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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 month

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

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

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

Chapter 15: Fallen Knight - The Chase

Tilieth knew Abel didn’t really pray anymore.

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

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

Tilieth was always sad to see it.

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

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

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

What are you doing, Abel?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There could be guardians!

But Abel was there.

There could be monsters!

But Abel was there.

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

She should wait for him to return.

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

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

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

I can do this. Abel needs me.

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

And then she saw them.

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

When… what?

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

Heavy breaths, screaming, sobs.

Worried voices, warmth, softness.

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

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

Good heavens, why did her head hurt so much?

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

Outside. She’d been outside, right?

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

Why had she been outside?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then why was he…?

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

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

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

Been outside too. They’d both been—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M-my… my word?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your word,” Sir Abel growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

An empty bed.

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

And then she remembered last night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tilieth stared. He… he what?

He left?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Abel—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lady Impa sighed heavily.

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

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

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

Please be okay, Abel. Please be okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The castle?!

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

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

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

The pair disappeared in streams of light once more.

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

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

The beast fell in one blow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had to reach him.

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

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

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

She couldn’t get to him.

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

It was a Hylian.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was—but Tilieth—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her injury had been from… him? How?!

What had happened?!

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

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

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

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

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

But that life was already on the line.

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

And she rushed for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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bikananjarrus · 2 years

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realized that riley never got to find out that ellie was immune and even though she died first, she died with the knowledge that ellie would follow soon after but ellie never did. and ellie probably definitely spent her whole life with survivor’s guilt because she lived while riley died, but in the end, riley probably would’ve been really happy to know that ellie got a second chance to keep living. but she never got the chance to say that and ellie never got to hear it

#it’s fine i’m fine i’m— 😭😭😭#just thinking about riley holding ellie’s hand for however long they had left #turns out for riley it wasn’t very long and ellie had to hold onto riley’s memory for the rest of her life #literally screaming and crying and throwing up #the last of us #tlou spoilers #tlou hbo #tlou hbo spoilers #riley abel #ellie williams #ellie x riley

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greatgiiginthesky · 1 year

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my father’s daughter

when the doves cry, prince / zach bryan on tiktok / cat’s in the cradle, harry chapin / adam raised a cain, bruce springsteen

#mood #text #music #prince #when the doves cry #the artist formerly known as prince #zach bryan #tiktok #tik tok #cats in the cradle #harry chapin #lyrics #adam raised a cain #bruce springsteen #cain and abel #klassikproductions #web weaving

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dinagifs1 · 2 years

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“Was Riley a terrorist?”

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #Ellie Williams #bella ramsey #marlena #merle dandridge #riley abel #im ugly crying like her reaction is PREFECT #got damn it the left behind ep is going to kill me

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thundergrace · 2 years

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“Like Bella said when episode 3 came out: If you don’t like it, don’t watch,” Reid told Entertainment Weekly in an interview. “We are telling important stories. We’re telling stories of people’s experiences, and that’s what I live for. That’s what makes good storytelling because we are telling stories of people who are taking up space in the world.”

“It’s 2023. If you’re concerned about who I love, then I need you to get your priorities straight,” she said. “There’s so many other things to worry about in life. Why are you concerned that these young people — or anybody — love each other? Love is beautiful, and the fact that people have things to say about it, it’s just nonsense.”

#storm reid #riley abel #the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #homophobes watching the gayest zombie apocalypse show ever #just so they can cry about it being gay #are the biggest losers of 2023 already #also i love that she reads bella's interviews

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mysterious-secret-garden · 1 year

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Friedrich Heinrich Füger - Adam and Eve Mourn the Dead Abel, 1799.

#Friedrich Heinrich Füger #Adam and Eve Mourn the Dead Abel #cain and abel #found dead #dead #death #adam and eve #on your knees #praying #ecstacy #mourning #crying

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thisisyouridol · 7 months

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THE BEAST IS AWAKENINGGGG trigger warning for my beuatiful princesses ⬇️

#content (of mine)#devil may cry #wow its been so long…. so so so long #dante #dante dmc #vergil #vergil dmc #tw gore sh whateverrrr #omg wat was rheir tags #hold on #♟ not abel #☎️ personal jesus #ITS BEEN SO FUCKING LONG.

