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shreddedparchment · 5 years

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The Brightest Star Pt.01

Lovable Polestar

05/07/2019

Pairing: Thor x Reader Word Count: 9,492

Masterpost Warnings: language, eventual smut maybe, violence probably, cozy Thor, Thor in his undies

A/N: So, this started because I was telling someone about my original fiction and they just didn’t care? I’ve had others try to read it too and they never do. It’s a little heartbreaking when you feel so excited and happy about something and no one cares even when all you want to do is just share your excitement. So, that feeling sparked this fic. I wasn’t sure where I was going with it but now I do. I hope you like it. This is also for all those lovelies of mine that wanted me to do some more Thor. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Thor can vividly remember the first time he saw you. He can remember it so clearly that his heart still aches when he thinks back to that moment when his whole world lit up with a poignant and fierce fire. It engulfed him. It overwhelmed him. His skin began to hum, and then half a minute passed, and his fire was bathed in ice water and the misery set in.

You were sitting at a table, looking like other women that he’d seen. You were one face among many with no particular quality that set you apart. You were just another girl.

Then someone, the guy to your left said something that Thor couldn’t hear. Then the girl to your right said something. Then your eyes shone with stunning excitement. They sparkled and lit up like stars, gleaming bright amongst the other eyes in the room.

You smiled, the brilliance of it nearly knocking his breathe from his lungs because it was more than you looking adorable, it was the pure joy that radiated out of every facet in those damn eyes.

Your cheeks were spread so wide and tight he was sure that they must be hurting. It was a smile for the ages.

You looked from the guy to your left to the girl on your right and opened your mouth once to say something, but the girl leaned forward, and she reached out to grab the guy’s left hand. You shut your mouth.

Then the guy responded, and you opened your mouth again, but the guy shook his head and laughed and spoke once more.

You closed your mouth and the sparkle in your eye dulled a little. Like the sun hid behind dark clouds, overwhelming him in gloom. Your shoulders hunched as the two beside you continued to talk, animatedly exchanging words and laughter. You smiled lightly when they looked at you but then you sat back, shoulders slumped as you pulled your drink closer and took a long sip through your straw.

Slowly, as the two continued to talk, your eyes glazed over. All life had drained from them and all Thor could think about was how he might find a way to put that light back into your eyes.

Which brings us to today.

Thor had come to that same shop several days in a row, eager to see you again and when you finally showed up, you were alone but not for long.

When you were joined by the same two people as before, they greeted you brightly. Then the three of you sit at the same table and once again your eyes glazed over, and you’d sat in silence while your friends talked.

Occasionally Thor would see that brightness return but it never lasted more than a few seconds.

Thor didn’t mean to become a stalker. He seriously, really, truly, honestly didn’t mean to follow you out of the café. He was just so curious.

He followed you and your friends to a nearby park and then a small antiques shop. Then the male left and the female with you listened only halfheartedly as you talked to her.

She would listen for a few seconds and then her eyes would wander, and she’d interrupt you and point at something across the street or in a shop window or just cut you off because she was bored. Every time she did, you relented.

Thor hated her. Even now, as the two of you wander around the Metropolitan Museum of Art looking at the watercolor exhibit, you stop in front of a lovely piece with greens, yellows, and pinks—Thor’s too busy watching you to see what the painting actually is—and point at it, your eyes bright and stunning again.

Thor swoons, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

Until your friend walks away while you’re still talking.

Your eyes lose their sparkle again and you look at her as she calls out for you. “Y/N! Look at this one!”

Thor growls, annoyed and frustrated for you. You sigh very lightly, so lightly he’s sure no one but he notices, and then move over towards your friend. You smile at her, no sparkle in your eyes but your smile is genuine. It’s kind and polite and patient.

The painted smile on a porcelain doll.

Why are you so perfect? Not that he likes your submissive side. He hates it, in fact. No, that’s not right. He loves it…wait? Loves it? Fuck, he loves it. Shit. What is he getting himself into?

He loves it because it’s yours. It’s a small side of the person you are. What he loves about it is that even in the face of all the overlooking these so-called friends put you through, you still manage to find joy in their company. You smile kindly at them. You take joy in your time with them even though the joy is only surface deep.

