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#hylian retriever
takehertowandaplaza · 5 months
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Painter: rist626 on Twitter
Translator: me
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link-is-a-dork · 9 months
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Round 1
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[image ID: the first image is of a Hylian Retriever, a black, white, and tan dog similar to an australian shepherd. the second image is of a Minecraft Wolf, gray in color. it's wearing a red collar and sitting, indicating that it has been tamed to a dog. end ID]
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resenart · 1 year
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radicalfemimist · 5 months
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link study/art practice: wintery edition (for some of them)
it’s already snowing here (the ground is covered) so trying to ease into winter with some wintery doodles and, apparently, wildly ambitious poses for me. + side profile practice because I suck at those.
side note: I’m very out of practice drawing animals. don’t judge those too harshly.
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retrogarden · 3 months
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Cause Nintendo won’t let us pet the dogs so I had to fix it 🐶
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weeklybotwzelda · 1 year
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Weekly Zelda #9!
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Precious boy!
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werewolfsister · 6 months
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This is the dream, for real.
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"Wolf Link is the cutest" clearly you have never looked into the sweet little face of a Hylian retriever
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linksbestcompendium · 10 months
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Feeling much better now friends. And even more so because I met a VERY good boy. Here I am with the Hylian Retriever from a nearby stable! :D The owner doesn't seem interested in talking about him but I'm sure it's ok to give him a treat.
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arystocrat · 9 months
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post-totk hc time! since rhodes and ralera moved out of hateno to lurelin, they left their dog all alone. so link and zelda decide to adopt the poor fella into their home.
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sheik-fangirl · 27 days
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♥ Link's lovely boss-wife is back from work!! ♥ He is basically Zelda's Hylian Retriever awww. Hateno domestic fluff is my bread and butter.
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link-is-a-dork · 10 months
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spicyicetea · 10 months
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My Forest spirit
A legend of Zelda BOTW/TOTK Yandere x Reader. This is obviously cannon divergent. Fem!Y/N is short and Curvy in this, and is often described with long hair. This story will contain NSFW!scenes, violence and profanity. MDNI
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Chapter 1: My knight in shinning armour
“Yahaha you found me!” A little Korok laughed as I stared down at him.
My ears twitched excitedly as it jumped up into my arms. The little forest spirits loved me. They always have. I grew up in this forest after my mother left me here. The clothes on my back are woven from fronds the Koroks brought me and I just ran around barefoot. I’ve only ever seen anyone like me once. He wore a cloak and was muttering about stopping the “princess” whatever that means.
A group of Koroks ran past my legs as the shaking of maracas grew closer. Their behaviour startled me, they shouldn’t fear Hestu… they’re a close friend of all of us.
“Sister Y/N! There are people, we must hide!”
I was dragged behind a tree as Hestu’s humming grew louder. Strange clacking noises grew closer, as well as other voices.
“I can’t believe you of all people will wield the Master Sword!”
“Revali ease up on Link, he’s a wonderful knight to me!” A feminine voice called back.
My eyes widened at the voices! No one ever enters the forest, what are they here for? What is a… Master Sword? I watched from behind the tree and the silent man in the middle of the group glanced in my direction. My large frond mask was still covering my face, so I scurried behind the tree with the other Koroks. They continued further into the forest and I ran between trees to watch them. As they approached the centre of the forest, I realised what they had come for, the strange thing in the ground. So that’s what it’s called, the Master Sword.
The silent one stepped forward and grabbed the hilt of the ancient blade. He grunted in pain as he pulled it up out of the ground and held it above his head proudly. I watched him from atop a tree, eyes wide and excited. Based off of Hestu’s cheers, this must be an amazing accomplishment. I should cheer too.
I clapped excitedly as the Koroks beside me seemed confused but then joined me in celebration. The group gasped and looked up to where we were, drawing these strange objects from their backs. Hestu gasped and ran in front of them.