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abel-brannigan · 4 months

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Mr Dickens said you cried to him about Bunny

“NO I DIDNT! HES LYING! I DONY EVEN CARE ABOUT HIM!”

#//hes gonna cry again #ask #anon ask #abel brannigan ask blog #anon

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toointojoelmiller · 1 year

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alone together: a last of us fic

Prompt submitted by @eedsknees

read at ao3 here

When they finally stop walking the daylight isn’t far off from fully disappearing.

He doesn’t say anything to her. Hasn’t - not a single word since he’d left Tess behind to die alone and dragged her along, screaming and slapping at him. The only signal he gives that they’re stopping is shrugging his pack from his shoulders and dropping it to the ground.

Ellie glances around them and sees the same thing she has for the last few hours - trees, dirt. There’s a narrow stream of water that trickles downhill towards what looks like a creek, but it’s hard to see very far with the dark starting to settle in around them.

Joel isn’t looking at her. Doesn’t seem like he’s looking at anything, really - he mostly has his back turned to her, but she can still make out the profile of his face. His eyes are closed. His fists are clenching and unclenching at his sides like he’s trying not to punch something, which is concerning. There aren’t a lot of targets around other than her and the trees.

And she doubts he’s feeling pissed off at the fucking forest.

A ripple of fresh fear rises up like bile in her throat. She fights it - he hadn’t spoken to her since they walked away from that blown up building, but he hadn’t done anything to her either, and she tries to keep that piece of information at the front of her mind to keep herself calm, because getting worked up won’t help anything. It’s been just the two of them for hours, she tells herself. Plenty of time for him to ditch her, if he was going to. Or beat the shit out of her. Or do whatever else the dark anger he’s wearing all over his face pushes him to do.

She’s trying to keep the other moments in mind too - the ones that hinted that maybe he wasn’t as much of an asshole as he seemed, and that she’s clinging to like a life raft.

Like how he’d crawled over to her when that thing was getting closer and she was frozen in fear, about to be ripped apart (and about to shit her fucking pants if she’s honest) - and how he’d thrown his arms up to block it when it lunged at them, pushing to keep it off of her and almost getting bitten in the process.

Or how he’d yanked her arm so hard when the explosion happened that she nearly yelped in shock before she realized he was pulling her behind him as he raised his gun, in case any infected that somehow made it out of the blast. Like he was actually trying to protect her.

“You must have heard that he wants to shoot you,” Tess had said. She shivers and tells herself it’s just from the cold.

“Stay here,” Joel says suddenly, his voice sounding weird. She nearly jumps in surprise, and by the time she registers what he’s said he’s already walking away into the trees.

A flicker of anger sparks up and she forgets for a second that she’s afraid of him. “Where are you going?” she asks loudly, getting angrier when he doesn’t respond. She loses sight of him quickly. “You’re a fucking dick,” she breathes under her breath. And then she repeats it, louder, half hoping he can hear.

She takes her own bag off her back roughly and swings it hard onto the ground, wincing at her mini temper tantrum.

She can’t believe there are two now. Two people she’s known who’ve gotten infected while she was there, and died - well, Tess blowing into pieces a few hundred feet away wasn’t exactly the same as -

She has to squeeze her eyes shut as it flashes in her mind - the heavy wet splatter that tore out of Riley’s head, the slow twitches that rolled through her body once, twice - was it her or the fucking fungus moving her fingers like that? - she fell on her side as she died - blood spilling out of her mouth, over the lips that Ellie had finally been brave enough to kiss.

At least she’s alone when the tears that have been threatening to spill over all evening finally do. She brushes them roughly off her face and drops to her knees, rummaging through her bag until she finds Riley’s fucking Firefly pendant. She’s too afraid of breaking the chain and losing it to keep it on all of the time, but she puts it around her neck now, tucking it into her shirt and focusing on the feeling of the metal touching her skin.

Everything is so fucked up. All one big nightmare. Riley kissed her back - after so long imagining it and wishing for it it actually happened. It made her feel soft and warm and happy like she never had before, and then the world flipped over to show it’s rotted underbelly and nothing could ever go back to the way it was.

