back into the clearing. That thing may have gone away for now, but it’s better to not be in an area where ambush is possible. Not that we can’t handle it, but better to be safe for the sake of the child.”

As the heroes trudged along, Twilight looked at the sleeping boy. He slightly winced at the cuts Wild sported on his face and legs. But he was happy to see the child was in an easy slumber at least. Even though he made a vow, Twilight swore on his life that he would keep this boy safe. And he was sure everyone else would as well.

The sky got dark rather quickly. As the stars and moon acted as a light for those that traveled, Time stopped and observed his surroundings, a small smile on his face. “I know this place.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #toast writes #deaged wild #we in big boy territory now #I try my best at fight scenes #this was freaken long #but written as a feast for y'all <3 #there were so many places I could have ended it... but i just kept on typing away

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katedoesfics · 4 years

Text

Shadows of Hyrule | Chapter 78

Link quite literally slept through the next two days, only getting up when his stomach demanded that he eat. When his phone alerted him to a call or text, he lifted his head enough to check to see who it was from. Unless it was Mipha, he mostly ignored these alerts. He would have slept through the rest of the summer if he had the chance, but there was still one last thing he needed to; return the Master Sword. The Triforce on hand was a reminder of that. It was dim, but it had been pulsing softly ever since he and Zelda sealed Ganondorf away. He knew he couldn’t waste any more time, but a part of him was sad to part with the sword. It wouldn’t be there waiting for him, leaning against the wall in the corner of his room. As anxious as he was to get back to his normal life, normal life seemed rather dull.

Still, Link finally pulled himself out of his bed, and without a word to his father or his friends, he left the house with the sword and made his way back to the forest where he had found it. If it were still there. The last time they tried to close the portal, the forest seemed to have mysteriously disappeared with no explanation at all. This time, however, the forest was there, just as he had remembered it, seemingly waiting for the return of the Master Sword.

There was no voice to call to him, but he didn’t need it to guide him like he had the first time he wandered through. It was as if he had navigated his way through the bizarre forest time and time again; he knew the path like the back of his hand, picking his way over the brush, weaving in and out between the trees. He was unfazed when a fog crept in around him, but just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, and soon the forest opened up into the meadow. In the center, in the light of the sun, was the pedestal that homed the Master Sword.

Link looked down at the ancient pedestal, covered in dirt and moss. There was a deep slit in the center where he had pulled the sword six months ago. And now, it was time to return it, though it felt as if he were saying goodbye forever to a very close friend. He turned his gaze to the sword in his hand and let his fingers run over the blade. He turned back to the pedestal and before he changed his mind, he placed the sword back into its hold, pushing it in until it would not go any further. He kept his hand on the hilt for a moment, then pulled upwards, but the sword did not budge. He let a light sigh escape his lips, then worked off the string of the charm his father had given him and slid it into his pocket.

“ Goodbye, Master... Thank you...”

Link looked down at the sword and smiled. He saluted it casually before turning his back on it and making his way out of the forest. Once he was passed the treeline, he looked over his shoulder, expecting the forest to disappear. Though it remained, he was sure it would be gone soon enough, protecting the precious weapon that now slept within.

*****

When Link returned, Daruk, Revali, and Teba were waiting for him.

“Where the hell have you been?” Daruk asked.

“Yeah, way to ignore our texts,” Revali said. “Now that you got a girlfriend you’re too good to respond to us?”

“Yeah,” Link said. “Because those group messages were so important.”

“I don’t know how I got dragged into that,” Teba said. He sneered at Revali. “Why the hell did you add me to that?”

“But if you weren’t in it,” Link started, “you would have missed all those gems like.” He paused and fished his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through the messages. He grinned and pointed at the screen, reading the text out loud. “When someone says ‘hold your horses’ they are telling you to be stable.”

“It’s true!” Revali said. “I just realized that!”

“Were you high?” Daruk asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Revali said with a grin.

“What do you want?”

“We are here to discuss the official disbanding of Hyrule’s Champions,” Revali announced.

“Excellent,” Link said. “Just in time. I just dumped the sword.”

“Aw,” Revali said. “Now you’re not cool like the rest of us.”

Link rolled his eyes.

“Do you think you can handle the city this year while we’re off being awesome?”

“Don’t be like that,” Teba said. “You know he’s gonna miss us terribly.”

“We are the only friends he’s got,” Revali said with a frown. “Poor Link.”

Link shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“He’s got a girlfriend now,” Daruk said. “He’s already doing better than you.”

“But does he get laid?” Revali said. “At least I got laid.”

Teba snorted. “When was the last time that happened?”

“Hey,” Revali snapped. “I’ve been a little busy saving the world.” He turned back to link. “Speaking of the Yiga Clan.”

“No one was talking about the Yiga Clan,” Teba said.

“Look,” Link started. “I talked to him, alright?”

“And?” Daruk asked.

“And,” he said slowly. “He told me not to worry about it.”

“That’s exactly what they say when we should be worried about it.”

“He has it under control,” Link said. “We don’t need to be involved.”

“Maybe he’s the one with the Yiga Clan,” Revali said.

“Shut it,” Link growled. “I’m staying out of it. I trust him.”

Revali nodded. “Alright. Fine. If Mr. Hero says it’s fine, then it’s fine.” He wiped his hands together. “Won’t be our problem, anyway. Just remember, you’ll be missing half your crew. Don’t get into trouble. Or killed.”

Link smiled. “You take the fun out of everything.”

“I’m going to miss this,” Revali said, then shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll find someone in college to pick on.”

Link frowned. “You’re replacing me? I thought we had something special.”

Revali winked and threw him two finger guns. “Come on, men” he said, turning away. “I still got some partying to do before I gotta ditch this city.” He turned to Link over his shoulder. “Not you.”

“It’s fine,” Link said. “I’m gonna go get laid.”

Revali threw his hand up in the air, half of a high-five. “Nice!”

Teba shook his head and lowered Revali’s hand for him. “Come on, Idiot,” he said. “Or I’m ditching you to get laid, too.”

Daruk followed them out of the driveway. “I can’t believe everyone’s getting laid except me.”

*****

The rest of the summer went just as Hyrule’s Champions hoped it would go. They stayed out late and slept through the mornings, more often than not in each other’s company in one way or another, and usually with three extra tagalongs; Aryll, Riju, and Teba. They spent their days roaming the city or keeping the local restaurants open with their bottomless pits. And from time to time, they dropped by their favorite arcade, only to be chased out by the owner an hour later after an unruly game of laser tag.

And everywhere they went, they were recognized. Children ran up to the for autographs. Teens asked for selfies. Even the older crowd seemed to regard them with a respectful nod, despite the varying degrees of gossip and arguments that had ensued following the first media outbreak. And when it got to be too much for them, they escaped the city to the countryside, returning to their favorite lake with a case of beer.

But the summer quickly came to a close, and before they knew it, Urbosa, Daruk, Revali, and Teba parted ways with their friends to begin their first year in college. Urbosa moved south to the Gerudo region to study law at a prestigious college. Daruk went to Akkala to a school known for their boxing and wrestling teams, which he decided to get into, proudly stating to his friends that he would have to hold back, otherwise there would be no challenge for him.

And despite his father’s refusal to help get into college, Revali managed to follow Teba to a school in Hebra, stating that he would have a babe on each arm and a suit made of ‘hundos’ when he graduated. As far as the group knew, he simply went in with the intent to get a degree in business, but whether he would actually graduate was an entirely different story, considering the college was known to be one of the biggest party schools in the kingdom. “Well, there’s nothing else to do up there,” was Revali’s defense.

The city - and their lives - were much quieter once their friends left for college. But senior year was quickly approaching for Link, Mipha, and Zelda, with promise of heavy work loads and one final push for college applications. It would be enough to occupy their minds and give them a normal life once more, but still, they couldn’t help but to miss the way things were a year ago when the group was whole.

But the night before their first day of senior year, they were all dragged into another group text message, courtesy of Urbosa.

My little babies are seniors tomorrow. Pack a healthy lunch and study hard! I’m looking at you, Link!

Revali didn’t hesitate to jump at the opportunity to tease Link. Let’s be real here. He’s not going to college. He’s gonna milk the hero thing for the rest of his life.

Teba’s response was next. Why am I a part of this…

Because youre our cheerleader, bitch, texted Revali.

Revali we’re sitting next to each other. There was a lull in the chat for a moment until Teba texted again. Revali punched me.

Urbosa responded with an emoji shaking its head.

You bitches are coming to my first fight, Daruk texted.

Link doesn’t condone violence, Revali said. Make love not war guys.

Dude, Link replied. Youre like a 3 days drive away.

Its a 4 hour drive, loser. Dont you miss me?

Link replied with a heart emoji. So much.

Why dont you stick it in his butt, came Revali’s mature reply.

Don’t be jealous of our relationship, Link said.

Does Mipha know? Teba asked.

We have an open relationship, Mipha finally chimed in.

Does that mean youre open for business? Revali said.

Eat shit, Link quickly replied.

Link and Mipha sitting in a tree, Revali texted.

Oh shit, Link said.

Revali finished the song with a series of kissing emojis and various other symbols that suggested more than kissing.

Omg dont tell her that Link said.

Link, we’re dating.

He responded with two blushing emoji faces.

Where the fuck is Zelda, Urbosa texted.

After a moment, Zelda’s text came through. Hylia, why have you put me into this insufferable group of people.

You love us, Revali said.

Destiny, Daruk said. Isn’t that kinda her thing?

We belong together, Revali texted.

Revali is singing, now, Teba said. I cannot believe I’m stuck with him for the next four years.

Welcome to my hell, Link said.

I’m muting you all, Zelda said. Some of us have school in the morning.

Suckas, Revali said.

Revali, you do, too, Teba said.

I didn’t come here to go to school.

Good night idiots, Zelda said.

Good night my precious lil babies, Urbosa texted. I love you all and i hope you have a good first day of school! Send mama pictures! And BEHAVE!!

What happens if we don’t behave? Revali asked, following that with a series of winking faces. Are you going to spank me?

Zelda left the chat.

Mipha left the chat.

Link left the chat.

Urbosa left the chat.

Ha.

Daruk left the chat.

FUCKERS.

Teba left the chat.

#legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #loz #botw #shadows of hyrule #soh78

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liquid-geodes · 5 years

Note

do 7!!! >:)

Ask: Forgotten (ow ow ow OW OUCH)

The Calamity has been over for months, and the whole ordeal has practically been forgotten. With it, the champions as well.

The luster of Calamity Ganon's defeat had finally worn off, those who had faced it now hold relevance no longer to the people they gave their lives to defend. With their spirits laid to rest, this hardly seems to matter much, except for one.

Link didn't save Hyrule because he wanted praise, he did it because he was the only one who could. He just never thought that he would be forgotten for it once it was all over. People never looked at him with wide eyes when he entered the room anymore, children didnt strive to be like him anymore. No one even knew his name anymore. That's why when the Hylian Champion disappeared one day.. no one even noticed.

It was no secret that the races scattered around Hyrule were busy with fixing their lands, but that was still no excuse to forget the very one who gave them their land back. It's funny really, how no one seemed to notice Link had been missing until they needed him again.

Zelda had sent one of her messengers to Hateno to request his presence at the Castle. She had been very busy, and unintentionally she hadn't the time to check in on him like she usually did. She didn't think much of it though, but as the messenger returned with the news that no one in Hateno had seen the hero.. then she started to worry.

Zelda herself made her way to his secluded home in Hateno Village. She hardly even thought to knock as she burst through his front door in a slight panic. The house was a wreck, the exact opposite of how Link liked to keep it. The silence was deafening, so much so that Zelda subconsciously held her breath as she looked around. Her quiet footsteps seemed to echo as she ascended the stairs, if he was anywhere she hoped that it was just in bed. As she stepped off the last stair her bright blue eyes found the photo that was taken shortly after the Champions had been assembled. The photo was hanging crooked, while everything around it layed undisturbed. She then let her eyes trail over to the bed, sheets bunched up and tossed haphazardly towards the foot of the bed. But Link was nowhere to be seen. Zelda was now panicking, and quickly ran out of the house and back to her horse, earning many strange glances from the villagers.

The search for Hyrule's greatest soldier had lasted only a week.. that's all it took before he was found. When Zelda heard the news she was elated, relived that her friend had been found. With haste she made her way to the Akkala wilds, steering her horse off the trail and towards the woods that open up to skull lake. As she slowed her horse to get off, she was met by the grief stricken faces of the Hyrulean Guards who reported his location. Zelda glanced at then quizzically, "well, where is he? You said you found him didn't you?" The guards said nothing, they merely kept their heads hung low as the captain of the brigade pointed their Princess in the direction she needed...

The news hit the entirety of Hyrule harder than anything Calamity Ganon could have ever unleashed against them. Everyone who had ever known him grieved. Sidon, Teba, Riju, Yunobo, and Zelda all sat quietly together inside Hyrule Castle. No one dared to break the fragile silence.

Out in the courtyard, the news spread like wildfire:

"I can't believe the Hylian Champion is dead-"

Link left the world doing what he had done his entire life: fighting. What started out as a walk in the woods to clear his head soon turned into the fight he couldnt win, as a silver Lynel made it's way towards him. Horribly unprepared, the champion fought with all he could to get away.

If this was where he had to die.. at least he could do it knowing no one had remembered him anyways

#linkthehylianchampion #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #loz #link's headcanon #link answers #link and zelda #zelda hyrule #princess zelda #botw teba #botw sidon #chief riju #lady riju #botw riju #yunobo #angst #loz angst

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janazzaa · 6 years

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The Founding of Tarrey Town

Fandom: Breath of the Wild Characters: Link, Hudson Summary: Hudson was grateful for the trust Bolson had in him, but the Tarrey Town project was just a little too big for him. Thankfully, this kid didn’t mind giving a hand. AO3

Hudson liked the little guy. Polite, quiet, dependable - much like himself. Perhaps that was why when the little guy found him he accepted his aid. After all, the project he had in mind was huge and would take years to accomplish by himself. While this guy might not stay for long, a little help wouldn’t be a bad idea.