“NO NO! Weapons down, you can’t hurt Sister Y/N!”
Weapons? My eyes widened beneath the mask as I slid to be hidden by the leaves. One of the women step forward, her tan skin and deep crimson hair complimented by the deep green of the Forrest. She placed her curved blade on the floor and held her hands up beside her head.
“Please don’t run dear, we had no idea you were friend not foe. The war has everyone incredibly stressed.”
“War?” I mutter, poking my head out of the leaves.
Hestu looks up at me and laughs gesturing for me to jump down. I slid off of the tree and landed on the stone beside Hestu. They shake their maracas happily as I smile at them beneath my mask. The woman who had spoken to me seemed shocked, I’m unsure why though.
“Ah… my apologies for staring, that was rude. My name is Urbosa, I’m assuming you’re Y/N.”
I nod as a few Koroks come and stand beside my legs, watching the group closely and protectively.
“This is Sister Y/N! She’s a spirit of the forest like the Koroks and I!” Hestu happily said.
“Sister? She’s clearly not anything like you all! She looks like your average Hylian!” The strange bird person yelled.
The large man behind him slapped him on the back. He winced but stayed quiet as the blonde woman stepped forward.
“I’m so sorry for us startling you Y/N. We had to retrieve the Master Sword to help win the war against Ganon. Do you… live here? What are you wearing?”
“Fronds.”
“Ah, so you do speak. I suppose you’re like Link then, he only speaks around his friends.”
“Link?”
“Yes, he’s my knight, the one with the Master Sword.”
“Master… I used to..”
“Did you guard the sword?” She asked.
“No, I used to use the zappies it made to start my campfires! How am I meant to start fires now?” I frown, jabbing the man beside her.
He just pulled a strange rock from his pocket and place it in my hand. I raised a brow and he pulled out a second, striking it against the stone on the floor and lighting a stick on fire nearby.
“Whoa! Pocket campfire! Fair trade fair trade!” I hold the rock in my hand in wonder, removing my mask to get a better look at it.
The man before me just stared straight at my face before grabbing my wrist.
“Huh? You can’t have it back, it was a trade!”
He just grunted and pulled me up off the ground and held me over his shoulder. One hand held the Master Sword while the other rested on the bump of my behind. The breeze ran right through me as his hand rhythmically squeezed. Is this how people interact? The Koroks don’t really have hands… maybe it’s to make sure I wouldn’t fall.
“Link! That’s inappropriate!”
“Hyaa!” He began to run, his grip becoming tighter as began to slip and held him in fear.
“LINK!”
“SISTER Y/N! Awww, maybe it’s good she sees the outside world, look after her.” Hestu sighed.
“Of course, we will,” Urbosa answered. Running to catch up with the others who were chasing Link.
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New Yandere gained, Link.
Hey look at you, you managed to capture the knights heart! Now time for some facts about your new Yandere. (basically head cannons)
It's no surprise that Link is incredibly protective over you, he would let Zelda die if it meant he could ensure your safety.
He's also very physically affectionate. He must always have at least one hand on you and when he hasn't for a long time... He tends to get very handsy.
He gives you plenty of kisses the moment that people stop looking. If he feels like someone is moving in on his “territory” he will just begin groping you from behind until they get the message.
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monpalace · 11 months
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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, fierce deity/reader.
content .. the boys (separately) with a reader who feeds them well, and the fruits of their loving labor.
warnings .. unedited. no pronouns used (you/your). reader is implied to have more meat on their bones (vaguely). reader is in their housespouse era and they aren't even married (legally). non-graphic vomit and forgetting to eat mentioned (link). link and fierce deity are taller than reader. fierce deity is named aram for writings sake. reader is implied to be a god of sorts (fierce deity). fierce deity is literally my oc at this point.
notes .. my schnookums thought they could have big cheeks and get away from me? my cutie patooties thought that i wouldn't write about them eating right? my pookie bears thought that i wouldn't fulfill my duties as their #1? my baby faced sweethearts thought i wouldn't spend 2hrs looking for pictures like those? my favorite white boys? my honeybuns? my hollywood stars? my sugarpies?
i'll eat them. omnom
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LINK has always been rather thin. That was especially the case when he was a child. Something about a Kokiri child's diet not fitting what a Hylian needed always kept him frail.