She hears Joel coming back before she sees him, branches cracking in the trees as he gets closer. He doesn’t even look in her direction when he emerges, going to his bag and digging out the little bundle of wax paper he and Tess had kept their rations wrapped up in. He sits down, leaning his back up against a tree, sighing heavily and groaning as he does like he’s a hundred fucking years old.

It’s a nervous thing she does sometimes, talking when she shouldn’t. She doesn’t know why she bothers with him - especially doesn’t know why this is the topic she decides to break the silence with - but she hears herself being an absolute moron and asking, “What’s with all the like, sticks or whatever in the dirt?”

He looks, finally, for the first time in hours. Glares at her, actually, his brow furrowing even farther down somehow. He doesn’t say anything - just stares.

She points to them, even though they’re all over and he really shouldn’t have a hard time seeing them for himself - hard, horizontal cords of wood that rise up from the dirt for a foot or so before burying back under the earth.

“Ain’t sticks,” he huffs at her, scowling. “They’re roots. From all the trees?” The ‘idiot’ goes unspoken, but she can hear it in his voice just the same.

It’s annoying as hell, how he looks like he’s mad at her for not knowing that - like she’s ever been in a fucking forest before. She decides to be the bigger person and let it go, because she’s not a miserable fucking old man, but her irritation makes her a bit more bold than she probably should be and she keeps talking.

“So we’re staying here for the night?” Ellie asks.

He’s back to keeping his face turned away from her as he snaps, talking through the food in his mouth, “Where the hell else would we be stayin’?”

“I don’t fucking know, man, that’s why I’m asking!” She snaps back. “You haven’t said a fucking word to me, how am I supposed to know what’s going on?!”

“It’s gonna be dark in a few minutes - sorry for thinkin’ you might put two and two together.” His voice is harsh as he says it. “Shoulda known better.”

Fuming, Ellie sits down and crosses her arms in front of her chest, glaring at the prick who can’t even look her in the eyes when he insults her.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she hisses before she can think any better of it.

“Yeah, I am,” he says roughly, and she’s done trying to convince herself otherwise.

Asshole, asshole, asshole. She hurls it at him over and over again in her head.

Watching him eat makes her own stomach start rumbling. She yanks her bag over to her lap and digs out the last of her sandwich, regretting her hissy fit from a moment before when she unwraps the cloth to see that it's apparently not well built enough to survive being hurtled to the ground.

She stares at the mess of bread and filling for a moment before trying to reassemble it with her hands the best she can. It’s still falling apart, and it would probably be easier to lower her head down and try to eat it without having to lift it up so high, but she can’t resist giving in to the petty and immature part of her that hopes he’ll see her eating it and long for some for himself.

Like I’d share with you, fuck face, she thinks at him as hard as she can.

She just ends up with scraps of food all over her lap.

When she’s done eating, she’s overcome suddenly with the urge to just be alone. Get away from him. She stands up quickly and turns from him without a word, walking down hill, following the little stream of water. He doesn’t ask where she’s going because he doesn’t give a shit and that’s just fine.

Her eyes are still watery, a bit blurry with tears from time to time. When she reaches the bottom of the hill she nearly loses her footing, stepping out of the treeline and off of the dirt onto rock covered ground. She was right about the water running down into a creek, but it’s a lot bigger than she’d imagined. It’s probably a cool sight, when there’s enough light to see by, but right now it feels a bit like the world is going to cave in on her with the way the ground slopes up away from the rocks and water in almost every direction.

She picks a random spot and plops herself down. Bugs are swarming her face. Rocks dig into her legs through her jeans. She closes her eyes and tries to breathe.

He was her partner - he can’t be that bad - another refrain she’d been leaning on to try to keep herself chill about it all. It didn’t seem all that convincing now that it was just the two of them.

There could have been a lot of reasons Tess worked with Joel, and none of them required him to be the same kind of person as her. They were obviously different - Tess was in charge, and he was just the fucking attack dog. There’d been a few times Ellie had seen a FEDRA dog tearing into someone. She wonders how long it’ll be before he does it to her, now that there’s no one holding onto his leash?

