"...'ncle..?" Legend muttered, shifting his face to bury it in the soft fat of Sky's stomach. Even through layers of fabric, the heat radiating off the teen's forehead was enough to make Sky wince.
That, however, was nothing but a passing thought.
"Mhm, that's right. I'm right here, Link, it's okay..." Sky assured, threading his fingers into Legend's hair without hesitation.
Was it a mistake? Sky hopes not, but hearing the small noise the Veteran hero makes...
"I missed you..." Sky's doubts die with those three muttered words, uttered with such raw vulnerability it almost makes him cry.
"Awe, it's okay buddy. I'm here now, alright? It's all okay..." Sky cooed, knowing damn well that once this sickness passes Legend will remember none of this, but his heart breaking nonetheless.
"Mmkay..." Legend shifted slightly, resting his full weight on the older hero's legs and nestling into his arms. "...'ncle? I don'... feel so good.."
"Yeah I bet, you're pretty sick..." Sky said softly, his fingers absentmindedly carding through the delirious veteran's hair and voice rumbling slightly.
'Pretty sick' was an understatement. Legend had forgotten about a stab wound and left it for weeks to get infected, then proceeded to collapse with a fever. He'd been delirious for the past two days, barely waking up enough to sip water and broth. To make matters worse, the group was stranded out in the woodlands of some random Hyrule with no towns in sight. Thankfully the lands seemed healthy enough for Wild to forage and cook hearty dishes... but still.
"..'m I gonna die?" Legend whispered, looking up at Sky without a trace of recognition but a world of vulnerability and fear. Small tears started to form in those glassy eyes.
"No, no, you're gonna be all okay. I won't let anything bad happen to you, alright? It's okay, it's okay..." Sky gently uttered, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his hairline.
"Mmn... promise..?" Legend's eyelids drooped, his battle to stay conscious slipping with every passing second.
Quietly settling beside the Skyloftian, Warriors gently handed him a mug. He wore a firm, yet worried expression on his face.
"I promise. But first, you have to drink this, okay? It'll make you feel better. You can go back to sleep then." Sky gently nudged Legend's lips with the brim of the mug.
Too sleepy to object, Legend obliged and started taking small, slow sips until the mug was fully emptied. In Sky's words, Legend resembled a sleepy remlit; cuddling up to the older hero in a way he'd never dare to if fully conscious. Nobody would dare take advantage of that vulnerability; not even Warriors, for all the two teased eachother.
Now, though, Sky slowly laid himself down on his bedroll, keeping an arm securely holding Legend close. With his prickly barriers down, Legend let himself melt into the warm embrace, feeling so safe and secure that in his last seconds of awareness he started crying.
"I love you..." Three words muttered with sincerity, and the sickly hero passed out once again.
(I'm not sure how this happened, but it did. I think maybe it's the idea that Legend's subconscious recognises Sky as a similar presence to his uncle that when he's caught in such delirium he mistakes them? Idk, but yeah, I hope you liked reading this !!)
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hey guys i think i broke my record player needle the DAY my glass houses & desire vinyls arrived. war and hate
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It's four am here's a lil poem about a selkie.
Rageborn spittle.
Slobber from the jowls of a hound. It turns white. Drools forth with the taste of last night’s dinner as it drags over craggy shore.
Jaw stretched full, it snarls. Displeased that it cannot swallow the beach whole.
Soft speckled flipper. Newborn pup.
She opens her eyes and stars blanket black pools. Above her there is movement. Vibrant, lyrical whisper.
With her first breath, her lungs inflate with sky and song.
Mother wolf’s body is vast, her fur is endless and alive. There are others here. She can feel them in her mouth.
Sisters. She thinks. Sleeping, dancing, biting, eating. She is never to be alone.
The stars are a part of her now and she rolls in the surf, chubby body adrift in soft foam.
The tide tells her of her name. It tells who she will be. Against the swell of mother’s breast, the pup’s first thought is that of acceptance.
One day, she hopes her body will be just as endless. She hopes to swallow the sky just as mother swallows the earth.
The pup’s tongue drags over her teeth and they are strong and sharp.
What a gift it is to be given a tongue.
Slithery wicked tongue.
Forms words. Forms body. Nested in thick hide she is free to speak all curses that are now known to her.
Thick eyelashes fall upon rounded cheeks and fingers skim through ragged hair. The wind rips through her body and its curses are met with bubbling laughter.
Such anger! Such wisdom! Words beyond any definition. Words older than mother sea and sister sky.
Extending her fingers, biting cold fills her veins. Kiss full of promise, it speaks honesty into her bones.
One day she’ll meet something that wants to steal her body just as she wants to steal the sky.
That's okay, she thinks. You aren’t meant to keep your body.
Wind is an old woman, and she has no body. Mother sea is a wolf and she is bodiless just as she is endless.
Come, the pup speaks to the horizon.
Come now and see me and see what you will rip from my flesh.
Will you eat me? She wonders.
You will not be able to swallow.
It will settle cold in your gullet. She will bleed only stars.
Perhaps you will only look. Afraid of fatty tissue and blubber that sticks to your teeth.
Perhaps you will touch.
Soft flipper. Speckled hide. Thick eyelashes curtain hearth warmed cheek.
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