When you both were children, he had quickly gotten used to you plucking his arm when it was idle to compare his lack of fat to your surplus.
(He never minded. He always looked forward to being reminded why he put one foot in front of the other every day during his fight against Ganon, or repeated cycle after cycle when it came to Majora.)
(Funnily enough, you had always made fun of him for being shorter than you as a child as well. You always mentioned he needed to drink more milk and eat more cuccos so he'd one day pass you.)
It was when you were able to cook more than simple meals and wouldn't risk burning down your cottage that you would invite (force) Link over more often than you already have.
Link had always tried to limit his visits to when he absolutely needed to. Free food, bed, shelter, care, supplies, clothes, bathes (the list was endless), and whatnot were always appreciated, but he never wanted to become to comfortable lest he wake up one day (or night. Or afternoon. His internal clock was always ruined when it came to sleeping at your cabin) and decide not return to the world outside.
He does his best to turn down any seconds, or thirds, or fourths, or fifths, and so on you may offer him when he does stay long enough for you to finish whatever extravagant meal you made just for him.
Past experiences often make him sick (with trauma or physically) and result in him vomiting his food, but there's always more from you to replace what he had just eaten and the meal before (if he remembered to eat it).
What he can't finish at the table (or on the sofa, or in the bed), he takes with him when he leaves. Link is respectful in all meanings of the word and hates to leave anything to waste.
When it comes to thanks, he either finds ways to help around your cottage or brings back items from new regions for you to cook. Whether it be repairing the busted bathroom door you've been complaining about before fixing your water faucet so the pressure is what you want it to be, or bringing back a spice the Gorons specialize in you've mentioned wanting to try, Link typically feels his gifts fall lackluster when compared to your treatment of him.
(He trusts your skill and creativity enough to know you won't poison him on accident. He never brings back any recipes or instructions either if it's not a dangerous material.)
(He's always excited to try whatever new dish you've concocted, so his only condition is that you wait for his return to cook whatever it is he brought you. "A celebration, of sorts," he calls it.)
A look in a lone puddle had told him his cheeks had gotten fatter. He supposes he now understands why he was refused entry into one of the pubs when he had to retrieve Malon and Cremia's uncle.
He had noticed that the details of his arms were less visible through his shirts when a Goron had pinched one,— not in the same way you did when you were younger— he had mentioned that he had an amount of muscle and fat to be proud of before asking him to join a tournament. Any attempts prior to were quickly shut down.
During a day of horseback archery with the Gerudo, the sweltering sun had gotten to him enough that he had to remove his tunic and the shirt underneath to feel some sort of relief. One of the women who were training him took a look at his stomach and nodded approvingly, mentioning that he should praise his soon-to-be spouse for feeding him so well.
The last nail in the coffin came when he was riding Epona into Castle Town. His tunic felt uncomfortably small and his tights (curse those damned tights) felt as thought they were stretched more across the expanse of his thighs than they usually were.
He's back in your cottage when he finally vocalizes his thoughts, preferring you to any other tailor or seamstress in the country. "I've gotten to big for my clothes," he either sighs or signs to you while eating. His gaze held a thousand yards in them, idly watching his clothes move with the wind.
The tunic, hat, tights, boots hang outside the window on a string connected to your shed. They had to be washed after a (admittedly well-planned— even if they don't think) ambush by a hoard of chu-chus.
You throw a hazy look to them before returning to the bowl you were tirelessly mixing. You were making dinner, he thinks, or maybe it was in preparation for the big breakfast you were making with the variety of bread from the Gerudo he brought back.