But even after he dragged dozens of tree logs to Hudson’s campsite, they had a long way to go.

After collecting enough wood for Hudson that could be cut into planks for the day, the little guy huffed and fell to the grass in a heap of limbs. His chest heaved from overexertion, as he had been chopping down trees since midday until past dusk.

Hudson could not help but feel gracious in spite the little progress truly made. “This is only the beginning for me,” Hudson told him. “Can I have the wood?”

The boy lifted his hand into a thumbs up that shook then let it flop back down.

Having made enough progress on removing the stone for today, Hudson grabbed his water skin and knelt beside the boy. “Do you have anywhere to be soon?” He asked the little guy as he handed over the water skin.

The kid drank from it greedily dripping it on himself and sputtering from his laid out position. When he finished he wiped his mouth and shook his head.

“Good. We can make dinner.”

Hudson didn’t wait for his response before taking some sticks and branches still left on the hauled wood into a balanced pyramid and with flint and a knife he began sending sparks at the kindle. “I caught some fish just before you showed up to help. You prefer grilled or fried?”

Hudson left no room to decline the meal. And so the two stoked their little fire below the metal plate where their fish fried. The blonde pulled from his pack rice balls tucked away between leaves and offered one to Hudson.

The kid didn’t talk much which was fine for Hudson. After all, he wasn’t one to make much conversation, preferring to observe and accept what people asked of him. But it could get old, a reason for why Hudson decided to start his own project. As his own boss, however, he was expected - or, he guessed, expected of himself - to be efficient, meaning to know what materials he would need and when he would get them. With just himself, it meant if he didn’t collect the metal and wood, he couldn’t build anything that day.

Having this little guy sure was a big help, even if it was only one day.

When the kid got up and thanked him for the meal, Hudson suggested he stay.

“You’ll get lost out in the dark.”

And so they slept beside the fire.

When Hudson woke, he expected to find his newfound friend to have left. He was a seasoned traveler, obviously from the extensive gear, the type to follow the wind and twisting turns of a the river. His shoes would be well worn and gloves falling apart.

He wasn’t in sight, but many of his things were still at the campsite, like his pack and shield. He didn’t notice at first, but beside the fire, not far from his own belongings a plate of rice and eggs sat balanced on a stone. Beside it was a note that read “For Hudson.”

Thoughtful kid.

With his breakfast in hand, Hudson drew himself to his feet fighting off the last of sleep, then dragged his feet to the edge of the cliff where his little Tarrey Town Project was based. He dug in to his meal and considered if even his mother could cook as well as this guy. The rice was seasoned with something he had never tasted before, a spicy but sweet coat around the grains of rice. Perhaps that was the Goron spice he had heard of, something rather rare outside of Death Mountain. It took sheer willpower to not scarf it down in one bite.

He owed the little guy his thanks and searched for him from the cliff side, eye the horizon until noticing the forest surrounding Akkala Lake - or rather, what had once been its forest.

The tree fell beside the boy and Hudson couldn’t help but laugh.

Chopping down trees. At the crack of dawn. It was like a path of chaos. Everything behind the boy had been chopped down already leaving nothing but stumps and logs rolled onto the path ready to be lugged back up to the project area in the middle of Akkala Lake along with his efforts from the day before. Ahead of him were dozens upon dozens of trees, but knowing this boy’s speed and strength, they would be no match.

Hudson decided he liked his new friend and coworker.

Sure the houses were being built but what was the point of no one knew of it? He imagined it would perish, a ghost town only told as legend. He still had a lot of work to do even with the little guy’s help.

The little blonde worked fast and clean, his movements measured and his eyes focused as he cut wood into planks for floor boards.

“So I was thinking…”

The boy looked away from his work and tilted his head.

“These boulders are driving me nuts…” Hudson thought for a moment. “But we need someone of brute strength, more than myself.”

The boy nodded.

“But the company’s got strict rules. People with ‘Son’ in their name only… We need a help removing this stone.”

And it was as if Hylia herself had shone his light on him.

“Maybe you can find a Goron.”

He knew the guy was light on his feet and his horse to be stronger and faster than most. If he didn’t know better, he would say it was the same horse told in legends, one that accompanied the Hero that once stood beside the late Princess’ side. It was said to be natural born, raised and nurtured by an unforgiving land but having the sharp-mindedness of a man and the gentleness to her rider as a mother.

And even with such skills and tools at his disposal, Hudson did not expect the little guy to accomplish his goal in two short days.

Greyson of the Goron and his son Pelison (a fine name) arrived far earlier than he expected. More talkative than himself, Hudson preferred to listen to the older Goron’s tales of Death Mountain (not a fine name) and its intense heat and peculiar travelers.

“A tin man for a Hylian comes in and asks if I’m looking for work then says he’s gonna talk to Chief. Wonder if Chief knows him. He looked familiar.”

“He is certainly a seasoned traveler.”

“'Course. I just hope this place will be good for Pelison. He needs a place he can call home.”

Hudson considered his words and answered truthfully. “We have a long way to go.”

“Dunno, that kid is fast and easy to like. If he could bring in some business owners, this place could be up and running in only weeks.”

“The Bolson Construction Company rules are strict. Finding someone with 'Son’ in their name who are interested is like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“You doubt him?”

Hudson laughed at that. “No, if anyone can get this job done, it’ll be him.”

“Who knows, maybe he will find Pelison a new mother. Or perhaps a Mrs. Hudson.”

And once more Hudson was laughing, enjoying the simple chatter. This kid sure had a knack for finding good people.

“You’re always looking at that thing.”

The boy perked up at Hudson’s words, looking away from the tablet.

“What does it do?”

He watched him bite his lip and get lost in thought as he always did with Hudson. For sure the kid was quick on his feet against the monsters surrounding Akkala, but in times of peace, he took his time processing, indulging in the small luxury few have the chance to. It was in these moments he seemed most at peace, calm, safe, and Hudson was gleeful to have won such trust.

The boy tapped the tablet and a blue light shimmered across it, the hue of ancient technology, like the crystal eye of the guardians. He handed it to Hudson.

“Oh! Are you sure?” Even when the guy left his belongings at camp, the tablet was not one of those belongings. He had never seen it not in his hands or attached at his hip.

He only smiled and handed it to Hudson who awkwardly held it, unsure of how to hold such technology. The kid lent on Hudson to see the screen and tapped a green icon, and the screen changed to …

“Pictures.”

Hudson had not seen such a tool in his lifetime, but his mother had told him about them. The Sheikah, before their seclusion, could capture scenery with only a click, with details greater than any painting.

The grass of a picture was lush, almost soft, like he could brush his fingers through it.

The boy leans over and swipes the picture away and a new one appeared, one of molten rock and stone with licks of flames surrounding. At the center stood a Goron who wore a handkerchief of Hylian royalty blue around his neck and beside him stood a statue of metal and rubber? There were slots at the face plate and between the slots-

“That is you! I didn’t recognize you!” His laugh bellowed, shaking his stomach and beside him the boy smiled warmly. He swiped to another picture, one of the young man with a silver haired child on a night of the Blood Moon. He held the child above his head and the child cupped his hands around the Blood Moon, as if the Blood Moon was nothing more than a luminescent stone in her hands.

“Amazing. May I see more?”

Nodding his head, the boy took Hudson’s finger and swiped the screen, showing how to sort through the different photos. Another appeared of Hateno, while Karson and himself worked on the new house the young man had bought. Then another when the boy had just left the dye shop. “Those colors suit you,” Hudson complimented offhandedly. Another image must have been taken in the Gerudo Desert based off of the golden sand that seemed to sparkle with the angle of the sun that had half set in the West. The sky had changed to a purplish hue, then orange around the sun, then a golden yellow much like the sand at the sun’s core.

Hudson was awestruck at such beauty at his fingertips. These were sights he had only dreamed of, something he wished the Bolson Construction Company would make him travel to see for himself. “Incredible.”

He turned to ask the young man about the context of the picture, but he quickly shut his mouth holding back a fond smile.

Beside him, head rested on Hudson’s arm, the boy slept.

Similarly to Greyson, Fyson arrived much quicker than Hudson expected. Fyson was younger too, leaving the “nest” for the first time in hopes of making a name for himself, not so different from Hudson who left home young when Bolson first found him. But as he listened to the young man’s desire to start his own shop, Hudson couldn’t help but take him under his “wing.”

Then Rhondson.

Rhondson, a Gerudo who had left home in search of work with little success until the little guy stumbled upon her. How she wasn’t employed was beyond him. Her skill was beyond anything he had seen before, her silks the finest, softest, and strong. Even in metal work to create the necessary buckles and pins, Rhondson’s hands were steady and strong, soft yet sturdy.

Finding a treasure such as her, one who cared for him with the same strength and gentleness, the same love and admiration, he thought only existed in stories.

And it was thanks to the little guy that he stood before his wife to be in the middle of Tarrey Town in front of Hylia’s statue, being blessed by a Zoran priest with Rito and Goron and Hylian friends wishing them the best. Flower petals fluttered down around them, a tradition of a Hylian wedding that represents endless love.

Such a variety of races, who when Calamity struck had hid away in their territories afraid that it was the Hylians who brought on such destruction, now all share the same space giving a Hylian and Gerudo their blessings. It was a sign of healing, that Hyrule wasn’t destroyed by Ganon, only set back, and it would heal, just like a burn on the skin. The grass grew back where fire had scorched and collapsed homes and wedding altars. While it took time, homes can be rebuilt, and people can cherish each other without fear.

Hudson could never thank his friend enough for what he did for him. If not for his companionship, Hudson would have likely gone mad. The project would have taken years just to build, let alone to bring in people who would stay. Sure, there was still work to be done, but his aid put them on the map. Brought in traders and citizens, shopkeepers of all trades.

He brought him his beloved Rhonson.

And so he couldn’t thank the little guy enough for all his work. And so with much thought, he decided it be important that the little guy’s name be a part in Tarrey Town’s founding.

“Tarrey Town. Founded by Hudson and Link.” The sign hung inside the inn, a golden plaque that would engrave them in history.

Plus, being married to a seamstress meant his friend often had his equipment repaired, especially his shoes and gloves.

Tarrey Town had its normal bustling of travelers and traders the day Calamity was vanquished. Word spread from the travelers who had seen the castle from a distance.

“The Princess may finally rest,” a traveler had told Hudson. “The Hero has returned.”

Funny that Hudson had never considered his friend, the one who aided in building an entire town and wanted nothing in return, who brought him his beloved Rhondson, would also be the Hero to stop Calamity Ganon. Nor did he believe the lost princess would be alive, only in a slumber similarly to her knight’s as she did not age.

Link hadn’t been around in some time when the first villages cheered for the princess and knight’s return.

Nonetheless, Hudson still stood as Link’s best man at his and the Princess’ wedding, one that took place not on the castle steps as her father’s had, but rather at the center of a little trade town, one caressed by Lake Akkala and blessed by Hylia herself, as Hudson would say, as petals fluttered in the wind as a promise for the years to come.

It was a step away from tradition, much like the princess herself, who asked to take up sword and travel with her knight as a scholar, who discarded dresses for hiking gear and spoke to her subjects as equals.

Yes, she was untraditional for one of royal blood. And perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing.

#link #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #loz botw #hudson #tarrey town #from the ground up #my stuff #my writing

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punishandenslavesuckers · 7 years

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She has no throne. Girls without thrones should not have knights, but hers won’t go. Princess Zelda – the girl who killed Calamity – would love to fade into legend, but Link’s bought a house, he’s fighting off monsters, and he’s selling giant horses to strangely familiar Gerudo men. She'll never have any peace now. (ao3)

(chapter one) (chapter two) (chapter three) (chapter four)

Like in most villages, Link’s arrival at the Rito Village main bridge gets a disproportionate amount of attention. As they board their horses at the village Stable, half a dozen Rito drop out of the sky and into the yard beyond the fence.

By the time Zelda and Draga finish talking to the stable hand, Link’s surrounded by a small flock of the massive bird-like tribespeople, three of whom greet the shorter Hylian with a warm mo’a – gently butting their foreheads against his and turning their faces aside to briefly press along the side of his head. It’s a strictly Rito welcome. Not usually shared with non-Rito on the basis that non-Rito often find the bird-like race welcoming and polite but ultimately somewhat stand-offish after a certain degree of familiarity. ‘Stand-offish’ generally meaning that they liked you well enough to test your friendship a little, as was customary. But the average Hylian doesn’t know they should be excited about a bit of Rito ribbing and take the new cold-shoulder as a hint to get lost.

Link, having dealt with Revali (who did not actually want to be friends at all), doesn’t let ribbing of any kind deter him. Generally.

Link slings his pack to the ground as a massive white-feathered Rito makes a smooth but high-speed landing directly in front of him, straightening up to tower over the Hylian hero, head tilted with a positively predatory lean. He’s a warrior for sure – broad-shouldered frame roped with avian muscle, a massive bow clipped to his back. Brutal, eagle-like features make his expression difficult to read. Of the assembled Rito, he appears the most likely to embody the warrior reputation of his people – that he may slit a man’s throat on the raptorial hook of his beak and hurl them hundreds of feet to their squalling death. But presently, he just looks… worried? No. He looks impatient.

“Teba?” Link says, tone a sure sign he’s noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“Is this your priestess?” he says, wasting breath on not a single pleasantry. His voice, rough, shockingly deep, matches Draga’s for pitch and intensity. “You vouch for her skills?”

Link, startled by this, nods.

“Good. Apologies, but we need you immediately.” The giant Rito gets down on one kneel, facing her. “Get on,” he says, indicating his back.