Tess didn’t take any bullshit but she wasn’t a dick about it, either. It was almost embarrassing how quickly Ellie had started to like her, but it was hard not to - she answered Ellie’s questions, and asked her own back like she actually gave a shit. Acted like she actually cared if Ellie got ripped apart by a monster. More than she’d gotten from 99% of the adults she’d ever interacted with. ‘You got some balls on you, sister’, she’d said - offhand, and definitely not meant to carry half the weight it had to Ellie.

Thinking about Tess’s absence makes her chest start to feel tight, so she focuses instead on being mad at herself, at how pathetic it is, to get attached to someone she’d known for like, one fucking day. Classic fucking orphan bullshit.

She might be even more pissed off at herself for the way she always gets her hopes up, no matter how many times life tries to teach her that there’s no fucking point. All it ever does is hurt - but Riley said once that she liked that about her. “It’s kinda cute,” she’d teased, and Ellie had thrown her pillow across the room at her, hoping Riley wouldn’t see the way she blushed.

For the thousandth time, she wonders why she couldn’t have just died in that mall with the only person who ever really cared about her. Marlene said she survived because she has a ‘greater purpose’ - and all she can think is that it’d better fucking be true, because right now it just feels like she lost the chance to die while the memory of the best moment of her life was still fresh. It’s only been a few weeks, but that kiss is already starting to feel less and less real in her memory. Fuzzy at the edges.

Ellie sits there for too long. It’s the bugs buzzing in her ears and landing on her face that piss her off enough to finally decide to go back. By the time she gets to her feet and takes a look around she realizes just how dark it’s gotten - she can barely make out which spot in the trees she had come out of on her way down. Stupid - should have brought the flashlight with her.

She takes her time, stepping carefully and slowly on the rocky ground so she doesn’t loose her footing. After a few close calls she finally gets off the rocks and back to the dirt, sighing a little with relief as she starts to make her way back uphill.

It’s a lot easier to walk in the dark with somewhat even ground underneath, so she moves a bit quicker, but the trip back up the hill is really taking it out of her. She’s fucking drained - probably won't have any trouble sleeping, despite having just about every reason to.

She thinks she must almost be back to the spot Joel had randomly decided was their camp for the night when one of her feet catches on something she can’t see. Probably one of the fucking roots. She pitches forward, scrambling not to lose her balance, and thinks for a second that she’s saved herself from falling, but her sneaker lands on a patch of loose dirt. It immediately gives way, sliding out from under her, and it’s game over. She slams down onto the ground, landing with one of her arms bent weird underneath of her. There’s instant pain shooting through her wrist and her elbow. She smacks her chin hard as she hits the dirt, too, flooding her mouth with warm metallic blood as her teeth dig into her tongue.

“Fuck!” She hisses into the dirt, breathing through the first initial seconds of pain before spitting out a mouthful of blood and rolling onto her back. She cautiously lifts her arm and tries moving it to see what damage she’s done. If her wrist is broken it must be a small break - she thinks, anyway, because she can still bend it in most directions if she really tries to - but it feels fucked enough to make her a bit queasy. A throbbing ache is settling deeply into it, radiating up her forearm, and when she tries to extend her arm there’s an unsettling twinge in her elbow.

As a bonus, she notices there’s a long wooden splinter poking up out of her palm, too - she grunts as she tugs it out, barely able to see it. Hoping she got it all. Blood trickles out of the gouge, a dark line running down the pale skin of her palm, just barely visible in the darkness that seems to be getting deeper by the second.

Laying on her back lets the blood from her tongue start to pool sickeningly at the back of her throat. She scrambles to her feet in a rage, wanting to scream until her throat is raw, but not as much as she wants to make sure he doesn’t hear her - nothing would be worse than him seeing her like this - seeing what she’s managed to do to herself when there’s no actual fucking danger around. It’s the sort of thing that will make him take off on her - can’t let him see how much of a fuck up she can be.

She forces herself to grit her teeth and marches the rest of the way back, spitting the blood out from her mouth every few seconds as it keeps building up. Her teeth are aching from how hard they’d clattered.

Joel is laying down by the time she gets back, facing away from her. She looks around in the dark for a sort of flat spot to lay down, as far away from him as she can get, but she cuts the search short and just picks at random when a sound makes it way out of her involuntarily - a bit of a moan, or a gasp. She sounds fucking weird - horrified to recognize it as the way she gets when she’s going to cry hard.