You'd already given him a large snack earlier.
The thought makes him look down at the plate in his lap. Every spot of it was filled and piled with bread, and eggs, and meats, and jams. He couldn't see the white bottom of it even as he pushed and prodded around.
He takes a bite of it gratefully.
"I saw you before you left not even three days ago. You fit everything fine enough to me." At some point you had stopped stirring and held the bowl out to him. Link grabs something off the plate and dips it in without a thought, eating it before responding with a hum of approval. "I can make adjustments to then, if you'd like."
You leave the bowl with him before attending to something on the stove.
"Please," he responds, halfway through another bite of the (what he now recognized as) Gerudo bread and cocoa dip you had made. "Different pants would be nice, though. It'd be a nice excuse to finally get rid of those tights." Both tasted sweet by themselves, he realized, but left a calmer aftertaste that he'd like to savor.
"You've always hated the tights," you hum in response, moving from the stove to the coolers that he'd built you after bringing you a large fish that only lived in Zora's Domain. "What would you want to move on to now? Leggings? Shorts?"
Link watches you remove a pitcher from one of the coolers. He isn't sure how long it's been in there (he doesn't even remember watching you make it), but he assumes you took some ice out so the pink liquid wouldn't freeze over into complete ice.
He watches you try to take a cup from one of the cupboards, watching you struggle to grab his favorite one from the higher shelves.
He stands from the chair sat just outside the kitchen (he liked to watch you cook when you had the time), placing the bowl and plate on one of the many cleared counters (you liked to clean as you worked), and grabs the cup for you.
Link lowers his head with his hand when he hands the cup off, head resting upon the crown of yours as he watches you pour the pink liquid into it, idle arms wrapping around your waist as he makes some slick comment about eating enough milk and cuccos for your liking.
You don't elbow him in the stomach like you might have when you were younger and he doesn't hold the cup above your head teasingly like when he was younger to (— then again, he had to climb a counter to get it out of your reach.)
Instead, you wordlessly pass the cup back to him and he wordlessly drinks it despite not knowing what it was.
He likes it, as he does all your works, and notes how it was both sweet and sour. A taste that fills both his childhood need for sweet all the time and his older palate's need for other tastes.
Handing the cup back, Link tilts his head so he can press a kiss to your crown. "Anything you'd think I'd look good in," he finally responds, the flavor of the moment leaving a tooth-achingly sweet taste on his tongue.
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ARAM is often humbled in your abode.
He may have acted arrogant to others in his younger years and horrifyingly aloof now that he's a more seasoned god, but he never failed to (willingly) crumble to his knees when in your presence during either times of his life.
He had no need for the sustenance mortals require, prayers and whispers of his name were always good enough for him, but he'd kiss the ground you walk on if it meant you'd bless him with another food you've created (he already does).
Aram is the provider to your fire-lit home, an arrangement the two have been living by for as long as he can remember.
He is the sword to your shield. The arrow to your quiver. The moon to ever burning sun (which he did create for you, after all). The wound for your gauze. The life to your world— and one cannot live peacefully without the other.
Your food had quickly become an addiction to Aram. He'd eat as much as often as he could, giving little response to when questioned why he loves it so much.
("Because it comes from your hands," he once explained hours later when you were sleeping. "Your hands, that create all. That nourish all it touches and replenishes all that is extinct. I am your antithesis, and I must destroy that which I love."
(You never had the heart to ask again.)
He has enough sense to slow his eating around you. One concerned comment about him choking was enough for him to indulge in needless your wishes, but a question regarding its taste had him eating like a mortal.
His relationship with food prior to getting hooked onto yours was brief and filled with obligation. He never ate to feel full, only to make the people he was fighting with shut up and leave him out of whatever conversation they were having.
It never lingered in his stomach like a warm fireplace that others had described it as. It never made him warm and filled with love. It never gave him the energy he needed to keep fighting.