“I –” She looks at Link for guidance and gets an urgent nod. “Okay of course.” She rushes to loop two arms around Teba’s neck, careful to sit high so she can rest her armpits over the top of his shoulders, weight against his chest and not his throat. “I’m okay. You can go fast. I’ve done this before.”

He takes her at her word and launches skyward.

The air screams, her stomach drops, but Zelda keeps her head tucked against Teba’s neck, feeling the impossible power in the musculature of his upper back and chest, freezing mountain air tearing her hair into a tangle. She peeks over his shoulder just in time to see a large wooden platform rising to meet them and she realizes, blankly, that it’s Revali’s Landing. Built like the rest of the village into the side of the impossible white spire of porous stone that marks the Rito stronghold – she knows it better than any part of the Village even a century later.

Teba drops into the center of it and lets her down. He leads her quickly to a private residence one landing up where a pink-feathered Rito in white physician’s garb is waiting at the door. Strange that there even is a door – most Rito homes are open air platforms left exposed in the day so their residents and come and go by sky as needed. The open walls have been enclosed in thick canvas and cloth tenting, creating an enclosed winter dome. She can smell incense and medicinal herb from the interior.

“You’re a healer?” the Rito woman demands, in a voice that would be musically sweet if she wasn’t deathly serious.

Zelda is ushered her into the tent, but Teba stays outside. Quarantine possibly? Zelda rolls her sleeves up as she enters.

“Yes. I read Teba’s letters. I’m ready to start.”

“Good. I am Saki. Head physician. Teba is my husband.”

Zelda nods. “Thank you for the letters. Where’s the –?” She stops cold, almost stumbling. “The patient?” she finishes.

There’s a Rito male lying on a reed mat near heated stone hearth. He’s lying on his back, visibly in pain, both his wings curled to his chest, pressing into his sternum. He’s breathing in short, wet, asthmatic gasps that rack the Rito’s whole body. There are patches of molting feathers along his shoulders and back. The floor is dark with them. Before the illness, he was probably blue-black and cream-colored in plumage, a beautiful mohawk-ish head crest and a dozen warrior braids. Now, he looks dusty and grey.

He looks, with some exceptions, almost exactly like Revali.

“What is it?” Saki demands, edgy. “Link told you what’s happening?”

“Yes, I… what’s his name?”

“Mishi. The illness started in the house of his father and mother, then spread through the rest of the family and –” She stops. “He’s dying. This is the last stage. I’m only asking you to… try.” Then, with un-Rito-ish desperation, she says, “Please.”

Zelda goes to Mishi’s bed side and very gently draws his hands away from his chest so she can see. He can’t speak by now. He looks at her. He’s less eagle-like than Teba in facial structure. More like a raven. His eyes are neon-green and afraid. She tries to smile as she, carefully, places two hands palm down over his heaving ribs. The feathers beneath her fingers are soft, more downy fluff than the plumage lining his shoulders and arms. Rito hearts beat faster than human ones, but his feels like a humming bird snared behind a hollow-boned cage.

“Hey, Mishi? I need you to stay with me,” she says as her palms begin to glow, begin to infuse a warm light into the dense muscle beneath her fingers. “Breathe, okay? Try to breathe big, deep breaths for me.”

He nods and, with great effort, tries to keep breathing. Instead, he coughs until he gags, then struggles twice over to breathe. She cups his throat, very gently with two hands then slowly moves them down, spreading them across the band of his clavicles, then over his chest, over his lungs, then down to below his ribcage where the Rito’s waist begins to come in. Then she does it again – dousing for the damage that’s killing him. Feeling it under her fingers as pressure and cold. Sweat runs down her cheek.

“You’re fine,” she says warmly. She can feel something burning away under the radiant gold that she’s flooding into the dark, afflicted interior of Mishi’s chest. “Stay with me.”

Her head is swimming a little from exertion – focusing entirely on the indefinable sensation of organic systems finding their right configurations by her hand. It’s a blind shot, the magic of healing. Done by instinct and repetition, like braiding her hair. Or drawing a bow.

“You’re pale,” Saki says.

“I’m fine.”

She hears heavy footfalls outside, voices. A triangle of light opens across the wall as someone draws the curtain back and a very large person enters the room.

“What are you doing?” Draga says.

She doesn’t look up from Mishi. “Healing. Where’s Link?”

“Outside. You’re using too much energy.”

“Go away. Send Link in here.”

“Why? Because he won’t tell you to stop?”

And he’s right, so she just redoubles her efforts. Light flares between her fingers, a heat rushing from her hands, lifting her hair from her shoulders. Draga immediately moves to kneel beside her, one fist set against the floor so he can lean near her without touching her.

“You need to stop,” he says.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snaps. Gold is gathering in her arms like candle flame. Her teeth ache from gritting them. Her head pounds. There’s a pain gathering in her lower back and mounting her spine. “I can do this. This is nothing compared to what I’ve done before.”

“This is nothing like what you’ve done before.”

Saki looks sharply at her.

“It’s taking longer than it should,” Zelda explains, glaring at Draga. “That’s all. I can do this.” Her arms are starting to shake. The golden shine beneath her fingers flickers. “Goddess. Where is it?” She stacks both hands over Mishi’s laboring heart. “Draga, just trust me. I can get this.”

“You need to stop or it’s going to kill you.”

Saki, hearing this, shakes her head and starts to push Zelda away. “Okay. I’m sorry, but I won’t allow that.”

“No! Just wait,” Zelda cries. “Please, I can save him.”

Saki glances at Draga, then back to Zelda. “Priestess, the champion descendent vouched for your skill and cited your healing work in Hebra and Akkala as proof of your ability. I trust his judgement as far as your skills collude it, but this cannot continue. I thank you for your efforts as they are.”

“I didn’t say we’re letting the boy die,” Draga says somewhat drily. He pulls a piece of white chalk from his belt and starts surreptitiously marking the floor in sigils Zelda doesn’t recognize, then stares hard at them. Zelda smells copper – like warm metal or blood. He looks at her. “Zelda, I think your power’s being drawn off. You won’t be able to heal him entirely, but you can stave off the killing blow. Pick something very specific to heal, then stop.”

Mishi sits up a little, making it easier for her to lay hands along the curve of his windpipe, then against his chest again. He’s breathing slowly now, evenly. By the time she’s finished, he’s dozed off into what Saki informs them is his first unlabored sleep in three days. Draga grunts, frowning at the marks on the floor. Then he sits forward, presses his palm down over them and Zelda watches a quick, dull flash of red snake across the lettering and fade. The markings smoke slightly, burned into the wood. He wipes his palm off on his trousers.

“Saki, Mishi is the last in his familial line. If he dies, that ends it, correct?”

Saki tenses. “How do you know that?”

“That’s not important. What else can you tell me?” Draga presses. “Was there’s anything special about Mishi’s family? Were they a political target? Did they have enemies.”

Saki looks shocked. “No. No, if anything the opposite.”

“Why the opposite?”

“They… they were from the same clan as the Rito Champion, Revali.” Saki does not notice the look on Zelda’s face or if she does, she does not give a sign. “But why does that matter? This is an illness. It began in their family and spread as the healthy family members came to help.”

“This isn’t a disease,” Draga says, calmly. “It’s a curse. I suspect one tied to his family in some way. I’m afraid if Mishi dies, it’s going to jump to the next group of tribesman that meet its… criteria.” He glances at their patient who sleeps on, surrounded by people, yet somehow completely unprotected. “I’m going to need time and Zelda will need to recover. First, we must break the curse. Then we can save your tribesman, but I would recommend you limit all Rito contact with him until I determine the vector of transmission.”

“But if what you say is true,” Saki murmurs, “then there is a murderer to blame for this?”

There’s a pause, because there’s a very Rito flash of… intention in Saki’s eyes. Like an archer seeking a target.

“Possibly,” Draga says. “Generational curses are indistinguishable, generally, from a pre-meditated hex. It could be one person in the family encountered a cursed object or entity and it spread from there down the line. I can try to find out and if there is a party to blame. Does this meet with your approval?” When he receives a nod from Saki, he turns his attention back to Zelda. “I will need you strong. Go get Link and get some rest. I’ll call you back when I have something for you to fight.” Then in Gerudo, “Is that acceptable, Princess?”

That annoys her, but she thinks he’s trying to make her angry at this point.

She stands up. “I can do that. Thank you, Draga.”

His expression loses a touch of its edge. “I’ll fix this,” he says.

Zelda manages a very brittle smile. “I think we got here too late for that.”

“Draga’s mad at me,” Zelda says.

Link sits forward, scowling, and signs, ‘I am also mad at you.’

“Right.”

She spends two more days sitting with Mishi to stave off the effects of the curse. Draga spends that same time stomping around the Rito Village, disappearing for hours to walk about the foothills around the lake, scaring off large animals and writing things in a small grungy notepad. Link goes with him sometimes. He stays with her other times. When asked what Draga is doing, Link’s not sure because 90% of what Draga does looks like “scribbling in the dirt” and “squinting really hard at nothing then cursing”. He says Draga is doing ‘spellwork’ to trace the source of the curse.

He kind of fumbles over a slang sign for ‘spellwork’ that’s dangerously close to ‘magical bullshit’.

They’re sitting together on Revali’s Landing, side-by-side with their legs hanging over the edge. Link is not actually mad at her, despite his insistence because he’s far too worried to make room for being mad as well.

Link signs. ‘Don’t worry so much. Draga will get it.’

Zelda sighs. “I didn’t even notice it could be a curse.”

‘Were you ever trained for that? Detecting curses? Who curses people? That sounds fake.’

“You literally fought an incarnation of ancient evil and fight magically tainted monsters all the time. You have several semi-cursed objects in your travel pack that are so magically afflicted that Draga hit you in the face once because he thought one of your masks was taking root in your skull.”

“Psh,” he says in that tone that is largely responsible for 90% of Draga’s anxiety. Then he signs, ‘Were you trained?’

“Well, no, but… I don’t know. I thought it would be natural to feel and dispel such things.” She sighs. “I am… resigned to the notion that my power is waning but I thought more highly of my abilities.”

‘Draga said it was subtle. It’s why he’s so annoyed with it.’

“Your point?”

‘It’s easy to miss.’

“All my training as a girl was so… academic. The powers passed from my mother and grandmother were divinely sourced. Not something one could learn from practical wizardry so, while I have some training, none of it was… none of it was anything I could practice. Nothing I learned were things I could take with me in any useful fashion and I find that so… frustrating.”

Link says nothing to that.

“I’m a little embarrassed, if I’m honest. Aren’t I supposed to be good at this?”

Link snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Relax,” he says out loud.

“I can’t just relax,” she says, offended.

“Not with that face,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

He smiles at her.

“If you’re trying to improve my mood, you’re doing a poor job of it.” She stares out over the massive glacial basin that makes up Rito Lake, to the mountain range beyond. “If Draga is right, then someone killed Revali’s family while we were... elsewhere. I can’t stand it. I honestly… I can’t.”

Link’s not smiling anymore.

“It’s just absurd,” she says, aware that she’s starting to babble, to become frantic. “Because there’s nothing to gain from it. I mean… of all the Champions... Revali is gone. Revali’s abilities were singular. That was the… the whole point with him, you see, that he was the first of his family to do what he did. There was nothing he inherited. Nothing special in his bloodline. He did everything he did on his own so attacking his family is unwarranted and…” She shakes out her hands. She was clenching them, you see. “That’s stupid, Link,” she says angrily, choking a little. “That’s stupid. Why would someone do that to them?”

“Maybe no one did,” Link says gently. “I could be an accident.”

“That’s worse though! Don’t you understand? That’s worse!”

Link says nothing to that.

“They’re gone.” She covers her mouth with her hands. “They died while I was doing other things.”

Link says nothing.

The sun’s starting to fall in earnest now, a warm blush of orange receding from the clouds over the mountains. She can see her breath in the air and she thinks of sitting here, one hundred years ago while Revali filled the silence with assurances that, hey, most people are idiot nay-sayers and morons. Whiners and charlatans worthy of nothing but her contempt and fuck them anyways. They could go to hell. What did they know?

Zelda bends a little at the waist, leaning forward over the edge until the vertigo rushes her. Her hair slides forward over her shoulders and hangs, framing the fall to the icy waters below and –

“Did you know he was shot down?” she gasps.

Link, who instinctively looped an arm around her waist moments before, says nothing.

“They say he… he faced the Windblight on top of Medoh and he was… they all saw him fall.”

Link says nothing.

“He would have hated that.”

Link, still, says nothing.

“You know, we were friends?” she says though it hurts to do so. “He would fly to meet me at the castle and, sometimes, he would sneak me out to do field surveys when I should have been praying. He… he thought praying for salvation was stupid. He liked that I was trying to find practical ways to fight back. He said it was ‘very Rito’ of me.” She laughs, but it stings. “Goddess, it’s been one hundred years. Why do I keep thinking I’m going to see them again? Why does it feel like I still have time? And then I remember and its…”

Link has his arms around her ribs, somewhere between a hug and cautionary hold to keep her from rolling off the landing. He commits to a hug then, pulling her against him and kind of collaring her arms between her chest and his. He always hugs her way too tightly, but for whatever reason she prefers that – the feeling of being contained somehow. Like she could scream for days and it would be okay to do so. Link would just absorb it, like lightning coursing to ground.

They watch the sun set over Revali’s Landing.

Draga is looking up at her. He’s seated by a light source of some kind, a fire maybe or a hearth with the remains of a fire, something dim enough she can’t see his face in full detail but even in the dark she knows his features – the dark dramatic line of his jaw and brow, that he’s thinking about something, a hundred miles away. And yet, when he looks up at her he’s unfamiliar. His eyes – green in the dark, but there’s something beyond the surface, like live coals in deep water. The sands shift under her feet. She can see her own breath in the desert cold. Draga tilts his head and asks her what she is doing. He asks her very calmly.