Thor can relate. How many battles had he fought after he’d lost his people? His family? His self-worth and felt only the subtle secondhand joy of his comrades after the fight was won? Sometimes, you do things just to pass the time.

Thor keeps to the opposite side of the large room. He avoids looking at you for more than a few seconds at a time until you stop at yet another painting and turn your back on him.

Your eyes light up again and it's all he can do to stay put. He licks his lips, clenches his fists, crumpling the informational pamphlet he'd grabbed on the way in.

He'd already ruined it by rolling it up over and over, fidgeting with it every time your friend interrupted you or moved away when you were talking.

Impatiently, with an itch to move to you, he smacks his large thigh with the rolled up paper. The tap, tap, tap, isn’t loud enough to draw your attention but it does get him some ugly looks from the couple to his right.

He's not even facing the wall anymore. His body is turned fully, wearing a navy blazer with a pair of matching navy slacks, black and white Chucks, and underneath the blazer is a plain white t-shirt. It's a little sheer. The toasty peach of his skin is slightly visible through the stretched white fabric.

He looks at the annoyed couple to his right and gives them a toothless smile, chagrin across his face. “Sorry.”

They don’t seem to care that he's Thor. They move past him, still frowning.

With a furrowed brow, Thor turns back to you, eyes still shining bright. He tries to hear what you're saying and he can just make out your voice if he tries hard enough.

“-I think it's the mountain. It kinda looks like a stormy sky if you don’t notice the subtle strokes that shape the peak. What do you like about it?” You ask your friend but she's looking down at her phone.

“Hold on, Seth is calling.” She puts the phone to her ear and walks away. “Hey, Seth. Where are you?”

Thor's too busy watching you to look after your friend.

You're biting your lip, watching the girl walk away before you turn your previously shining eyes on the painting.

The audacity these people have to ignore your excitement, the genuine elation you feel on a daily basis, constantly stepped on?

The urge to join you is renewed and he takes several steps in your direction but your friend comes barreling back towards you, heels clicking and clacking against the waxed floor, just when he's made up his mind to introduce himself.

She catches herself on your arm and you turn an excited smile to her.

“Seth finally asked me out!”

He can see your face fall. You blink a few times but before your silence can register as too long, too awkward—Say something, little mouse. You'll give yourself away! Thor thinks desperately—you smile again.

“That's so great Nan. I'm-I'm glad he finally got his shit together.”

Thor smiles, genuinely surprised yet pleased with your vulgarity in such an austere place as the Met. His cheeks flush, the gentle way your mouth wrapped around the word was utter perfection.

“Me too!” The girl, Nan, curly brown hair, caramel skin, and wide hips gushes.

“He should have come with us.” You say but Nan is not listening. She's on that cellular phone again. Can the damn woman not carry on a conversation with you for more than ten seconds?

You watch her text and in stark contrast to this Nan's elation, your timid sadness stands out. How can no one but him see it? What's wrong with everyone in your life?

Thor can tell with that look alone that this Seth—the blonde man that has been meeting you at the café for two weeks—is someone you yourself desired.

It takes Nan a few more minutes, four and twenty-seven seconds actually—Thor counted—to focus back on her present company. She's still got her arm wrapped around your elbow.

She looks at the painting and stares for all of two seconds before, “Is that mountains? You'd think they'd have painted a clearer picture.”

You smile, amused for some reason. Thor would really rather tell her to silence her ridiculous comments.

“It's watercolor, Nan. It's not supposed to be super clear. It's the artist's impression. You see how clear the people are? But the entire background is blur-"

“Ugh! Y/N, this is boring. Let's go watch a movie or something. Yeah?”

Thor's hand crumples up the pamphlet into a tight compressed ball.

“Oh.” You mutter, disappointment saturating your beautiful tone. “Okay.”

“Yay!” Nan exclaims then begins to drag you away.

Thor watches you crane your neck to get another look at the painting before Nan completely pulls you from the room.

With slow steps, Thor moves to the painting and reads the small placard.