She’d rather get shredded into ribbons by a fucking clicker than cry in front of Joel right now, but her tears start pouring down her face anyway, so she sinks down to her knees, folding forward and pressing her forehead onto the ground. She’s shaking - it’s easier to pretend it’s from the cold, because it’s actually sort of freezing now that the sun is gone, and her jacket definitely isn’t warm enough - but she’s lying to herself.

“Fucking fuck,” she whispers as quietly as she can, biting down on her cheek. She can feel the sobs fighting to make their way through her chest. Only a matter of time before they get out. She slaps a hand over her mouth and scrunches her eyes shut, breathing through her nose and trying uselessly to stop it from happening.

Her other hand wanders up to her neck, grabbing onto the metal chain and tugging until Riley’s pendant comes out from under her shirt. She presses it into her palm and wraps her fist around it tightly, squeezing until the edges of the little circle are digging painfully into her skin.

There used to be a flutter in her chest when thought about Riley. A good sort of trill - it was soft and gentle and accompanied always by a bit of a high. It made her feel all warm and excited and hopeful. It’s all wrong now. The flutter her heart does now at the thought of her - her eyes and her hair and that smile she seemed to only show off to Ellie - how painfully fucking cool she always was, from the moment they first met - now it just feels like she’s dying in small bursts. One blow after another, each beat chipping pieces of her away for good.

A particularly hard sob has her gasping loudly for air on the inhale, and her whole body freezes. She’s going to wake him up, and he’ll be angry with her for it - the last straw. She’ll find out exactly what sort of man he is - exactly what he’s capable of - out here alone with him in the dark woods.

When he somehow doesn’t seem to wake up she shifts to lie down, pulling her pack over to use as a pillow. She folds her arms over top of it and buries her face down into them, trying to muffle whatever sounds she’s about to make.

It’s like her body was waiting for permission to give up the fight - as soon as her face touches the scratchy fabric of her bag she’s bawling. He must be almost fucking deaf, she thinks after a long time, because even when a wail makes it's way out of her against her will and she listens for the sound of him rolling over and telling her off, it doesn’t happen.

She’s so exhausted the crying jag feels like it’s draining the life out of her, but she can’t stop. It feels like she cries for hours.

She doesn’t remember falling asleep, so waking up is disorienting. Even with her eyes still closed, she can tell that it’s lighter outside. Her face feels swollen and puffy, the skin around her eyes stinging raw, and her head is heavy, nose stuffed up.

She stays curled up, not ready to really be awake yet - she’d been cold the night before, but she wasn’t now, and the warmth made it easy to want to just stay sleeping. Opening her eyes as little as she can manage to while still being able to see, she makes out where Joel is just uphill from her, sitting awake with his back against a tree. In the barely-there early dawn light, the deep blue of his denim is easy enough to spot. He looks different. She can’t tell why.

He notices that she’s woken up right away and stands.

“Goin’ to the creek,” he says in a flat voice as he walks away.

She knows he’s coming back because he leaves his pack behind.

It’s still so early - she breathes deeply a few times, closing her eyes and trying to get back to sleep - wanting deeply to avoid having to face another day.

Before she drifts off again, she realizes what was different about Joel - he wasn’t wearing the brown coat he always had on. He wasn’t wearing it because it’s draped over her like a blanket. He took it off of himself at some point, and covered her with it while she slept. He must have been cold.

She brushes the soft fabric lining of the jacket with her fingers, and her heart does a little flutter. It’s the kind that feels good again.

ao3 link here

my fics listed here

💙

#bad things happen bingo #fandom: the last of us #prompt: crying themselves to sleep #joel and ellie #tlou fic #last of us fic #my gif #the last of us fanfiction #Ellie and Joel #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #Ellie Williams #tess servopoulos #riley abel

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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 month

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age of calamity prompt: mipha and link post water & fire mission? 👀

With all his strength, training, and the benefits of youth, there were few times Link truly ever felt absolutely exhausted. It had happened far more frequently in the last year, what with all the monster attacks making everyone feel like they were in all out war.