He asks her because she’s fitting an arrow to the string of a bow. The bow is gold. Her hands are also gold, dripping with gold, a warm oily honey of gold soaking her arms from the elbow down. The shaft is platinum. The arrowhead has dull internal luminance.

“What are you doing?” he says again.

She draws the line back, smearing gold across her cheek.

“What are you –?”

She wakes up.

There’s a thin, watery line of sunrise visible through the slits between the rug walls of their room. For a moment, she can’t recall the strange octagon shape of the apartment, the feather bed and heavy quilt around her, the elaborate patterns in the tenting walls. The soft creak of wood brings her slowly back. They’re at the Rito Village inn – a sturdy wooden structure built (like the rest of the village) into the side of the impossible central spire that marks the Rito stronghold. The rooms are dozens of nest-style wooden platforms enclosed by retractable cloth walls and warmed by depressed stone hearths at the center of the floor.

She can hear the faint sound of birds outside.

She lies there, shocked by her calm. Horrified by Link who sleeps on undisturbed beside her. Horrified by the sham of his safety in her bed – one they share by habit now despite what that might suggest. For a while, she lies there, hopeful that Link’s sleeping façade will break apart and he’ll wake too. He’ll ask her if she saw Draga like he did once before and she will not be alone with it.

But Link lies dead asleep with his arm under his head, his bangs in his eyes, pale lashes laid against his cheekbones. Even in the dim dawn light he looks peaceful. Not like a man having a divinely shared nightmare. Not like someone she can blame for infecting her with some viral strain of violence. She hates the small hopeful part of herself eager to pin the problem on Link and rolls away from him, throwing the covers back so she can creep across the cool wooden floor and make use of the water basin and clean washcloth laid out by the door.

She dresses quickly, shakily. Picks up her water canteen from where she left it just outside the door to chill in the mountain air. She rinses her mouth out, puts on her boots and that’s when she hears a faint knock against the door frame from outside. She answers slowly, peering out into the cold dawn morning. It’s Draga. He’s over-dressed in Snowquill gear and a scarf. The cold in this region irritates everything in him that can be irritated, but it’s 4am and he shouldn’t be awake much less knocking at their door and for a moment a tiny frisson of dread curls around her heart and –

“Mishi is in danger,” he says.

She blinks. “What?”

“The curse,” he says impatiently pulling his scarf down. His nose is a red from the cold. She can see his breath. “I know it’s structure now, but it’s accelerating. I can break it, but I need you. Both of you.”

Link’s awake and dressed in seconds. They follow Draga up the multi-tiered spirals of steps and landings that comprise the Rito Village, rushing to keep pace with him as he only uses every other step to climb. The wood groans every time he pushes off, none of this village being built for someone his size and density.

“What’s going on?” Zelda demands.

“The spell is designed to resist magical defense,” he says, skipping two stairs and forcing the smaller Hylians to race up the steps after him. “Ancient sorcery. Something changed when you began to treat Mishi with magic and when I stripped out the obfuscation from the spell, it triggered some kind of failsafe.” He sounds frustrated. “We need to break it now, before it can get its teeth into Mishi. I have a… a way to do it.”

They reach the small quarantined platform that makes up Mishi’s apartment. The moment they enter… Zelda knows something is wrong. Mishi’s lying, seemingly asleep, surrounded by a series of wire and paper lanterns. Draga’s plastered paper protection wards on every wall. But there’s… something in the room. Like the air pressure inside his home is twice what it shoulder be. The air’s harder to breathe and tastes… chemical and sour. Like fermentation and machine oil. She knows that smell. She knows it in her nightmares and Zelda moves to kneel on the far side of Mishi’s bed, laying a hand over the Rito’s temple and forehead.

“He’s cold,” she says. “He’s breathing but he’s cold.”

She tries to heal, yelps when it rebounds against her palm. Frantic, she spreads her hands and tries to push a purification but, again, nothing happens.

“I can’t… I can’t heal him. What –?”

Draga shakes his head. “He’s not sick, the curse is drawing off his life. We need to break it to heal him.”

“How?” Link demands.

“I can do it,” Draga says.

Then he hesitates.

“Draga!” Zelda cries. Mishi’s breath is visible now. He’s shivering, violently. “Draga, he’s dying.”

“I can do this,” Draga whispers.

He sounds afraid. She’s never heard that before, not from Draga and it shocks her how profoundly she’d cemented him in her mind – a fixed point, unshakable as the fucking sun. Hearing him now, it puts a fine surgical line through the image she’d constructed of him. He looks at her and his eyes are undeniably lit by some internal flame – like fairy lights but darker and older and that fire of it sets something in her heart racing. He starts to say something but the words catch on his lips and that surgical seam splits into a wound, pulling it open and suddenly she can see past her assumptions: He’s not just afraid, he’s terrified.

“I can do it, but I need you ground me.”

“What?”

“You and Link. I need you to shield me.” He’s pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, kneeling now so he’s on both knees beside Mishi’s bed and there’s something… threatening in that: Draga on his knees. He looks at her, tone low, urgent. “We don’t have time. You source your power from Hylia so I need you to hide what I’m doing in that power. Do you understand?” And when Zelda stares, frozen, he raises his voice. “Zelda, do you understand me or not? I can’t do this unless you –!”

Link moves to stand beside him.

Draga stops. They both stop. The whole room (the whole world) seems to stop.

Link’s got the sacred blade out. (When did he draw it? Did she see it? Why?) He’s calm. He stares down at Draga and his eyes aren’t human for a moment. They’re composed of the same ancient metal as the blade, lit from the inside by the cold silver flame that sets the air around him moving. His breath is visible in the air, his hair and clothes disturbed by a wind localized to him alone and… Zelda can feel it. Her skin warming, her palms heating like a skillet to flame. She can taste whatever Link’s drawing on – bitter sweet, like licking the residue of sap from summer-hot skin. It makes her want to move… to yell… to set her teeth in something and bite down. She –

Link drives the blade point first into the floor next to Mishi’s bed.

Before their very eyes, thin sap-green branches start to thread up from the old floorboards, infused with borrowed vitality. Link goes down on one knee before the sword, reversing his hold on the hilt so he can grip it like a mountaineer grips a cliff-face, not a weapon but a handhold. Then he lays his opposite hand against Mishi’s chest.

The Hero looks at them both.

“Move,” he says.

Draga does not hesitate.

He pulls a blade from his belt and cuts his right palm open.

Blood splatters the floor. He closes his bleeding hand over a bone and ruby pendant at his neck. He rips it from the cord and holds it in his fist against his heart. His other hand he lays palm down on Mish’s chest, covering Link’s hand, but Link doesn’t even flinch, not at the blood, the violence of it, or the sick lurch in the air when Draga begins to speak. He casts in a language Zelda can’t understand – too old to fathom, in a voice that seems less like one man speaking and more like a dozen, three dozen, a hundred voices speaking at once – and the shadows gather in the corners of the room. Shadows deepen, lengthen, darken and suddenly the only light in the room is the silver from the sword, gauzy ribbons of radiance thrown around them on an erratic wind.

Draga sees the shadows, but keeps going.

He keeps speaking until he’s shouting and Zelda realizes the voices aren’t him. He’s trying to speak louder than the shadows in the room which are beginning to slither toward him, sending forth rhizoids of darkness across the flowering floor, probing the edges of the light, seeking a path to the source. The room stinks now – of blood, of rot, of flowers and fresh sap, of iron, and the forge. Draga is bellowing now, as loud as he can but the shadows are buzzing, are loud, a deafening cacophony rising like an infinite field of cicadas around them.

Zelda knows without knowing that if Draga loses his voice in the riot, the shadows will penetrate Link’s barrier wall and have every drop of blood from the caster. She knows without knowing, that every voice in the shadow has a name, and every single one of them knows Draga by his. They are clawing, frantic, cannibalistic and mad trying to get past Link to reach him. Link they know, but they can’t look at because (there is a Wolf composed of woven moonlight stalking through the valley of shadow) he’s impervious to them.

But she…

She is their Enemy.

Zelda moves now. She grabs the hilt of the sacred blade, her hand closing around Link’s, her other hand grabbing Draga’s bloody wrist where the pendants has begun to burn him now. She can smell the sick acrid scent of his palm. She can feel Link struggling to breathe. She closes the circuit of three, Mishi at the center, and the shadows begin to scream.

She opens her eyes. She thinks they’re filled with light.

“I can see you,” she says to the legion.

The screaming stops.

Gold runs from her palms like water, translucent and infused with sunlight, running down her arms and dripping from her elbows. Her skin’s begun to shine internally, golden light sparking along the tracery system of her veins then shining from within. Her palm on Draga’s skin steams, a gold mist rising from the place where their hands meet, like an ocean finding a lava-flow. Her fingers around Link’s are electric, rain infused with lightning.

“I can see you,” Zelda says again, louder, and the shadows flinch back from her voice. “I can see you, damn you, get out!”

in whose name, says the darkest corner of the room.

The shadows are burning away before her light, but the in the corner of the room, directly behind Draga, the darkness seems to pull inward, deepening infinitely into the wall, like a mouth opening behind him and Zelda can feel Draga feeling it – that there is something behind him. It’s nothing. It’s just a dark corner in a room. It’s a black hole. It eats every ounce of light that sears from her skin. She rises to her feet, gripping hold of Link and Draga more tightly. There is something in the darkness and she can almost see it.

in whose name, says the thing in the darkness.

Draga is still speaking, but when the thing speaks he falters. He starts to look.

“Don’t look at it!” Zelda shouts, pulling on his hand. “Look at me! Don’t look at it!”

in whose name, says the shadow behind Draga.

And Zelda can see now that the shadow is Draga’s shadow, cast against the wall but impossibly large.

in whose name, it says again, closer now.

Draga’s hair moves like something is breathing on him, some terrible maw inches from the back of his neck. But Draga keeps casting. A line of blood opens along Draga’s right cheek. But Draga keeps casting. The voice from the shadow shakes the room.

IN WHAT NAME DO YOU ACT

Zelda’s right hand ignites. The sword ignites. Link moves. Time twitches infinitesimally and he’s there, then gone, a silver after-image snapping into follow-through and the Hero’s put the Master Sword through the oak beam in the corner. But there’s no shadow there any longer. The blade’s dark again where it rests in the solid wood block, buckled and splintered outward now as though struck by a blow far greater than Link’s one-armed killing-strike. (If there were, in fact, a greater blow possible.) Link breathes hard, slowly, through his teeth, and Zelda can see a line of sweat run from his hairline to his jaw.

Then he wrenches the blade free and stares at the mundane wreckage he’s made of the wall.

“Zelda?”

“It’s gone.”

He turns, afraid. “Mishi?”

“He’ll be fine,” Draga says.

He’s wrapping his palm calmly in a clean strip of bandage. Mishi – still unconscious, still identical to her eyes as the fallen Champion a century past – lays quietly, breathing the slow, deep, even breaths of slumber. There’s nothing dark in the room, just the usual shade where the lantern light can’t reach and, in the face of true darkness, every shadow seems bright as day.

Zelda covers her face, pushing her hair from her eyes. “Thank the Goddess,” she says.

Then, she looks at Draga.

Link is also looking at Draga.

He finishes wrapping his other hand. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair, disturbing only a few of the gold clasps there. “I guess we should talk,” he says.

They congregate in Draga’s room. He’s so big, the Rito gave him their only entirely wooden cabin – a sun-facing room, the balcony open to the dawn. There’s nothing but the mountain range stretched out beyond the basin, a long, jagged line against the horizon and beyond that – the faint shimmer of light from the highlands beyond. It occurs to Zelda, that he’s very near his homeland now. That it’s, perhaps, three or four days ride into the valley that feeds into Gerudo country and suddenly he seems strange – less the traveler on the road, more a desert creature drawing back relentlessly to the habitat that produced him.

That said, it does nothing to stop the three of them from sitting down, cross-legged in a circle near enough that their knees are touching while Draga tries to figure out the vocabulary in Hylian for what he did.

Zelda knows what he did. Link probably… has some notion, his intuition being a match for any academic knowledge. The Master Sword is laying in his lap. The naked metal, she knows, is comforting to him. His hand lays on the cross guard, bare fingers worrying the details in the hilt. Zelda has a hand on his knee because Link is her totem in times of uncertainty. Draga has his elbows braced against his knees, one hand set against his chin, fingers curled over his mouth. Thinking.

Eventually, Zelda makes the first move.

“Draga, that was unfathomably dangerous.”

“That is ironic coming from you.”

“I overstrained myself using my magic inefficiently. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you made a minor pact with a demon to break that curse.”

“With a spirit, Princess, not necessarily a demon, though several were present in an opportunistic capacity.” There’s a short beat of horrified silence from his Hylian audience. His eyes narrow. “I’ve been on the road since I was fifteen. I like to think I am fairly dangerous myself, Zelda.” He lowers his voice slightly, tone softening. “That does not mean I did what I did lightly.”

“You opened a door –” Zelda begins.

He cuts her off. “The door was left open decades ago. It wasn’t I that left it so or did you think I didn’t see what stands on the other side?” He looks away, staring at the floor between them. “What you saw… the shadow on the wall, Princess, was just that, a shadow. I knew the demon wouldn’t dare show its face in the presence of Hylia’s acolytes.”

Link, eyes never leaving Draga’s, speaks up. “The demon?” he says.

Draga says nothing for a while.

“Curses are difficult. I needed something more.”

Which is an evasion.

“The shadow we saw,” says Link, startling the other two. “It wasn’t there because you summoned it. It was there because it’s always there. You used blood magic, but that wasn’t dangerous. What was dangerous was that… thing in the corner because it’s waiting for you to slip up.” Link’s hand on the Master Sword curls into a fist and she wonders if the blade is speaking to him. “You’re cursed. That’s why you know so much about it, because you’re cursed. There’s a demon in your shadow.”