The Lake of Zug

Artist: Joseph Mallord William Turner (British, London

1775–1851 London)

Date: 1843

He stands there, staring at the painting for what might be hours. All the while he ponders the very possibility that what you might see in this painting is the very thing he saw in you when he saw your eyes light up and then extinguish.

He accepts, after a time, that it is not possible for this painting to make you feel the way he felt when he first saw you brighten then dull.

You are way more exquisite than this painting with its blurry watercolor mountain.

-----

Thor continues to stalk you. Okay, he doesn’t stalk you. Or he tells himself he doesn't. But…the consensus is…

“Thor's stalking a girl.” Nat says, amused and brimming with smugness.

“I am not…pfft…stalking a girl.” Thor waves her off, rolling his eyes, quirking a brow as he lifts his cup of coffee and takes a sip.

“Yeah, you are.” Nat assures him, leaning over the counter with her chin in her hand. Long delicate fingers rest against the curve of her jaw and rap the dark quartz countertop.

“Am not.” Thor says, a swift heavy swallow before his cup is laid aside.

“Yeah.” Nat chuckles because it's too good to be true. Too cute. Too weird that Thor, the God of Thunder, is obsessed with a girl and doesn’t have the courage to speak to her. “You are.”

“Look, I am not stalking her. I am merely going to the café that she goes to every day, to possibly see her. And if—if she happens to be there, I-"

“Follow her?” Nat offers.

“No! I walk in a similar direction until she reaches her destination then I go my own way. Unless she happens to go to a place where I might maintain a considerable distance while I-"

“Watch her?”

“While I-I-I-" Thor stumbles, not sure how to spin this one.

“Gotta tell ya pal, it kinda sounds like you're stalking this dame.” Bucky slides in beside Nat, her arms immediately wrapping around his bicep where she leans her head—in what she insists is a platonic expression of affection—and laughs as Thor huffs.

“Fine! Whatever. I’m stalking her. Are you happy?” Thor booms, arms raised in the air then childishly crossed across his broad chest, biceps large and beefy, sun-bathed skin stretched and bulging.

“What are they happy about?” Steve wonders, moving into the kitchen, mid-yawn.

“Thor finally admitted to stalking that girl he saw in the café down the block.” Bucky explains.

Steve stops, eyes shining, mouth open in mock surprise as he stares from Bucky to Nat and then to Thor. He shuts one eye, still sleepy. “Woah, hey. That's progress. Good for you, Thor.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Thor grumbles.

“Woah!” Nat chastises, lifting her head from Bucky's arm, amused but also surprised by Thor's defensiveness. “Hey, we're just trying to help.”

Steve doesn’t seem to care. He’s already rifling in the fridge for food.

“How? By making me feel worse? I know I shouldn’t be watching her. I’ve tried to stay away but I can't stop thinking about her.” Thor sighs, looking down at his cup and swirling the smooth brown liquid, still steaming.

“Guess he's got it bad.” Bucky whispers to Nat who nods. He turns back to Thor then takes Nat's cup of coffee to steal a sip. “What is it about this girl, Thor? I mean, you’ve been around for almost…what? Fifteen-hundred years? And you’ve seen thousands of girls here on Earth. What's so special about this one?”

Thor has wondered this very thing over and over since he first laid eyes on you.

It makes absolutely no sense. You are not exquisitely beautiful to anyone but him--or so it seems as you only every draw his gaze while out and about. Thor has come to see you as the only beauty in all the realms that could possibly match the need in his heart. A fitting piece. His ideal. Yet, you are nothing like the women that the people of Earth deem as particularly desirable. That is to say, there is nothing wrong with you either.

Had Thor not seen you in that exact moment when your exuberance had shot out from those dazzling eyes of yours, stunning him into immobility, changing his heart forever and then fallen dull and sad the very next moment, perhaps Thor would not feel the way he does?

“I don’t know.” He admits. “I think that is why I cannot get her out of my head. She’s just so…so…so…”

“Vulnerable?” Nat offers.

“Hot?” Bucky wonders, Nat smacks his arm. “Ow.”

“Right?” Steve suggests, sipping his cup of coffee with a knowing look in his storm blue eyes. Thor meets them and his own brighten considerably.