But now that war had actually arrived, Link learned a new level of exhaustion, born from a worry so deep in his heart and soul that he didn’t even know what to do with it.

When Ganon had taken control of all the technology they’d worked so hard to learn and utilize, it had been such a defilement that Link’s blood had boiled with rage while his heart froze with fear. His, Zelda’s, and Impa’s determination helped them push through, of course, and he’d hardly had time to truly register any of his emotions once they’d started moving once more.

He remembered the heart stopping terror as the initial realization hit him though. He remembered feeling his breath utterly stolen away in a dread, a knowledge that the capital was falling, he and Zelda were in danger, his family was in danger, the Champions were trapped—that Mipha was trapped, and, for one moment, he thought he was absolutely powerless to do anything about it.

But he wasn’t powerless. They’d gotten there in time, they’d saved Mipha.

But it had been close. Hylia, it had been close. She’d looked absolutely exhausted - if it hadn’t been for Terrako’s magic, for that man—Sidon, he reminded himself, marveling at how the little fledgling could turn into such a massive Zora—then Mipha would have… would have…

She’d barely had the words to even acknowledge him when he’d finally gotten there. And he’d had to rush off to save Daruk as well.

Now that all the Champions were safe, Link felt himself on the verge of collapse. Zelda was trying to rest, instead worrying and mourning. Link felt awful for her - despite all the lives they’d saved, after all, she’d still lost her father. Link’s own father had barely escaped Castle Town and was recovering.

But now their friends were together once more, Divine Beasts ready for a counterattack. They were all impatient to do so much, to fight back now, even Link, willing to push through his exhaustion and end this.

There was no way they could fight right at this moment, though. Even Link couldn’t. But what he did want to do was check on Mipha. He’d been with Zelda, trying to keep her company, and with his father, but his heart was aching and worrying for the Zora princess as well.

After all she was… she was his friend.

Goddess, he couldn’t really lie to himself anymore. She was far more than a friend to him, and he’d almost lost her.

Link dragged his feet towards the palace. Of the four locations they’d helped free from Ganon’s hold, Zora’s Domain was the most fortified and therefore the safest, so it is where the majority of them were staying to recover until they could plan things out better in the morning. Mipha had been whisked away by her people upon exiting Van Ruta, and Link hadn’t seen her since.

He was allowed easy access to the palace, having visited Mipha multiple times and befriended her family (or, really, King Dorephan had essentially adopted him, he was so charismatically extroverted). The older Prince Sidon was excitedly talking to the king, missing Link entirely for he moment and giving him a chance to sneak into Mipha’s room.

He knocked, clearing his throat nervously (he wanted to see her, genuinely, but going to her bedroom seemed… inappropriate). Initially he heard nothing, and he worried a little more, cracking the door and calling her name softly. Silence was the answer, and he finally peeked around the door to see an empty room.

Where was she? Her family wasn’t distressed at all, so she couldn’t be in worse shape than he thought, right? Did they even know she wasn’t in here?

Link walked into the room quietly, closing the door behind him, examining everything. Mipha’s jewelry was on her little vanity - she always wore it when she went out, unless…

The one time Link saw her without her jewelry was when they’d agreed to sneak out at night - she’d commented that at the least, the headdress was too noisy for such a venture.

Wait. Surely she didn’t…

Narrowing his eyes, Link moved towards the window by the shallow waters where she likely rested. Looking out, he could just make out the area they’d designated for triaging the injured.

He had a funny feeling he knew where she was. Link climbed out of the window, crawling along the side of the palace so he could avoid scrutiny, and then hastily made his way back to the medical encampment. He saw a flesh of red, and he followed it to…

His father’s bed. Where Mipha sat, hands glowing, slowly working on healing his wounds. For his part, Link’s father was fast asleep, having been just as exhausted as everyone else - it was why Link had gone to be with Zelda and comfort her, as he’d felt fairly useless hovering anxiously over the man.

Mipha seemed to notice the scrutiny and glanced up, jumping, startled. “Link!”

He was relieved to see her on her feet, so relieved. After their last encounter—goddess, she looked so much better.

But she was still tired. So, inevitably, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Why aren’t you resting?”