Draga, finally, looks Link in the eyes. He seems tired. “That was a lot of words and yet… succinctly put.”

Zelda leans forward. “Draga, are you in danger?”

He laughs, broad shoulders shaking with the effort. “I am always in danger, Princess. That’s the point.” He sighs. “But presently? No. The curse is dormant except in the very specific circumstances that Link described. It’s a family curse. So, I’m used to it.”

Zelda feels her eyes start to sting. “What?”

“Generational curses,” Draga says, almost conversational in tone. “They’re indistinguishable from a pre-meditated hex. My entire family for generations has carried the curse. We have no recollection now of where it came from or who crossed some demon in their actions, but it’s always been there on the edge of our lives. My mothers and my sisters and my ancestors before them were all ward-workers and war-maids of Din’s acolyte for a reason: to defend themselves.”

He shakes his head.

“So now you know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but, like I said, it’s dormant unless I try to barter for power beyond my own.”

“But you directly summoned a spirit to break the curse on Mishi.” Zelda waits, but he doesn’t answer and she feels this… heat rising behind her throat, behind her teeth. “Why would you do that?” And when Draga looks away, she sits forward. “Look at me, why would you do exactly what that thing has been waiting for you to do? I saw your face. I know it terrifies you. Why would you put yourself in its way?”

“I needed the power,” he murmurs.

“You can’t do that.”

He looks at her. “Why not?”

“This was our task, our responsibility. Link and I. You shouldn’t have risked yourself just because I wasn’t strong enough to –”

“Zelda,” Draga says, “believe it or not, perhaps I didn’t do it just for you and Link.” Draga’s staring at her, unreadable. “Perhaps watching an entire family die in the throes of abomination is more than I can tolerate and perhaps that was the entire reason I left Gerudo Town in the first place: To learn how to protect people from exactly this kind of thing.” He shakes his head slowly. “I understand that, for a time, the world largely revolved around you and your hero, but this was not about you.”

Zelda blinks, stunned.

“I… that’s not what I meant!”

“I know. You never mean it,” he murmurs in a tone that she can’t interpret any other way than affectionately sarcastic, which is really just a nice way of being condescending.

She wants to hit him so much her fist curls in anticipation.

He notices, pale green eyes flicking idly to her half-cocked arm. “Are you going to punch me, Princess?”

“No,” Zelda says. “You’re just… trying to make me mad to distract me.”

“So you’re not going to hit me?”

“I am,” Link says, which the only warning either of them get before Link lunges.

He punches Draga right in the face. So hard, it knocks the bigger man backwards onto the floor. This, apparently, was not one of the scenarios that Draga had anticipated because he ends up sprawled out, swearing over the sound of Link yelling, “Not about us, huh!?”

Link tackles the larger man with momentum that shouldn’t apply to someone his size, hitting Draga at his waist as he rises. He hits him the way a cannon hits a building, knocking the Gerudo back down with a crash. Then he’s on top of the other man and just swinging with everything he has. Draga tolerates that for exactly zero seconds and literally, again, throws Link off. But Link’s hitting his stride now so he comes out of the throw with one of those infuriating little… flip things that he does, landing on his feet like an absurd cat. Which makes Draga really mad.

And then they’re just brawling.

“Stop that!” Zelda shrieks. “Are you kidding me?!”

Link kicks Draga in the chest. Draga grabs his leg with one massive hand and throws him into the four-poster bed, smashing it. Link doesn’t even stop. He’s up and charging Draga immediately, body checking him so hard he crashes into the wall. Zelda, panicked, thinks they are doing the Rito Village a lot of property damage in a very short amount of time. Link and Draga are both yelling at each other now. Nothing intelligible, just angry fighting noises as they crash around the room, destroying things.

“We are half a mile up in the air!” she screams, jumping out of the way as Draga bull-rushes into the wall spine first because Link is trying to choke him from behind. “If you go through a wall you will fall to your death!”

Link’s still clinging gamely on, arm hooked around Draga’s throat from behind. Draga ducks forward, hard, throwing Link over his shoulder where he slams flat on the ground, air going out of him. Then Draga just sits on Link’s chest which, when you’re Draga’s size, is an effective end to most fights.

“I will light you both on fire!” Zelda screams, not sure if she’s serious.

“Are you done?!” Draga’s yelling at the man beneath him.

Link hisses. Literally.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Bite me!” Link snarls.

“What in the name of the gods is wrong with you?”

“Are you with us or not?” he snarls.

“What?”

“Are you with us or not?” Link repeats, through his teeth, shoving at Draga’s knee so he can sit up. He’s sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead, face red. “Well?!”

“Of course, I am, you infuriating madman!” Draga pantomimes like he’s going to choke the Hero of Hyrule right here on the floor. “I didn’t dodge a demon because it was the right thing to do, you dense son of a bitch! I did it because it would have killed you both to watch Revali die again like it kills you just to speak their fucking names. Are you happy now?”

Link flops back on the floor, exhaling. “Yeah.”

Draga, disgusted, stands up and marches out of the room. “I can’t even look at you.”

Link makes no move to follow him. He just lies there breathing hard, arms spread on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Zelda, very primly, kneels next to him so she can stare down at her duly appointed knight, who has bits of shredded feather pillow in his hair and a bloody nose.

“Really?” she says.

“He’s with us,” Link informs her.

It’s infuriating that, somehow, that was exactly the question she wanted to ask.

go to chapter 6...

#botw #loz #legend of zelda #legend of zelda breath of the wild #zelda #link #ganondorf #lozfic #in which the cycle with the triforce starts again #but no one warned them #and no one remembers the old stories #so if they accidentally befriend #the next demon king #it wasn't on purpose #this is all hylia's fault anyway #rae writes #raewrites

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

Text

Where Time Takes Us

Hey all! I’m almost done with Chapter One of a fic I’m working on, so in the mean time, why not have a quick teaser?

Eventually I’m gonna also post the full thing on AO3 so the format is better, and it’s also gonna have zelink and some revali stuff in the future...although I’m mainly gonna focus on character growth and arcs than the romance. All in all, when I’m done you’ll have to read it for yourself. In the mean time..

Enjoy!

Where Time Takes Us 6905 words (of like...15k it’s a teaser ok)

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Watch the home while she is off to war

The Slumber King versus the rearing boar

Awake, arise, do not be blind

To tales and destinies entwined

In the world we said that we would leave behind

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6 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days before the Hyrule Castle Slaughter, the Akkala Citadel Massacre, the slaying of the Champions, the death of the hero, and the rise of Calamity Ganon

She was supposed to work until whenever doomsday struck, and truly she wanted to, but circumstances led her to walk towards the echoing laughter.

Already trying to prepare the quip she would throw back at them (as undoubtedly they’d complain about her being late again) the researcher weaved through the familiar roads of West Castle Town. Most of the houses were dark, with the only light source coming from the occasional flickering lantern, and the pale complexion of the midnight moon. Needless to say, it made the warm glow of The Adequate’s Tavern stand out all the more as she approached.

Another roar of laughter and shouts escaped from an open window on the south side of the pub. The bags under her eyes curved with her smile as she recognized one of the voices. She absentmindedly traced her fingers along the outer walls of the tavern as she walked, loose chips of faded blue paint falling to the pavement below. The wooden sign above the door creaked with its askew weight. “The Adequate’s Tavern” was printed in bold, blue letters atop a faded yellow outline. The missing e’s and t’s gave evidence to the building’s true quality.

“Yes, they’re here again, so get out there already!”

“The scientists?” the waiter asked.

The waiter disappeared into the back and the barkeep was left muttering by the counter. Chuckling to herself, the researcher moved away, starting to search for the scientists in question. Other than a single, beige wall that separated the edge of the bar with a support beam in the middle of the room, the pub was very open and lively. Square and circular tables were littered across the floor in mismatched patterns, ranging from oak brown to birch white. Clearly, aesthetic was not the centerpoint of the place.

As if fate had read her thoughts, she finally caught sight of her friends.

The young woman wore roughly the same outfit, although she had a navy blue skirt and boots compared to the other guy’s black pants and shoes. Her eyes were also red, albeit, with a more striking scarlet color, compared to the other boy’s warmer wine shade. Looking back, she adjusted her bright, Sheikah red, round, sparkly, diamond decorated glasses, complete with white accents that matched her hair. It was pulled in a messy bun, a hairstyle that her close friends knew was less for looks, and more for practical purposes, as supposedly “the stupid strands always find ways to bother my eyes. No, stop, I don’t need a comb! My eyeballs are just sensitive, OK?”

Pivoting past a waiter, the researcher finally moved closer to the trio, brushing her curly dark hair above her shoulders as she prepared for the sarcasm to begin.

The stormy eyed scientist spoke first.

“Purah, Purah! Is that...a ghost I see? It looks like Adello, but I feel like I haven’t seen her in a century, I surely thought her dead! Am I being…haunted?”

Robbie awed at Adello in sarcastic wonder, and the boy across from him exhaled out of his nose with a smile.

Purah turned to Robbie, pulling down her glasses and looking at him sternly. “See, this is another trait of these kinds of spirits. They’re cursed to only say excuses for eternity.”

He shook his head. “Coupled with the fact that their fashion only ever consists of one color? Truly, a terrible fate for a ghost indeed.”

Adello narrowed her eyes. Smoothing out her juniper colored tunic, she said, “Ok first off, green is a great color on me, it pairs well with my skin tone. You’re both just blind, no wonder you need glasses.” Purah put a hand on her chest dramatically, but she continued. “Plus, I’d really rather not get fired since that ceremony thing with those Champions is tomorrow and, as you all know, I just got that promotion.”

Adello chuckled, finally sitting down in the empty seat beside him. The old oaken chair and floor creaked under the new weight. Robbie let out a huff.

“You kids need to learn to respect your elders.” He announced the word “respect” with the tip of his tongue. The researcher rolled her eyes.

“Ah yes, a whole one year gap between us. What astounding age and experience that these elders emit.” She gestured at Robbie and Purah with a sweep of her arm.

“Uh excuse me, but I believe in my case it’s now double that. A whole two years, my dear, naive child. For as of 4 hours ago, I now emit the knowledge of an existence spanning two decades!” Now it was his turn to pose dramatically, pointing towards the ceiling.

Adello smirked to herself, and answered, “Yep, that’s how it goes!”

“Alright you don’t get to speak Miss I-don’t-know-how-to-be-punctuation!”

Purah promptly smacked Robbie over the head with a pen.

“Hey! W—”

“The word is punctual you idiot.”

Robbie slumped his shoulders and made a face. He tapped his thumb and fingers together, mimicking the opening and closing of a mouth while he muttered mockingly in Purah’s tone under his breath.

Turning the pages of her journal towards Adello, she gave a chaotic grin. “Last round, Zimiri revealed that he once got teary eyed in front of the King himself after reading a poem about clouds.”

Zimiri raised his hands in defense. “Look, the clouds were an analogy for lost childhood innocence and I got choked up with that author’s amazing choice of imagery and descriptions, OK?”

Purah pointed her pen at him to hush, and continued. “Of course, him being a sentimental dork isn’t anything new, so he lost that round to Robbie who revealed the identity of his first crush.”

Zimiri muttered something about the game being rigged towards the birthday boy, but Adello talked over him, excitedly.

“Ooohhhh? Robbie?? Who are they?” She propped up her elbows and cradled her chin in her hands, excited at the prospect of more embarrassing information she could hang over his head.

He mumbled, looking to Purah for assistance, but she only cupped a hand over her ear, waiting for him to respond. “You all fuckin—” he sighed, “it’s…she’s...c-ch…” he avoided everyone’s gaze, “her name is...Cherry…”

Adello gasped, gleefully. “That girl from your old university?? The writer you hung out with!?”

Purah beamed, shaking Robbie’s shoulders excitedly. “I know right???” She loosened her grip and allowed him to wiggle out of her grasp for a moment. “Oh sweetie, campus days may be long gone for all of us prodigies and geniuses,” she flipped a few strands of her white hair with a turn of her head, “but I’m sure you’ll get her someday. You just gotta turn up the charm, find a way to woo with words. I’m sure writers’ love that.” Purah pulled down her glasses and gave a forced wink at him.

“Now, now, let’s all play nice. We don’t need to pester him further about it, he did win the round after all.”

“Uh, yeah. Speaking of the game, you still need to drink up mister.” Purah slid a tan brown cup of apple cider towards him, the translucent contents sloshing around like muck in a gutter.

He leaned on the back two legs of his chair. “Isn’t it punishment enough to smell it? The cider isn’t even near my face and my mouth is already burning.”

She shrugged. “Them's the rules of ‘Till You Spill. Your secret sucked, so swig!”

Raising his posture, Robbie crowed, “When we finally have Zimiri’s birthday maybe then we’ll actually upgrade to the alcohol.”

Adello raised an eyebrow. “Uh, right, because the upgrade from disorientingly strong, smelly apple cider, is you two being flat out drunk. Right...”

Purah slammed both her fists down with pride, letting the cups and pitchers slosh a few, amber colored drops onto the worn wooden table. “Bold of you to assume I’d drink at all, considering I’ve never lost a round! Mwahaha!” She blew a raspberry at her. “This tongue is apple free, baby.”

She gestured with her pinky and index finger at Zimiri and Adello. “Now, you two! The late combatant and the latest loser shall spill next. Give us your juicy gossip!!”

The bard, still reeling from his drink, leaned back in his chair and gave a nod toward Adello. “Ladies first?”

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “The princess has a secret stuffed animal collection.” Seeing the light in her co-workers’ eyes twinkle, Adello knew she had chosen her words well. Purah leaned in. “OOoh? And how did you come across this juicy piece of information?” She rested her chin on an arm with an innocent smile.