“Yes. Right. That she is. I don’t know what makes her right, but she is so very right. And she is indeed most vulnerable and strong at the same time though her strength is not in the way we would count it. She’s not a fighter. Not in that sense.”

“There’s more than one way to be strong.” Nat affirms, nodding at Thor with a proud smile on her lips, her fingers gently stroking the muscle of Bucky’s bicep as she takes another drink of her coffee.

Thor turns to Bucky who’s sitting now with his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand, staring at the Thunder God.

“And she most definitely is hot. Perhaps not like those women on your magazines or in your picture boxes.”

“Dude, you know what they’re called.” Bucky gripes, amused.

“Televisions, yes. She is not that. She’s real.” Thor gushes slow and mystified.

His eyes are a mist of love cantered outpouring unrestrained and unbidden. He can feel it flow out from him in waves of gossamer heat, enveloping all of them and painting them in beautiful heaven light. Golden warm and saturated in allure.

Can they feel it? Can they feel how he loves you already?

Nat’s hand tightens around Bucky’s bicep and Bucky’s chin slips from his hand as he shifts in his seat, radiating towards Nat. His arm wraps around her shoulders and he pulls her closer.

Steve’s eyes glaze over briefly then with a lovestruck look across his usually calm expression, he smirks.

“Woah, there. Reel that in, buddy. We don’t want the whole tower to start finding closets to make whoopee in.” Steve’s smirk shifts to a grin as his eyes move over to Nat and Bucky who are sitting much closer to each other now, Nat’s leg draped over Bucky’s right knee.

“Oh, sorry.” Thor blushes, feeling woeful for his slip. “I forget sometimes the effect I have on the people of Earth. I don’t use that ability much. Have had no use for it. How strange. This is the first time it's slipped out.”

Slowly Nat and Bucky slap out of the daze as Thor reigns in his uncanny fertility booster. Nat blushes scarlet as she realizes she’s practically on Bucky’s lap and quickly scrambles off of it.

“Oh, I’m…sorry.” She whispers huskily at him.

“No, it’s my mistake.” Bucky hurries to appease her, cheeks burning along with hers.

They renew their distance and put an extra foot between them for good measure.

Thor eyes them cautiously. He knows what’s been budding between them, but they still haven’t-

“Anyway,” He begins. “You are right in your assumptions that she is nothing but a normal girl. And she is that, but she is so much more. To me. I don’t know why.”

“Hot doesn’t always have to mean physically attractive.” Bucky offers, still blushing but calmer. Though, he keeps stealing glances at Nat.

“But she is physically attractive. She’s attractive to me. Her body is perfection.” Thor argues.

“And that’s great.” Bucky tells him. “It’s good that you’re attracted to her physically. I just mean that a perfect body—the women you were talking about in our magazines and on T.V. and movies—it doesn’t always mean one thing. What I’m saying is that, even if she’s not perfect to me or Steve or any other guy on the planet, if she’s perfect to you, then that’s great, Thor. But—and I’ll kill you if you tell anyone I said this—you aren’t just after her for that are you? To…bury the old hammer?”

“How dare you accuse me of such misconduct!” Thor shoots to his feet, hand banging the table.

“I didn’t!” Bucky hurries to calm him. “I’m just saying that while being attracted to her from a distance is great, maybe you should finally try and talk to the girl?”

“He’s right.” Nat agrees. “We know you like what you’ve seen so far, but what if what she has to say doesn’t hold up? You aren’t planning on stalking her forever, are you?”

Thor calms down instantly, slowly sitting back down to wrap his hand around his cup once more. “Please don’t call it stalking.” He begs.

Nat smiles. “Fine, but you are going to talk to her, right?”

“Yes.”

“When?” Bucky asks.

“I-I don’t know.” Thor grieves, grabbing fistfuls of blonde hair, grown out in waving locks that just reach the tips of his ears. He needs to cut it again.

“Soon, Thor. You can’t keep following her. She’ll think it’s weird. God of Thunder or not. You follow a girl; it means you’re a creep.” Steve insists.