He wanted to kick himself. He should be thanking her for looking after his father, asking her how she’s feeling instead of just scolding her.

But he was scared, tired, and angry too - why didn’t Mipha ever let herself get a break?

The entire situation was crashing down on him, and he didn’t know wha to do with all the emotions he was feeling. He didn’t want to take them out on Mipha, though, so he tried to keep his mouth shut and was nearly mortified to instead feel his eyes stinging with tears of frustration.

The magic glowing over his father subsided, and Mipha hugged herself a little insecurely. “I… I’d already been unable to assist any of the other Champions. I was resting, Link, but when I saw so many injured coming in, I knew the others would need help.”

“You were unable to help because you’d almost died,” Link argued, his voice shaking. “Everyone almost died.”

Mipha swallowed, easily reading how close Link was to falling apart. She clearly was shaken as well—he could only imagine what it felt like to have been so close to death. He saw his friend bite her lip uncertainly, hands wringing in front of her. “T-they did. I… Link, I promised… I promised I’d protect you, and I almost failed.”

Link felt his breath get stolen away. She… he didn’t know what to say, only that he wanted to tell her over and over that this wasn’t somehow her fault.

“I knew,” Mipha continued quietly, and now her own voice shook. “I… I figured I would be the weakest Champion. I was prepared to die if it was to happen. But… I…”

Mipha sniffled, inhaling steadily to try and calm herself, closing her eyes. Link moved towards her in an instant, dragging her into a hug.

His mind and heart were screaming.

What kind of thing was that to say - I figured I would be the weakest Champion, was prepared to die—had Mipha truly expected not to survive the encounter with Ganon? Yet she’d pushed forward anyway, had promised to protect and heal Link—

He didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to feel. He was horrified and terrified and felt so awful for her, he wanted to hold her for the rest of his life and tell her over and over that she had done nothing wrong, that she was an incredible fighter, that he would protect her. Mipha was trembling in his arms, crying quietly, finally letting her own stress out, and Link found himself crying too.

Words came forth before he knew what he was saying, genuine and raw and desperate to be heard. “I love you.”

Mipha’s sniffles turned to outright sobs, and she slid her arms around him. Link rested his head atop hers, cheek pressed against smooth scales, tears slowly sliding downward.

“Link, I—I’m s-sorry—”

Please don’t be.

“We’re at w-war—and I—”

“I know,” he whispered.

He let her cry for a while longer, he let himself cry. He was too drained to figure out how to proceed, to worry about protocol or anything of the sort. He just wanted to be with her, to comfort her and let her hold him in return. He wanted this nightmare to be over, and for a moment, it was just them.

As their tears slowed, the pair slowly, hesitantly pulled apart.

Mipha spoke first, trying to get a hold of herself. “Thank you… thank you for saving me on Vah Ruta.”

Goddess, did she even need to thank him for such a thing? He countered, “Thank you for healing me so many times, for always being there. I… Mipha, I’ll always protect you. I promise.”

Mipha watched him a moment, smiling as a blush stained her white cheeks red. She looked down at her hands, suddenly seeming to remember her usually far more shy nature. “Did… did you mean it…?”

Link blinked, confused. “Mean—why wouldn’t I mean—”

“O-oh, no!” Mipha interrupted, waving her hands. “I mean—I know you would protect me, Link, we’re friends after all, and you’re a Hero and—”

Oh. He knew what she was asking.

Of… of course he meant it. He’d just… been not addressing it. Because… well…

They’d been friends when they were children. And he’d liked her a lot then too. More than any of the other Zora. He was attracted to her kindness, her compassionate heart, her silliness and desire to help. Before his little mind and heart knew what such a love was, he already loved her. Now that they were both older, that feeling had matured, and…

Link swallowed, grabbing hold of his courage. “Yes. I meant it. I love you.”

His words derailed Mipha’s stuttered rambling. The silence gave him an opportunity to continue, saying, “You’re not weak. You gave that blight everything you had. You’re an excellent fighter.”

“Link…” she muttered, clearly unsure what to say, but then she giggled, bubbly and emotional as it was, her eyes glistening with tears. “I…”

Link suddenly felt insecure, suddenly felt like maybe he shouldn’t quite have said everything he had. But he’d… she deserved to be comforted, if nothing else. But maybe he shouldn’t have said…

“I love you too,” Mipha finally replied.