“When I sent my application for the new job a few weeks ago, I gave it to the princess directly. It was late at night, and I bumped into her as she just left her room. The door was cracked open for a few seconds, before some royal, pompous guard slammed it right in my face. Yet, it wasn’t before I saw the pile of,” she counted on her fingers, “cow, sheep, bird, dog, and several horse stuffed animals piled high by her big, blue bed. I bet if I peaked for just a few more moments I could have found enough to pin her as a true horse girl.”

He combed his fingers through his messy, white hair, pondering his next choice of words. Fiddling with the beads and strings wrapped around it, he thought out loud.

“So… ever since I moved into the castle. When did my mom come here… five years now? I’ve, uh… had a crush on... Zelda…” He gave an uncertain grin, and raised the palm of his hands as if to ask, “well?”

At first he was met with silence. In his head, he started to celebrate the victory of his first ‘Till You Spill round in literal months. That was until he was met with groans and pitiful mutters.

The bard started to sputter, moving his hands in wild, questioning motions.

“But? Wha— I? You!? Didn’t you— I… W-well I mean, I know Adello knew, I told her years ago, but you guys—”

“R-recognizing a person’s positive traits doesn’t instantly mean in love!”

Zimri continued to sputter, his cheeks becoming roser by the second. Robbie turned to Purah. “So, all in favour of finding Adello’s spill better than Zimri’s?” The two of them raised their hands in unison. “Alright buddy, secret sucked, so swig! WAITER PLEASE!”

Before he could even start to reach for the cup, Adello snatched it out of the way. “Nah, it’s ok. I’ll do one for you, Zimiri. These two monsters have already tore you to shreds, and I’m sure I need a punishment anyway for coming in so late.”

He started to protest, but after catching the look in her dark, iron eyes, he relented. “Well, I thank you for your generosity.” The other two, however, were not as compliant.

Purah cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling, “Booooo... Boo to pity! Boo to generosity!” Robbie mimicked her.

“Yeah you have to respect your elders’ wishes. We demand blood! Suffering!”

“Mmmm. The cider’s weirdly salty tonight, I think your attitudes got mixed in here.”

Purah blew another rasberry at her.

“You know what else tonight needs? Some amazing music, eh Zimiri?” He bounced his eyebrows up and down at him, and gestured towards the lute leaning on one of the table legs.

“I don’t know,” Zimiri replied, “I’ve only a part-time hire for the weekend rush hours, and I wouldn’t want to blindly get on stage and sing without being given permission.”

He fiddled with the string in his hair again. “Oh yeah? I’d love to meet him someday.” At this, Adello clicked her tongue and promptly shoved him out of his chair with her hip.

Suddenly, Zimiri perked his head. Stepping back towards the table, he reached for his cup. “Oh wait, I just lost that round. I still need to drink my—”

Setting the cup back on the table, the researcher said, “Great, now you don’t need to ruin your voice any longer. Now get up there and one-up the last band.”

Robbie clapped his hands again. “Great, great. Now quit the manners and let’s go already! I still have to order the cake pie!”

Both of the girls rolled their eyes in unison. Zimiri shrugged and started to walk through the small crowd of standing Hylians, and towards the small stage.

I guess, if no one is stopping me…

It was a rowdy bunch, but not a new one. Zimiri had played for these kinds of audiences before.

“I see that quite a few people are itching for a new tune. So, uh, any requests?” he announced as he strum a chord on his lute.

He couldn’t stop himself from being biased towards the request of a certain dark skinned girl to his left.

“The World Behind!” Adello said. “Enough with those new ballads, I demand a classic!”

Robbie pumped an arm in the air. “Yes!” he shouted. “I second that! So is my decree as birthday tyrant!”

Zimiri’s smile widened. A lively crowd indeed, this will do nicely.

With that, he started to sing. His silvery voice echoed across the tavern, as he closed his eyes and began to play.

The boys have gone out to the wishing well

Will they come back? Oh only time will tell

A rupee for a life refined

But time and dreams never align

So tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Have you seen the soldiers’ drinking ale?

They wish to sing along with nightingales

To dance on home with songs and rhymes

To banish all the fears from mind

Yes tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Of beasts and men and all atrocities

The damn-ed fate, she owns all that you see

To a better day of new design

Forgot about the gods divine

Oh tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Watch the home while—

“HEY!”

The sudden gruff voice startled the bard to the point where he nearly slipped off the stage.

Well, mostly, silenced the room. A few ticked off guests were booing, groaning, and mocking him for ruining the entertainment.

“Oh would you lot shut up for 2 seconds?!” he said, his voice booming across the tavern. “Listen, I’ll be blunt. I gotta give two messages for this establishment.”

The female guard behind the knight handed him a slip of parchment. Unfolding it, the guard cleared his throat.

“Firstly, you’re music and pounding is disturbing the noblemen next door. He’s staying at the inn or something and wants you to quote,” he read from the paper, “quit the mindless thumping, for Castle Town is a place of serenity and peace, not of nonsense jigs and banging.”

The groaning and insults started up again, the man gave a shrug, stating something about how he was just following orders.

Adello couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “HA! Well, with an attitude like that, this’ll probably be the first and only time he’s been banged, he should be grateful.”

The room exploded into a mess of laughter and whoops. Even the guard smirked to himself, but attempted to hide it with a shake of his head, saying “Watch the mouth girl.” Although, his stern tone wasn’t in it.

After a second, he cleared his throat again. With a stomp of his boot regained the pub's attention, the laughter suffocated out.

“Now, we’re also here looking for a Dr. Robbie Kimura? I received word they might be around here?”

The scientists turned around too late, in an effort to avoid the knight’s gaze. “Gee, what a bunch of snitches,” Robbie mumbled. The three guards started to walk over to the table.

“Dr...Robbie?”

“Who’s asking?” Robbie squinted with his dark brown eyes.

“Is this some kind of prank? You and your friends don’t even look old enough to drink.”

He scoffed. “Ok, first, yes I am a doctor! I didn’t fly through all those courses over four years just to be called, ‘Mr.’ And secondly, I’ll have you know that I am a ripe 20 years of age today, and I’m here drinking expired apple juice with my associates. So take that, pal!”

Beside him, Purah gave a proud nod in agreement. Zimiri started to wave at the guards, but Adello grabbed his arm before he could finish the movement. The guard was a bit unsettled with the way that girl was glaring at him. What was some random Hylian doing hanging out with a bunch of Sheikah anyway?

“Right, well look here son. Some curious aristo-brat snuck into the courtyard and caused one of those flying, metal Sheikah things to fall apart. My boss said that it was your prototype so you should come back and clean it up before something explodes, and possibly give a sincere apology to the meddling kid who got a few scratches.”

Robbie threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re really gonna pull me out of a birthday just so I can go apologize to a spoiled kid for breaking in and ruining my Guardian?”

“If it let’s me keep my job, then yeah.”

Robbie mumbled something about not getting a slice of the apple cake pie.

Suddenly, Adello got up and pushed her chair in, smoothing out the belt around her tunic as she walked towards them.

“Ah yes, well thank you my dear assistant for the assessment but I’m capable of taking it from here.”

The guard raised a bushy, black eyebrow. “Sorry wha-”

“You said you only wanted Dr. Robbie? Well great job, you found them. Now let’s get going, I need to finish up a new design anyway.”

“You’re...Robbie? You’re a... clearly not—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have had my mother consult you for your opinion before I was given my name.”

This time, the guard didn’t smile along with her quip. “This is not the time for—”

She held up a finger to silence him, and glared at the three guards with her iron eyes.

The knights looked at each other, quizzically. The researcher crossed her arms.

A beat of silence sat, only filled by the mild mumbling and chatter of the tavern. Finally, the guard let out a sigh.

“Alrighty Dr. Kimura. I’ll help escort you to the site.”

The patrons just responded with stupid groans, and half-hearted agreements. They started walking towards the door. The female guard started to put a hand on Adello’s shoulder, but she brushed it off, saying something along the lines of “I can walk on my own two feet, thank you very much.”

Purah turned in her seat. “I’ll save a slice of cake pie for you!” Adello turned her head and responded with a two fingered salute, before disappearing out the door with the guards.

“Why does she always do things like that?”

Robbie fiddled with the edge of his cup, tracing his finger around the rim. “Well, you know her. Undermining authority? Check. Insults and quips? Check.”

Robbie continued to list off more traits, but it faded out of Zimiri’s ear. Always jumping onto other’s burdens. Ah, that idiot. I bet she hasn’t slept for the last two days.

Purah suddenly piped up, taking out her pen and rapping it against the table. “Alright you too, let’s not let the sacrifice be in vain. Pool your rupees, we’re getting Robbie the fancy cake pie.”

The clatter of a few red and blue rupees echoed on the wooden table, although Zimri knocked Robbie’s share aside, saying how the birthday tyrant shouldn’t have to pitch in. Purah turned in her chair and started to wave her hand, in order to get the attention of a waiter. The bard watched as a woman with a tray started to walk over to the table. Then, he turned to Robbie.

“So what should we do while we wait?” Zimiri asked. Robbie stroked his chin, looking around the room.

“I think...the people could still use some music.”

He nodded his head in agreement, putting on a charming smile. The place needed a new pick-me-up, did it?

Well, what else is a musician for?

Adello’s footsteps echoed through the cobblestone streets, but she could barely hear it against the shifting of metal plates from the guards in front of her.

The gruff man looked back, scratching his peach fuzzed chin as he spoke. “Listen, if you finish your work quick I might be able to escort you back here.”

“You...live at the castle?”

“Mmm.”

The female guard slowed her step, starting to walk alongside the researcher.

“Already working?”

Adello didn’t look up from her journal. “Uh… you could say that.”

She laughed. “Well you best hope you know what you’re doing. This kid’s father has been yelling at her highness all night. Supposedly because she’s helping to lead Sheikah research, so everyone associated with guardians is at fault.”

The guard hummed a yes. “Apparently, the kid is the son of some visiting nobleman from the East Post. It’d be in your best interest to apologize profusely if you still wanna walk around alive.”

Adello shook her head. She didn’t know it then, but looking back, many moons from now, she would laugh at the irony of her response.

“I’d rather die.”

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw fanfiction #purah #purah botw #robbie #robbie botw #zimiri #zimiri botw #adello #adello botw #botw oc #where time takes us

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punishandenslavesuckers · 7 years

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(chapter one) (chapter two)

“You weren’t kidding,” Draga says, under his breath, through the corner of his mouth, to Zelda alone.

She doesn’t react, just kind of smiles. Link is already off his horse and jogging toward the town square where no less than six people are already waiting to greet him. There’s a large mustachioed man who slaps him on the back. Behind him: a Gerudo woman who puts a hand on Link’s shoulder, for just a moment, and nods. There’s a bright green Rito who catches Link’s arm and tries to drag him toward a storefront, enthusing about something. He is confounded, however, by a Goron who busts through the crowd and literally picks Link up in a bearhug. Screams of protest go up immediately from the assembled villagers, who pry a gasping Link from the embrace.

“He helped build the town?” Draga mutters.

“Hmm, my understanding,” says Zelda slowly, “is that he helped fund it and find likely residents.”

“Is that a Zora?” Draga says, squinting.

“I said Link grew up with them, did I not? He calmed all four Divine Beasts – he has friends in every corner of this kingdom.”

Draga shakes his head. “Seeing it is different.”

Zelda dismounts and goes about tying the lead at a horse-post by the bridge. Tarrey Town is improbably located on a high butte in the middle of a lake in the Akkala Region, accessible only across a long, natural stone arch bridging the main road to the lovely circle of homes and businesses overlooking the sunken ring of the lake. Draga ties his stallion – Arbiter, no longer nameless after the last month – at his own post across the street. They make their way toward the crowd where Link is digging things out of his pack, frowning at the names on the packages, then passing them out. He perks up at their approach, dropping his bag into the Rito-man’s arms with a ‘just one sec’ gesture.

“This is only because you brought seedcake,” the Rito says, hefting the bag.

Link gives him an exaggerated thumbs-up which earns him a groan and the Rito promptly puts the bag down, steps lightly on it, claws closing in the straps, then rather unnecessarily takes off straight up, eliciting more screams of offense from his fellow villagers now buffeted by the backdraft. The mustached man and the Gerudo woman (who appear to be a couple) are the first to approach, ignoring the commotion and waiting for Link to enthusiastically introduce them. He’s a bit flushed from the Goron crushing, but determinedly chipper nonetheless.

“Hudson and Rhondson,” he says, gesturing to the man and woman in turn. “This is Zelda and Draga.”

“Charmed,” Hudson says and nothing else, though he does sound and look genuinely charmed.

Rhondson sighs, speaking in a warm alto. “Hudson is the city engineer and mayor. He welcomes you formally to Tarrey Town. He’s also my husband, so if I give the impression I’m going to toss him in the lake, know that it’s from a place of boundless love and respect.” She says all this with the driest and flattest possible tone humanly possible.

Draga clears his throat to cover up a laugh.

Rhondson notices and the corner of her mouth twitches up. “Vasaaq, veti’neri. Amara’Rhondson, Que con’vaq no?”

Draga nods in a way that’s somewhat formal. “Vasaaq, veniri.” He seems a little wary, but Rhondson’s eyes are warm, listening intently. “Mer’Draga. Shalay vatii.” And then in Hylian he says, “It’s good to cross your path, sister.”

She nods back, genuinely smiling now. “And yours.” She looks sharply at Link. “Though it may be to your misfortune to cross paths with this one; he’s completely insane and not in good proper way, just insane. I watched him hang-glide from the cliffs here to the beachhead across the lake because someone,” here she glares over at a well-to-do looking man in a pink and gold robe, “convinced him the Guardians down there were a threat to be wiped out. He did it for twenty rupees.”