“But I’m not a creep.” He sobs, no actual tears, just the sentiment. “I swear I’m not.”

He looks desperately between Nat and Bucky then finally at Steve who is nodding.

“We know that, Bud. But…do yourself a favor and talk to her sooner rather than later. You don’t want to be that Avenger. The one people read about in the tabloids.”

“Oh, you mean me?” Bucky turns to look at Steve, a smirk in place.

“Yes.” Steve says and sips his coffee.

“Right.” Thor agrees, sitting up straighter, downing his drink then rising to his feet. He pulls the front of his hoodie down, adjusting the collar so that it looks neater. “Right. I can do this. I’ll talk to her. Yeah. I will. It can’t be that hard, right? I can do this.”

“Not wearing that you can’t.” Bucky frowns. “Trust me, you show up in a hoodie…”

“He’s still pretty hot, Buck.” Nat assures him.

“Still.” Bucky insists, nodding at Nat with an I know he’s hot, alright? expression. “Trust me. At least wear that thing you wore that time when you followed her to the Met. That navy blazer.”

“Again?” Thor wonders, worried. What if you’d seen him in it and he hadn’t noticed? It has been weeks though.

“Then we’ll get you something else, but definitely don’t go in a hoodie and jeans. Save that for when she’s known you for a while. For when you’re actually dating.”

“Dating? Courting?” Thor smiles, his heart aflutter, his stomach twirling. “Y/N and I? Courting?”

It fills him with a humming euphoria, the idea of you and him dating.

He pictures it. You cuddled in his arms on a sofa watching TV or reading a book while he watches you, that beautiful brilliance in your eyes stunning and agonizing all at once.

That euphoria rolls over his friends again and only when he looks at Bucky and Nat, Nat straddling Bucky’s hips with her hands in his long dark hair, does Thor realize he’s doing it again.

This time Steve is too amused to interrupt. He’s leaning his elbows on the counter, staring at Nat and Bucky with a smug smile.

“Oh, sorry.” Thor shuts it off, clearing his throat nervously.

It takes a second, but Nat suddenly straightens her hands, gasping lightly as she looks back at Bucky’s hands secured around the curve of her butt.

“Hands, Barnes, or I’ll cut them off.”

“Oops.” Bucky says, though he sounds anything but apologetic. “Thor’s fault.”

Nat rises and now the shade of a cherry tomato, she marches out of the kitchen.

Bucky turns a blushing soft smile to Thor and shakes his head once. “Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome.”

It has been almost six months since Thor first saw you. Over time he has come to appreciate your quiet nature. Not because he would prefer to have you silent. He longs to speak with you and get your side of many things.

However, he can see the way you work now. Your mind. He can almost see you thinking. Doing it. The subtle art of listen, look, learn and then speak—if those horrible people you call friends ever allow you to do so, that is.

Today, Thor made sure to get up half an hour early. He poured through his closet and the meager pickings of fine clothes within. He can't use the navy blazer. You might have seen him in that though he has no reason to suspect you have.

There’s a black tie suit but…that's too formal, right? He's got several nice pants. Trousers? Slacks? He's not sure which ones they are exactly but he picks a nice black pair, stiff crease lines at the front and back.

He tosses his towel aside and begins to pull them on before he thinks better and carefully folds them on top of the drawer for his collection of fancy watches. A gift from Tony though he hardly ever wears them.

He rifles through the second drawer and produces a pair of red briefs then slips them on, adjusting himself in them with a frown. He's not much for underwear, truth be told but with you…he feels weird dangling about in his pants.

He smiles as he pictures the flush you might get from realizing he's not wearing underwear. Would you be embarrassed? You’re so sweet. So gentle. So perfect.

He places both hands on his now brief covered hips and can’t quite wipe the smile from his face. He looks up into his full length mirror and his cheeks are red. His eyes are brimming with excitement. His smile is goofy and wide and he hasn’t felt this eager in so long.

Not for a girl. Only for battle.

“Snap out of it, Thor. Get it together.” He chastises, clearing his throat as he realizes how stupid he must look, standing there in his underwear smiling like a dumbass.