…Oh. Oh.

Oh.

Did he… did she… they…

She actually said it?!

Mipha having some sort of strong feelings for Link had been somewhat apparent for a little while now. Her tripping over herself around him had been downright endearing, honestly. But given that she’d never admitted it, Link had figured it was because it was entirely inappropriate, or that perhaps her feelings were not the same as his. But her—she actually—

He… he really wanted to kiss her. Instead, he just felt himself blush.

A heavy sigh resounded from behind them, and both teenagers nearly jumped out of their skin.

Whirling, they turned to see Abel staring at them under heavy lidded eyes, looking exhausted and exasperated at the same time.

“Papa!” Link gasped, rushing to his father’s side, and Mipha was quick on his heels. “Are you alright?”

“I’m about as well as you appear to be,” his father replied, and he could sense the judgment from the man. He sucked in a cheek and bit on it, sheepish at being called out, but it wasn’t as if he’d had a chance to rest quiet yet. He’d wanted to check on Mipha, and then all this had happened.

“I’m so sorry, Sir Abel, I didn’t finish healing your wounds,” Mipha hastily said, moving to the other side of the bed to get a better view.

“Your Highness, that’s unnecessary,” Abel waved her off as respectfully as he could in his state. “I appreciate your singular resolve to heal everyone - you are a good person, and a testament to the Zora’s compassion. But I… have a favor to ask of Your Highness, if you’ll allow me this.”

“Yes, of course,” Mipha nodded eagerly, putting a hand on his shoulder. It was an automatic gesture, born from a kind heart, always eager to soothe, even if it was a little odd for her to be doing it to the seasoned knight. “What is it?”

“Rest,” Abel replied. It was disguised as a request, kind and gentle, but there was the slightest heaviness to his tone, one that Link knew intimately. This was a command, in the only way that the quiet knight could offer to a princess far above his station.

Mipha swallowed, mirroring Link’s sheepish reaction, and let out a small laugh. “A-ah. Well. I—I suppose I could use a little more rest, but the others—perhaps I can do so after I help—”

“You would be disregarding my request, then, princess,” Abel noted carefully.

Mipha’s mouth snapped shut. Link almost laughed - his father got her.

He’d have to remember that trick

Sighing heavily in defeat, Mipha bowed her head. “Well, I—yes. I’ll just—I’ll go back to the palace, then. Sir Abel, I—I’m sorry I wasn’t able to heal you fully before I go, but I—”

“Mipha,” Link interrupted pleadingly. “Please, don’t be sorry. You’ve done more than enough, I promise.”

His dear friend watched him before smiling gently, genuinely, lovingly. He smiled back at her, heart warming. They exchanged a quiet promise to continue their conversation later, and Mipha excused herself.

Abel sighed heavily again. Link glanced at him, worried. “Papa?”

“You two are ridiculous,” his father grumbled. “If Tilieth had been just as shy as me, you would have never been born.”

Link felt his cheeks scald with heat. “P-Papa!”

His father didn’t comment further, respecting his privacy, but he did yank him into a hug, holding him hostage in the bed with him until the Hero of Hyrule settled in his embrace. Zora’s Domain quieted as evening came, and everyone settled in to rest for the war to come.

Despite the dread hanging in the air, Link smiled, feeling lighter than he had in ages, heart full as Mipha’s words repeated in his mind, as he was safe in his father’s embrace.

I love you too.

#writing #You ask Skye answers #Lovely snailstudios #Miphlink #age of calamity #age of calamity link #AoC link #mipha #abel #you know I tried to just make it the two of them #But Abel somehow squeezed in there #I feel like an adult needed to get these two morons to progress their conversation LOL #Abel was trying his DARNDEST to just pretend to be asleep after their crying woke him up #He was trying to respect their privacy and not interfere #But he got too exasperated LOL #It’s fun exploring Mipha’s character #Girl was preparing her entire family for her death it’s so sad and interesting about her #She just wants to help so much #Darn I was gonna line this up with a Miphlink prompt and that failed LOL #Oh well it’s Miphlink week I think when I’m scheduling this so there’s that

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