It just went through his digestive tract (why did he even have one?) and disappeared like an heavy smog finally dispersed by a strong gust of wind before he had to fight again.
When a war was over, you always came. You took the battle-shaken soldiers away when it was their time and healed their ailments if they were able to withstand everything. You went through war-stricken cities and set everything as they should have been. You feed and clothe and bandage and sew and reunite and Aram isn't sure why he lingered.
He's seen the effects of what you can do long after you've left. He knows of the good you're capable of doing just as much as he knows the bad he can cause.
He craves your touch when he sees it at its peak. He indulges himself when he sees it first-hand.
Aram understands what the soldiers mean when you beckon him closer and offer him food, uncaring of how he stands tall above all else.
The soup warms his insides. The flavor resides on his tongue hours after he's finished it. His energy, though far from depleted, had made him feel as though he were a youngling again.
He craves more.
The addiction to your presence and your food (and subsequently, you) had started then. It's an event he could easily recall when asked, one he would happily recount to you if you ever forgot where his devotion to you started.
Meeting after a war or battle had become frequent enough that he had finally learned your name; not some silly alias those who followed you often referred to you as. He felt like one of those lovesick children soldiers talk about, tripping over himself and his words.
He's curious to you, an admirer more than a stalker, fortunately. When he wasn't on the battlefront, he was always hovering around as you worked, busying his hands with whatever task you've given him after noticing his lack of mortality.
You treated him well; doing so even after the era of wars were long gone and he was seldom needed. You cared for him as though he were one of the many wounded soldiers with no family to return to once all was done and said— and to an extent, he was.
He's eating when you bring attention to his softer thigh.
You were reading to him, a romantic thriller that held as much of his attention that your captivating voice did. His gaze focused heavily on you, watching as you lick your lips after each page, how your eyes rake over the page to ensure the tone you speak the next sentence in is correct. He notes how you shift less often, how he doesn't have to move you further up his lap so you can lean against his stomach.
"It's not as painful to sit on you anymore." Aram doesn't think that line was in the book, but he doesn't mention it. It dawns that you were talking to him when you look up, using your finger as a bookmark as you closed the book around it. "Have you gained weight?"
He's a big man; it's a fact he's known since the beginning of his existence. He has large arms, muscles well know for how he snatched prey up to bring back to you. His height made it a simple feat to reach into the trees and capture any avian you wanted to experiment with that night. His legs that would stomp on any fish swimming downstream during a day at the lake you suggested.
He was sculpted by the Goddesses themselves. If they hadn't meant for his body to change along with his lifestyle, they wouldn't have designed him to dough.
(He'd never be ashamed in the fact either. He was contented knowing he had someone to dote over him constantly; a sentiment he had gained after recalling a conversation with wedded soldiers.)
(Also, the prospect of defacing what the Goddesses had long since disgraced was exciting, in a way.)
Aram doesn't look at himself, already well-acquainted with his body as his brow raises in amusement. "You feed me well, My Grace," he responds with a peck on your temple, "I would hope to become more comfortable for your pleasure." He refused to stop eating as he indulged you in conversation, the leg you sat on jumping once in place of his busy hands.
You hum that sweet, quiet hum of yours that Aram has come to associate with your contentedness (he aimed to hear to several tomes every day). Removing yourself from his lap, discarding the novel to the side as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks. "It suits you. You look healthy. Happy."
"Did I look ill before?"
You don't fluster as you might have like in your younger years. He's honored to have grown alongside you, reminiscent of the older couples you've both watched and escorted when he was still an active god.
The same filling feeling your food gives him fills his heart. The lingering sense of peace that he felt since meeting you dancing through his body when your thumbs rub the apples of his cheeks, the softest and fondest gaze anyone's ever given him in your eyes.
"No," you answer in a quiet voice only he'd be able to hear. "Never. You've always looked perfect."