He grabs his pants and slips them on. Muscles rippling, he pulls on a plain grey t-shirt then moves to look at his shirts. Most of his button ups look too stifling. Tight and hot. Choking.

Although, with the weather on the more brisk side, hot might not be a bad idea.

He slides over to the jackets and sweaters and finds a thick, soft, knit navy sweater. Too thick for both an undershirt and the sweater. He peels off his shirt and then slips the sweater on.

He pushes the sleeves up to just below his elbows and then moves back to his watches to select one that’ll match.

As he chooses his shoes, a pair of black boots, he feels his heart ache in nervousness. It quivers, afraid.

What if you don't like him? What if you get one look at him and simply get up and leave? What will he do with himself? He'll be heartbroken.

This is foolish. He should just keep watching you from afar. This is safer. This is better.

If he never tries to talk to you, then you can never reject him. He can continue to watch you from a distance and enjoy your dwindling smiles.

Dwindling. Less and less do you smile. Still as observant as always, but you almost rarely speak with your friends though you still sit with them and accompany them places.

No. He must show you that there are some who will hang on your every word. That you are worth listening to. You matter. So much. To him. Already.

You have yet to speak a word, but you are already so important.

Somehow Thor is able to find his courage and he heads out, dressed nicely enough to impress with the easy casualty of his outfit.

With Bucky’s approval—who then takes a quick exit when Nat wanders into the common room—Thor heads out to see you now feeling sure that he’s doing the right thing.

The café is not as busy as it usually is. Thor understands that you like this. For as long as he’s been following you—he refuses to see what he’s been doing as stalking, damn Natasha—he’s known that you come early on purpose. You show up an hour before your friends and he’s honored that by staying away and only coming at his regular time instead of the earlier hour you set aside for yourself.

He’d shown up by chance one day, to ask the barista what your favorite drink was as you bring your own reusable cup and he can never see what they put in it, only to find you sitting at your usual table. Alone. Enjoying the silence of the early morning with your phone screen shining up at you. What do you look at in that hour?

Thor really wants to know.

The little bell above the door dings and Thor moves in, searching for you the instant the rich caffeinated air fills his lungs. Hazelnut, vanilla, mocha, and caramel; cinnamon, sweet syrup, chocolate, and the smell of baking bread welcome him warmly.

He finds you as he had that one morning. Sitting at your usual table—reading, right in the middle of the shop, four chairs around a small square birch yellow table. The sheen of wood inviting and cool. Luckily for him, your table is near the register.

He adjusts his sweater. Nervously he strokes the small spiky hairs on the sides of his head where he had Steve buzz it short again leaving a long wide strip along the top of his head slightly longer. He fixes his watch, regretting his choice to wear it as he’s not used to it and it’s distracting as hell.

The closer he gets the more he can see what you’re wearing. Your blue coat is hung on the back of your chair. He’s seen it before. The rest he has not and he almost stumbles as he bumps into a chair, accidentally shoving a patron forward into his coffee.

“Oh, forgive me.” Thor begs. “Sorry. So sorry. I’ll buy you a new coffee.”

Thor leans down to whisper at the man who waves him off then seems to realize that it’s Thor having bumped into him.

“Oh my-Can I have an autograph?” He asks excitedly, beginning to rise but Thor quickly pushes him back down by the shoulders so that he remains glued to his seat.

“Shh, yes, of course.” Thor gives him a tight nervous smile and quickly signs his name on the first page of the book the man holds up for him.

“Thank you so much! My wife is such a fan!”

“Oh.” Thor smiles wider, flattered. “How kind of her. Please, keep your voice down.”

He has nothing to worry about though. You don’t look up. You’re wrapped up in your book.

Thor’s only temporarily distracted because he tears his eyes back to you in your gray long sleeved sweater, your soft orange suspender skirt—large buttons along the front and large round buckles at the shoulders—and a pair of worn brown leather boots on your feet.

Your hair so often left to its own devices is gathered high on your head into a messy bun leaving your neck exposed for his eyes to feast on.

He has to force his eyes away from you because you’re beautiful and he’s staring and as lovely as your eyes look all brilliant, devouring your book, he needs to stop staring!