“Hey,” Link starts to protest. “It wasn’t –”

“That sounds like him,” Zelda says.

“I believe you,” Draga agrees.

Link rolls his eyes, then notices that the Zora from before is standing just outside the ring of people, waiting.

Zelda catches Link’s eye and nods so he can slip out of the group to speak with him – a bent tribesman, red scales dulled with age, fins drooped by the centuries. Zelda laughs at something Rhondson says, but manages to watch them sidelong, catch the old Zora very gently taking Link’s arm in hand. He’s saying something. Link lowers his head, but the elder Zora keeps speaking until Link’s shoulders tense. And then Zelda knows. Without hearing a word, she knows the Zora knows everything, absolutely everything, and is thanking him for the full and terrible totality of it – for Calamity, for Mipha, for her standing here, for the whole awful history.

Link looks away and so does Zelda.

“This town is quite diverse,” Zelda says, brightly as she can. “It reminds me of Castle Town. I mean the stories they used to tell – how so many merchants and traders from all corners of the realm would come there together. A city of a hundred languages.”

Here Hudson strokes his mustache. “Well…” he says, then doesn’t go on.

“Yes, dear?” Rhondson presses. “Finish your thought?”

“Reckon Bolson and Co got a plan about that.”

“Oh?”

“There’s people you know, who want to rebuild it. Talk outta Lanayru that Calamity is gone.” He shrugs. “Might be I chat with Link about it. He’s crazy. He won’t be scared to scout build sights in Guardian turf.”

Draga looks sidelong at her.

“You won’t have to hire us,” Zelda says, “Link and I came from that way recently and I can tell you firsthand about the state of Hyrule Castle.” Zelda notes that a small quiet begins to fall. She pretends not to notice. “I can tell you with certainty that the castle is clear and all Ganon’s corrupted technologies lie dead in the country, truly.” There is a rapt silence, every person the village now listening. “If you and your people want to remake Castle Town, then Hylia’s blessings would be surely upon you. The Calamity is gone.”

Murmurs run through the crowd then, excited but wary. One hundred years of hope held tight. An old woman hobbles forward, her husband beside her. She peers up at Zelda.

“My name is Monari. Did you say your name is Zelda?”

“Yes.”

“Like the lost Princess?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a priestess of Hylia?”

“Something like that, yes. There are no temples left.”

“Was it Link?” Monari asks. Her voice quickens and creaks a little with excitement. “People said… they said that he set off for Hyrule Castle, like so many others before. So was it him?”

Zelda glances at Link. He is listening with an anxious kind of body language. He hesitates, then makes a single back and forth gesture with one hand, shaking his head gently. He mouths, “C’mon…” and this time she can’t get around it.

Zelda sighs. “It was Link and I. Together.”

Monari’s face crinkles with warmth. She reaches out two hands, palsied with age and soft when she takes Zelda’s fingers into hers. Her dark eyes are bright, wonderfully clear for her age.

She says, “I never thought I would see the day. But here it is. Well done, my girl.” She smiles as the gathered people begin to laugh suddenly, begin to hug, begin to celebrate with a volume and abandon that Zelda hadn’t readied herself for. And she’s not ready, again, for the tears when Monari says repeats, gripping her fingers proudly, “Well done, Zelda.

“They still aren’t aware you’re the same princess and knight of legend.”

Draga says this quietly, two fingers against his temple, thumb against his jaw, elbow braced again his knee. He’s sitting cross legged on the cobblestones facing her and his eyes in the firelight catch like the ocean in summer.

It’s three in the morning and most of the town’s settled down from the impromptu celebration which involved three bonfires, a pot luck buffet, singing, dancing in the square, far too much drinking, and at one point Fyson the Rito did a serious of impressive aerial stunts with a fruit pie that ended with the fruit pie hitting Greyson the Goron at terminal velocity. After that, it was mostly chaos and riotous drinking until none but a few drunken stragglers remain.

It was, in all, a good night.

There is a statue of Hylia in the center of town – carved stone, a shrine like in many settlements. The feet are covered now in flowers wreathes, fruit, and gifts. Zelda is sitting at the foot of the alter, nursing a cup of wine and Link’s asleep with his head on her shoulder. He’s heavy enough that it’s starting to be uncomfortable, but she can’t bring herself to possibly disturb him so she sits with a wreath on her head, hands smelling like lavender and incense, her fingers orange with crushed petals and prayer oils. A dozen-dozen hymnals given in joy through the night. It’s intoxicating as the honey wine and lessens the sting of personal hypocrisy just enough.

“They didn’t ask,” Zelda says, reaching up to gently run her fingers across Link’s temple, moving his hair behind his ear.

Draga shakes his head. “You are strange. Does accepting thanks under your true name so bother you?”

“My true name will bring strife to this country.”

“Maybe.”

“It will. I prefer to tell people the danger is gone as we travel. Leave people the… simplicity of victory.”

She lifts the wine cup, a little unsteadily. Her words are coming sticky from her tongue. She has to count them out as she speaks. Draga’s completely sober of course, despite having had a bottle or two to himself. Link’s asleep mostly because, as usual, he ate too much so he’s sleeping it off in a digestive coma. He smells like smoke and whatever it was Rhondson kept burning in the fire – some mineral to make the air heady and sweet. Zelda needlessly tucks Link’s hair behind his ear again; there’s a green feather in his hair – a token from Fyson. Zelda feels warm everywhere. Her face, her hands, her insides.

“I’m drunk,” she announces, a little proudly.

“Yes,” Draga says, amused. He picks up another wine bottle near his knee and offers it.

She waves him away. “Oh no. I’ve had more than enough… ceremonial wine. Thank you.” She finishes off her glass, then sets it down. “Do you think, you can… help me carry Link to bed without waking him?”

“I think he might punch me if he wakes up carried by unknown persons.”

“You’re probably right.”

She starts to touch his shoulder.

“But don’t…” Draga holds up a hand. “Don’t wake him yet. It’s fine for a moment longer.”

She sits quietly, hands in her lap instead.

“Zelda, do you and Link ever plan to face what you’ve accomplished in its entirety?”

“Why? Why not let it be legend? Let the ancient heroes rest all together?”

“Well, the Zora for one,” Draga says dryly. “I spoke with Kapson a little. He’s five-hundred and some years of age and he remembers Link as a child. He remembers you as you were the Commander of the Champions, your visitation to Zora’s Domain, your training with Mipha. All of Zora’s Domain knows you two as the very same heroes of old.” He lets that hang for a moment. “The Zora trade routes are opening again, so rumors are spreading.”

“Even if some people believe, no one will demand anything of us if we demand nothing of them.”

Draga nods. “I’m glad to hear that. You’ve earned some peace.”

Zelda laughs a little. “Well, I can’t just sit around collecting… what are these…? Ornamental bouquets and the like. I have a duty to help my people so it’s unlikely I will be taking luxurious… luxurious… um… holidays. Yes.” She swats her knee in victory, pointing. “That. I won’t be doing that.”

Draga tilts his head. “Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be right, Draga. It wouldn’t be… appropriate.”

“After one-hundred years of battle,” he says slowly, “a sabbatical is not appropriate?”

Zelda frowns at him. “Yes, Draga. It would not be right for me to just do nothing.”

He’s eyeing her. “Hmm, you should probably lie down.”

Zelda waves a hand. “I’m fine. Don’t fret about me.” She tries to brush her hair out of her face, gets orange flower dye on her nose. “Oh, this silly… goodness, I’m quite tipsy aren’t I? How embarrassing. I’m glad Link isn’t awake to see it.” She checks to make sure Link actually is not awake to see it. “Yes. Glad he’s not awake. Some priestess of Hylia I am, getting drunk and giggly after a few thanksgiving rituals. Back in my day, proper priestesses could out drink the average soldier. True fact. Maids of mirth and spring, they were called. Sisterhood of the Field. Girls of the Green.” She hiccups. “Oh goodness.”

Draga chuckles. “They sound like the war-maids of the Highlands, though, war-maids handled far more than liquor in their celebrations.” He leans back, arms braced behind him as he recollects. “I remember… seeing a battle troop when I was a child. I thought they were the Eight Heroines.”

Zelda peers curiously. “Not the Seven?”

Draga shakes his head. “No. I grew up in the Highlands before I was sent into the deep desert. The Eighth Heroine is honored in the Gerudo Highlands, so I knew her. All my family honored the lost sister in those days.”

“And now?”

Draga shrugs. “I honor her.”

“Does your family not believe anymore?”

Draga looks at her, almost surprised. “None of them are left, Zelda.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m…” She fumbles. “I’m sorry, Draga. I didn’t…”

“No, that’s my fault. I thought I told you…”

“No. I didn’t know.”

“Ah, I told Link and neglected to tell you.” He waves a hand, rolling over so he’s lying on his back, stretched out on the stones beneath the night sky. He’s so big his boots are disturbing a few of the doused lanterns lining the opposite walkway, his head cushioned by a carpet of flowers around the shrine. “It was a long time ago,” he says. “You shouldn’t feel badly mentioning it. We are all three of us the last in our lines.” He’s looking at her now, at Link too. “People like us – we should stick together while we can.”

Zelda feels her pulse rabbit, warmth flooding her face. “Yes, I… that would be good. I know Link would appreciate it.”

“And you?”

“Of course.”

He continues to look at her, then abruptly swaps to his native language. “Have you told Link how you feel – that there’s some suggestion of pre-determination in the three of us meeting?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as that,” she rejoins, carefully.

“I might,” he says. His tone is not… serious but not light. “I dream sometimes, not in prophecy, but when there are forces at work in the world near me. I am aware of them. I am aware of you two in that way – like candles at the edge of a table and I am never unaware of it.” He looks at Link, who’s still asleep against her shoulder. “I still find it strange you haven’t shared this with him. It’s not as though he’s unaware of it in an unrefined manner. He knows instinctively what we know intellectually about the rules of arcana. He senses connection.”

Zelda’s heart jumps again, but not in the nice way it did before.

Draga keeps speaking, without production or judgement. “I’m simply saying, things might be clearer more quickly if you just told him as much.”

“I will,” she murmurs. She loops an arm up behind Link’s back, laying a hand against his shoulder in such a way that she can pull him a little closer. She feels him turn his head a little against her neck, his breath against her collarbone. She sighs. “I just… I would like him to be free of such a thing for a little while longer.”

“Free of what?” he says in Hylian now.

“Pre-determination. Destiny. Just… meddling.”

Draga arches a brow. “Meddling?”

“Yes, meddling. The goddess or her acolytes.”

Draga rolls onto his side, propping his chin on his fist. “It’s not necessarily the gods. When was the last time either of you crossed paths with anyone inclined to magic?”

“Not… recently.”

“Then be at ease. Power attracts power; tell him that. Read nothing divine into it.” He shrugs. “I don’t.”

“Draga, your magic…” She shakes her head a little. “You don’t have to tell me why this is, but when I look at your power through the lens of my own ability…I don’t know its shape. I feel it working. I see it sometimes, but it’s… at such a depth within you. I see its effects, like wind in the trees, a course of water turned aside, some small or great change made with… such terrible exactness. It seems so strange…”

“No, it’s just not Hylian,” he says simply. “The Gift runs in my bloodline, much like yours. It’s taken years of focus to find absolute control. And in having such, I have reached the limits of my strength.” His tone takes on a slightly bitter edge. “If I were to expand my power, I would need to call on greater forces than myself and I am not willing to do it.” He looks at her. “I’m stupid that way.”

She doesn’t mean to laugh. It just happens.

He gives her a half smile. “You and Link should come with me when I return to Gerudo Town. It would be honored if you were there as witness.” He shrugs. “And if Link is a friend of Riju and the Gerudo then… honestly, it may help my case before her council.”

“I see,” Zelda cajoles. “Using us for our connections. I see how it is.”

He snorts. “I mean, what else are you good for?”

“How dare you. Cooking! We are good for that.”

“Link is good at cooking. Not you.”

“Fighting!”

“Eh, I can fight well enough without you two and your… dramatics.”

“Lively conversation.”

“Link is mostly mute and when he’s not, he enjoys puns.”

“We’re both… very attractive,” she sputters, not exactly sure why she went for that one. It just seemed… there.

Draga eyes her. He really looks at her. He’s just kind of lounging there, like a mountain lion might do were it a solid, seven-and-a-half-foot person in boots and good traveling gear. She is, of course, red-faced and swaying, trying to glare back while her arm goes numb because Link’s been leaning on it. Draga kind of… looks her up and down with just his eyes. Then he casts the same lazy inspection over Link – still dead asleep, arms folded across his stomach, one leg drawn up, his face pressed against her bare shoulder where her sleeve slid down. She’s not sure why she hadn’t noticed until Draga looked directly at it – the spot where Link’s jaw is resting against her shoulder, skin to skin. She’s not sure why that, of all things, would be worthy of hyper-focus and yet…

Draga gives a dismissive shrug. “Eh.”

Zelda uses such force to hurl a flower wreath at him, she wakes Link in an alarmed flail.

Draga just laughs.

They find trouble in the Eldin Foothills.

“Link! Wait! There are too many –!”

Too late. Link and Epona are racing full speed down the hill, charging with speed and power that seems impossible for the stocky mare. Zelda curses as her own steed, Maru, canters backwards from the scent of blood and Moblins. Arbiter, however, is unshaken. The massive stallion charges down the hill after Link, Draga urging the beast to a terrifying speed that gains ground even on Epona’s seasoned pace. There’s a storm on the edge of the horizon, cresting the Eldin mountain range. A flash of lightning over Death Mountain illuminates in bone white the sight that set Link off:

The ruined merchant caravan in flames. Corpses stacked on the roadside. Rage make her knight blind to the army in front of him – bristling with halberds, twenty, no, thirty Bokoblin deep. Five mounted archers. Two Moblins rising up from their feeding – jaws dark with blood and vague, predatory intelligence. Link doesn’t see that though, Zelda knows. He’s seeing the next hundred moves in killing them all.