And Aram has never been more thankful that he separated himself from the Goddesses as he preens under your touch. Never been more thankful that he lingered after the war was done. Never been more thankful that he had readjusted his psyche to more readily accept your gifts and affection.
He frees a hand to cradle to back of your head, a threat to all that aren't you, and brings you beneath his chin in a protective gesture. "As have you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "And as you always will be."
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adrift-in-thyme · 4 months
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I’ve been meaning to make a post like this for a while now but kept forgetting. Since First isn’t widely known I wanted people to have an explanation of who the heck this guy is (and why they should love him). So without further ado
Who is the First Hero?
(All of the following pictures are from the Hyrule Historia)
The First Hero (or First as we call him in the Linked Universe fandom) shows up in a tiny manga at the back of the Hyrule Historia (that’s basically an encyclopedia for Zelda). He isn’t technically canon and doesn’t have a game of his own. But according to the manga he is the first Link, Skyward Sword Link’s predecessor.
He lived in a time when Hylia was still a goddess and before Demise’s first attack. He was a royal knight, much like Hyrule Warriors Link, and seemed to be a man of great respect and esteem. Until, that is, he was framed for an unknown crime and imprisoned.
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He remains in the dungeons for four years. Then, when his so called “premonitions of danger” begin to come true, and Demise attacks Hyrule, his people decide “oh, wait! They kinda need a hero now!” So, they set him free and practically beg him to fight for them. He’s understandably bitter about the whole thing, but being the hero he is, he goes out to battle.
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No sooner has he agreed to fight, than the goddess Hylia shows up on her crimson loftwing. She has come to battle Demise and help her people escape to safety.
The loftwing looks down upon the humans as weak and cowardly. But Link stands up to him, telling him “there are those among us who have the courage to fight.” The loftwing admires him for the sentiment, but isn’t convinced. He promises to keep watch over him to see if Link is a worthy rider.
With the loftwing gone to the heavens above, Hylia gives Link the Master Sword
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Link doesn’t think he is worthy of it after his imprisonment, but Hylia assures him that the sword knows better. It sees beyond his tarnished reputation to the kind, brave man beneath.
Though Link is still bitter about everything he has endured, he swears to fight for his friends. He takes the sword and hones it into something a mortal can wield.
Then, he goes to battle.
Hylia rallies the other races around Hyrule to help the Hylians. Meanwhile, Link and his men fight for seven days. Despite their efforts, Demise begins to burn Hyrule to the ground.
In the end, Link goes to face him, promising to slay him.
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But he is badly wounded in the fight. He collapses, weak and near death. Before he can fade away, however, the loftwing shows up and chooses him as his rider.
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He swears to ride with the loftwing forever. Shortly afterward, the dragons from Skyward Sword bless the Master Sword with the power of the Triforce. Then, Link gives the sword to Hylia, who carves Hyrule from the earth.
Link retrieves the sword and drives it into the ground, finishing the job and sending Hyrule skyward.
He wants to follow his people to the skies, but his wounds catch up to him. He falls to the ground. In his last moments he promises that his spirit will always be with his people.
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Hylia seals Demise away, even as the enraged god promises to prevail. Then, she goes to where her fallen hero lies.
She holds him, crying over him and lamenting the pain he had to endure to become the hero Hyrule needed. Knowing that Hyrule will need their help once more, she then promises to reincarnate them both. Only this time, she will be a mortal.
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This story, we learn, becomes legend in the era of Skyward Sword. And the loftwing who Link swore to ride with chooses the child who has his reincarnated spirit, Skyward Sword Link or Sky.
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Now, as for First’s standing in LU…I’m know multiple LU fans (myself included) speculate that Jojo will include him at some point. She’s been cryptic about it when asked though, so we don’t know for sure. Neither do we know when he’ll show up (if he does). So, for now, we can only hope.
…and create our own AU’s in the meantime ;)
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