He turns to the barista and gathers his thoughts to focus on his plan.

“Woah, you’re here again today Mr. God of Thunder?” The short barista asks, green eyes shining, excited smile on her face.

“Hello.” He peeks back over his shoulder at you but you’re still just staring at your book. “Just Thor is fine.”

“Right. Yeah, cool. What can I get for you Mr. Thor?”

“No. Just ‘Thor’.” Thor insists, slightly muttered under his breath in embarrassment.

“Oh. Okay. Th-Thor.” The barista giggles. “What can I get for you Mr. Thor? I mean, Thor! Just Thor!”

Why is she being so loud?! Thor sighs and he hears you shift behind him. He doesn’t dare look. “Um…I don’t know. Yesterday I had-”

“A regular coffee. Cream. Two sugars.” The barista laughs again and though she is sweet, Thor is beginning to worry about the amount of noise she’s making. “Would you like the same today?”

Behind he can hear the scrape of your chair and he turns to look for you. You’re getting up, gathering your things. No! You can’t be leaving. With your arms full as you hold your coat, book, and purse, you hesitate then move towards one of the alcoves along the far wall.

Damn barista! She was being too loud and probably drove you away. You like your silence in the morning.

You shove your coat into the booth, your purse thrown on top of it and your book deposited on the half table that protrudes from the wall. A small lamp lights the space, dim lights overhead. It’s in all reality a booth with only one side as if someone decided to rip it in half and then place the seats in alcoves one in front of the other.

The setup, minus the walls in the middle, remind Thor of the seats that he’d once seen in a yellow school bus when a group of kids had visited the tower.

You come back, grab your cup, and Thor knows that it’s now or never.

“Excuse me, Miss?” Thor’s voice is trembling, his hands are shaking with nerves and he hopes that you can’t tell and that no one from the team is spying on him because he has never felt himself so vulnerable before.

He feels exposed, like a vein, easily cut and raw.

You freeze, startled to be addressed by him it seems because your eyes are wide as saucers. Your lovely mouth pops open as you stare at him, perplexed and shocked.

“I’m sorry to bother you but, might you perhaps make a suggestion? I like coffee but have never had anything more than a plain coffee with cream and sugar.” Thor explains, hoping to bury the shake in his voice with his words and a fidgety smile.

He curls in on himself. Hoping to seem less intimidating with his shoulders hunched.

Your eyes wander to the barista and your brow narrows in more confusion.

Speak to me, my pearl. Thor thinks, pleading wildly with you silently.

“Wouldn’t the barista know more about what you should try than I would?” Your voice is surprisingly strong. Sure. Nothing like his quaking timber.

“Oh, but, your coffee al-” He stops himself and chooses his words carefully. “Your coffee smelled so tempting just now when I passed you. What are you having?”

Shit. He’d almost said always smells so tempting. He must be careful.

Your perplexed expression doesn’t waver. Instead you stand up straight and bring your cup up to your nose to smell but beyond the White Chocolate Mocha that he knows you are drinking, he can smell you and you smell more exquisite than he thought possible. Like coconut and strawberries and the slightest hint of nutmeg.

How is even your smell so tempting and perfect?

“It’s a White Chocolate Mocha.” Your hands are cupped around your mug, soft fingers curled gently. “Without the whip cream.”

Your lips are perfect. Kissable. He would love to taste the coffee on them.

“If you have a sweet tooth though, with the whip will be better.” You reach up and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and Thor wishes he were your hand so that he might caress the sides of your head as you just have.

“Sweeter.” You assure him and your face finally relaxes into a soft and stunning smile. It must be no larger than a slight curve to the corners of your lips and yet it transforms your face and you are alight again.

Thor can’t breathe.

“R-Right.” He wheezes, then clears his throat when your smile grows larger at the sound of his voice. “Right. Thank you. I will try that.”

Your eyes are shining so bright, life breathed into them by the discussion of coffee for some reason. Your lips part and you laugh. You actually laugh. Not an audible laugh. It’s just a sigh. A small puff of sweet air from your lips as your eyes shift down to his shoulders then back up to meet his eyes and Thor suddenly feels a swell of pride to know that he actually tried to look good for you.