Draga’s not blind though and he doesn’t seem to have one-hundred moves in mind.

He drags Arbiter into Epona’s wake, lifts one fist over his head. Zelda feels the world flex. He clenches it.

The ground explodes under two of the mounted archers. They scream, flung fifty feet up, the horses shrieking and bucking even as they fall into the company and crush five more. Link fires off an explosive round into the heart of the raider cluster and blows three to screaming hunks of meat. Then he swings right with Epona and Draga swings left with Arbiter, flanking around the edge of the group and by then the Gerudo has the hooked claymore in hand. He’s rising in his saddle, the blade rising up with him. He runs down the remaining mounted archers in seconds. He doesn’t duck their arrows. The bolts glance off him like they’ve struck steel and before they realize their mistake – the power protecting him – Draga cleaves them both in half. One swing.

Then he bears down on the rest of the mob.

Link, in the same time, puts three arrows in three skulls before Epona tramples through two Bokoblin. She whips around into a tight galloping half-circle, confusing the white-backed Moblin at the center of the group. Towering tall as a house, the beast thrashes its jackal head and roars. Link’s already round its back, then the front – arrow nocked to the string, he puts two bolts in its throat. When it bucks back, blood spraying from the wound, he puts two self-igniting rounds in its ribs then kicks Epona into a figure-eight as the beast burns from the inside out.

He loops around the second, larger Moblin at the head of the group.

This one, wielding a sword and a shield the size of a door, sees him coming.

Link isn’t bothered. He fires off two shots, the shafts ricocheting off the shield, keeps Epona at full gallop, her hooves cutting up the turf with the speed of the maneuver. She dives down suddenly and in the same moment, Link steps one foot from the stirrup and onto the cantle. Epona then rears in the same instant Link’s other foot finds the swell and the force launches him up, over the top of Moblin’s shield. Link puts one shaft through the beast’s right eye and drops. He hits the ground rolling and comes up with the blade in hand, shield hooked to his arm as the Moblin rears, roaring but not dead.

Three foot-soldiers charge him.

Link twists as a pike strikes for his ribs but catches the edge of the shield. Too close. Link spins, once, against the length of the weapon and his blade finds the lancer’s throat. He steps again, pivots, hacks down a wounded blue-hide, then slams his sword through a white-hide Bokoblin’s gut. He ignores the death-flails, talons catching the side of his head. He just rears back and slams the edge of his shield into the monster’s snout, crushing its face and smashing it into the mud. He’s breathing hard now, turns his attention back to the Moblin as it goes rabid, foaming at the mouth, maddened by the bolt in its brain.

Link starts forward at a run.

But Draga – having finished off the rest of the mob in the interim – gallops in behind the giant and brings his sword down on its neck as he passes. Link skids to a stop as the head rolls to his feet. Draga circles with Arbiter, blood running the length of the blade, the only sign he’s been in battle at all.

“You alright?”

Link ignores the question. He sheathes the sword, slinging his shield over his shoulder as he races through the wreckage.

“Link,” Draga calls, “Link!”

Zelda knows exactly where he’s going.

She’s already there in fact – pulling bodies off the top of the heap, checking each one as she does for some sign of life. She’s not sure when her arms became strong enough for the task of dragging a dead man from a funeral pyre, when she got the strength to carry a girl her own age (not her age, the age she once was) and lay her body down in the grass. When she looks up, Link’s too close. He catches her around the waist and pulls her away, hooks an arm around her chest and drags her. He has to throw her in the grass up the hill to hold her back, grab her arms when she pushes him.

“They’re gone!” he shouts. He’s bleeding from a wound she can’t see in his hairline. “Zelda! Stop!”

She hits him. “You stop!” She slaps him. Like any of it was his fault. “No!”

He’s pinning her, arms around her, mostly with his weight. He’s not a very big person, so she’s not sure how he can weight this much. She kicks until she can’t, until she’s raw from shouting, and his blood is soaked through her shirt. Then just lies there, staring at the thunderhead rolling over Hyrule Field knowing that it will takes hours to ride back to a settlement, days for word to reach the next of kin, and after one-hundred years, time is rushing away from her.

“Damn,” she whispers.

Link pulls back just enough so he’s looking her in the face.

Draga is climbing the hill behind them, but stops to wait. Watching.

“I’m okay.” She reaches up and with two fingers pushes his hair back so she can see where the blood’s running from, careful to avoid the glow of heat across his cheekbone. “That’ll scar,” she says, “unless I heal it. Help me up.”

Link takes her hands and pulls her to her feet.

Three days later, they have a nightmare.

This time, Zelda jerks awake, lathed cold with sweat and shaking. The moon is silver in the sky above. She lies there, breathing too fast and biting back the scream that sits in her like a nesting animal. She smells chemicals – sulfuric and mercury in her throat. Not real. Not real. She swallows and rolls over to find Link still sleeping, but fitful. He’s tossing his head a little, hair stuck to his sweat-sticky skin, lips parted with fast shallow breathing that occasionally breaks on a low, anxious moan.

She rolls out of her sleeping cot.

“Link.”

She starts to touch his shoulder.

“Don’t.”

She stops.

Draga is sitting up, looking at her from across their small camp. “Don’t touch him.”

She blinks and sits back on her heels as the other man gets up and moves quickly to Link’s side, kneeling so he can lean over him. He quickly yanks something unseen from Link’s hand opposite her. She realizes, far too slowly, that it was the hilt of the sacred sword. He was holding it in his sleep. Draga assigns no drama to this, just puts it aside, grips Link by the biceps and give him a solid shake. Link wrenches once, violently, in the other man’s grasp but Draga is braced for it and just leans back slightly.

“Link?” he says calmly.

Link, laying, panting in the grass but awake now, just nods. Draga lets go, stands up, and moves away from him.

Zelda shifts forward then. “You okay?”

For a moment, Link just lies there, staring up at her. A weird emotion crosses into his eyes. He starts signing, slowly, “Did you see Draga?”

He takes care to spell Draga’s name instead of pointing physically at the man, who is crouched nearby, tossing new logs on the fire and pretending not to listen to their one-sided conversation.

Zelda tilts her head, then shakes it slowly. “In the dream…? No? What do you mean?”

He shakes his head ‘never mind’ then stands up.

‘Going on a walk,’ he signs. He takes the divine blade, slinging it over his shoulder and, when he notices the looks she and Draga are giving him, he clears his throat and says, “I’m fine.”

“He’s not fine,” Draga says once Link is out of earshot.

“I know,” Zelda says. “But I’m not sure what to do about it.”

Draga grunts and moves to stand up, stretching slightly. “That’s because you’re both green.”

Zelda draws up, offended, but… relieved at his tone: conversational. Unconcerned. “You are at the end of your Pilgrimage. You’re… no more than twenty-three. I am over one-hundred years old; you can’t call me ‘green’.”

“You can’t order a drink at a bar.”

Zelda mutters under her breath, then says, “So what’s your adult opinion on our situation?”

Draga shrugs. It’s like a mountain being indifferent. “Does he drink?”

“Excuse me?”

“He didn’t drink at Tarrey Town. I get the feeling Link would be a talkative drunk.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she snaps, flopping back into her cot and glaring at the canopy. “I don’t very well imagine Link would appreciate you… you scheming about getting him drunk.” Her words don’t have any teeth and they both know it. She sighs. “I actually have never seen him drunk. For all I know, he would be talkative.” A beat. “Well, I guess there was that one time with the frog…” She regrets saying that immediately when Draga’s eyebrows go up. “Not that I’m condoning your terrible methods! Only pointing out that for all our familiarity there is still… a lot I don’t know about him and he about me.”

“So, I take it you two aren’t sleeping together?”

Zelda jack-knifes into a sitting position. “Excuse me?!”

“No.” Draga scratches his chin. “I thought not.”

“That is an extremely personal question.”

“Is it?” He wrinkles his nose. “I guess we’re more pragmatic about that kind of thing in Gerudo culture and since you’ve both confessed to being hundred-year-old figures of legend… questions about your personal life seem fair game to me.”

“We’re friends! I’ve said that before!”

“Right, but friends can still sleep together.”

Zelda feels her face getting red. “We don’t.”

Draga chuckles. “So you don’t think Link is attractive?”

“Oh please, every man woman and Zora in the kingdom fawns over him. Leave me out of it.” A beat. “Why are we even talking about this? We were talking about… about battle recovery. I’m sure this was brought on by the fight is all.”

Draga tilts head. “Back on mission, little sister. You’re very one-track minded, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I just might mind it,” she grits.

“I’m talking about whether you sleep together, because I was curious if you two have interests outside of this endless gauntlet of service and battle you’ve dedicated yourselves to.” Draga’s tone is not teasing now. “I am asking, if you’ve really removed yourselves from fighting long enough to heal.” Draga points into the tree line. “Link sleeps like a soldier, has nightmares like a one. You can’t seem to sleep at all. You both carry your wounds well, but you don’t have to.”

“I am not wounded,” Zelda whispers.

“You don’t fight for one-hundred years and walk away unwounded, Zelda.”

“I am fine! Link… Link is the one who –” Died. “The one who had to fight. If anyone needs help it would be him, not me.”

“I wager if I asked him about you, he would say the exact same thing.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t,” Draga says calmly. “How could anyone? You two are displaced in time and goddess-chosen. I’ve known you just long enough to learn the latter and had I another hundred years, I don’t know if I could ever advise you how to carry such experience.” He sighs, some of the tension leaving his stance and he drops one hand to his hip. “But… were you both simply… warriors in my command: I would tell you to lay down your arms and rest –”

“I can’t!”

Zelda kicks off her blankets and comes to her feet.

“I was a commander! We failed so the fault is mine. I failed my entire kingdom and the least I can to is just…” She stares into her empty palms and drops them as fists. “The least I can do is help them now.” She’s mortified. Her entire face is hot. She jams the heels of her hands against her eyes, like she can shove the tears away, drag them across her temples like war paint. She throws her arms down. “Don’t you dare tell me to stop! I can’t do that. I don’t get to lay down anything because I’m Zelda Bosphoramus and that is my… my duty!”

Draga’s expression is neutral, listening. She can’t glean anything from it.

“I appreciate what you’re saying and… I’m sorry yelled.” Zelda gets her breathing under control, pushes her hair behind her ears. “I just can’t agree with you there. I do agree… that Link deserves time to stop, but I just don’t know how to tell him that and make him understand that I can do this alone for a while. That’s the real problem. Alright? I just keep… dragging him into this and he shouldn’t have to.”

Draga’s not looking at her. He’s looking past her.

Dread takes root in her tongue.

It takes her a full two seconds to get the courage, then she looks over her shoulder where (of course) Link is standing at the edge of the camp, one hand against the trunk of an oak tree, just… looking at her. And she can’t read the look on his face – one of those blank canvas stares meant to be projected into, the kind he developed over years of pressure and politics, onto which any person could imagine their best version of him and keep the faith. It makes her want to hit him when she sees it. Then that makes her hate herself, because she’s the reason he’s looking at her like that.

“Link?” she says. She turns to face him. “I wasn’t calling you a problem. That’s not what I –”

He makes an abortive hand-gesture so she stops talking. When he’s sure he has her attention he raises his hands and she knows what he’s going to say before he begins the gentle palm-tilted sweep: ‘Not your fault –”

Zelda covers her face so she can’t see. No. That’s not fair. She forces herself to lower her hands. “I was in command. The fault will always be with me, Link. The Champions, Hyrule’s army, you – all those deaths… it’s all my responsibility. It’s fine. I’ve always known –”

Link shakes his head.

“Yes, it is.”

He just shakes his head again.

“Stop saying that!” She wipes the tears running tracks down her face. “How can you say that?”

Link moves forward to put a hand on her shoulder, tries says something, but his voice doesn’t come through. He breathes out angrily. Then with his hands, he signs, ‘Because I say it to myself.’ He dips his head a little, mirroring her a little, making certain she’s looking at him, that she sees him. ‘It is not your fault.”

Zelda becomes aware of her nails digging into her palms only when Link takes her fists in his palms. He just keeps looking at her, until her fingers unwind and, eventually, fold into his. He holds her hands tightly, until her bones ache, until the calm fixed-point blue of his stare draws down the rage behind her teeth. She’s breathing hard. Simultaneously, she can’t breathe. Something visibly buckles in Link’s calm. He drops her hands, grabs her head between his hands and – He’s never done that before. Touched her that suddenly, without forewarning, in a quiet moment. She can’t remember the last time Link ever – he drops his forehead against hers.

“Stop,” he says. His breath against her face warms the bridge of her nose. “Stop thinking.”

She bursts out laughing

Or crying.

Both.

She’s not sure. She doesn’t care. She’s too tired. Zelda just sobs and drops her forehead against his shoulder, lets Link loop his arms around her and just… hold her there for a moment. He lays his cheek against the top of her head and his shirt smells like cotton and grass and the pressure on her ribs and shoulders will never be enough. The quick, brotherly kiss in her hair will never be enough. If she put her lips on his, put her mouth on every inch of skin, her hands on every part of him, it would never be enough to explain this phantom pain – like she was supposed to be him. Like they were supposed to be something else, together. There’s not a word for that.

So…

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

She can feel, even though she cannot see, that Draga left some time ago. She knows, but can’t explain how she knows, that he won’t come back until the morning. When he comes back after dawn, he’ll find them sleeping like dead things under a pile of blankets, Zelda’s head against Link’s chest where the constant steady rhythm reassures her the world did not end. It’s the longest she’s had slept in months.

go to chapter 4...

#legend of zelda #loz #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda breath of the wild #link #zelda #ganondorf #lozfic #platonic until its not #post game fic #contains hugs for everyone who needs them #rae writes #raewrites

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