Do you like what you see? Gods, let her like what she sees.

You nod and without another word you wander over to your selected alcove and slide into the booth. You steal one more glance at him and then shyly look away and bury your nose once more in your book.

Thor is floating. He feels as light as a feather. Like he could fly. Well, he can actually fly. But he feels as if gravity were nothing. He might float up to the ceiling and crash through to the floor above. He might rise higher and higher until he’s in the sky itself, floating amongst the birds and clouds.

He doesn’t remember placing the order for your suggestion but suddenly his name is being called by the barista. She’s pouting as she places his cup on the counter and slides it over to him, not releasing it until he has it held within his hands.

“Thank you.” He mumbles. Smiling stupidly at her.

As he turns to look back towards you, all he can see is your elbow, hidden in the booth as you are, but just your elbow shines in pristine light.

Thor thinks back to all the teasing he’s endured from the team over his crush on you, for that is what this must be. A crush. Honestly, all the teasing was worth it if it eventually led to such a small but treasured moment.

You. Smiling. At him.

Twitterpated. The word Sam had teased him with not two weeks ago pops into his head and he’s smiling like a sap. Too enthralled with you to care what he might look like to others.

With your tiny laugh playing over and over in his head, Thor is instilled with a sudden confidence and he marches forward, careful not to seem too eager but also unwilling to hide his enthusiasm for you. He crosses into view and he sees your eyes focused hard on your book.

He stops, sliding a little as he hesitates to interrupt you. You look so invested that he almost wishes he was that book. He’d give anything for you to gaze at him like that.

You flip the page and don’t see him, although you tilt your head a little so that you’re facing him as you read.

Suddenly your eyes burst into sunshine, twinkling like the starlit nights on Asgard, bewitching and majestic. How the hell is it possible that you can fit an entire galaxy into your eyes? That must be the only way that your eyes can sparkle like that. There is no other explanation.

Then you laugh. Thor’s heart shatters then mends and becomes whole once more only to erupt into a gallop at the small sound of your actual giggle. A real giggle. He suspects this is what his mother had meant when she’d told him that when she first heard him laugh as a baby, her world had suddenly centered and nothing else mattered than to make him happy. Then when Loki had come and he’d laughed, her world shifted again and now she had two suns shining in her sky.

This is what she probably meant because nothing will ever be the same after hearing that giggle. He must make you laugh. He’ll make you happy or die trying.

“Excuse me?” He says bravely, taking one large step to move up to the edge of the table you’re at. The alcove is smaller than him and he has to duck a little so that you might see all of him.

“Oh, hi.” You smile, kindly, sweetly.

Can he kiss you yet? Your eyes are still shining. Up. At him. He’s awash in their purity. He might just stand there forever. If only there was a way to freeze a moment.

“Hi.” He says, deep voice shaking in his chest.

You smile a little more, huff another one of those tiny laughs, and lay your book down. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He says stupidly. “I mean, I already said that. I was wondering if I might join you?”

“Oh.” Your smile falls away, replaced by genuine surprise. “S-sure.”

Why are you stuttering?! “I do not have to, if you would prefer to read and enjoy your coffee alone-”

“No!” You hurry to say, smiling that sweet smile again. “It’s not that, I just-Of course, you can join me. If you’d like?”

You almost seem unsure but you’re already shoving your coat over and making room for him. The booth isn’t small, but it isn’t large. For someone like Thor there are rarely large enough seats.

“I would like it very much.” And he smiles, unable to fight the heat in his chest and the way it drives him towards you. He slides in, realizing as you lean back that he’s sliding too close to you too fast, his arm already draped around the back of your seat.

He quickly makes it seem as if he were simply trying to get himself comfortable as he settles into the spot beside you and then brings his arm back forward and wraps his own hands—both of them, best not be tempted—around his hot cup of coffee.

You’re sitting facing him, slightly turned, your right knee touching his left and he can feel your skin’s heat through his pants.

No touching, Thor. He reminds himself. For even though he’s been watching you for such a long time, you have only just met him.

For almost five whole minutes, the two of you sit in utter silence, sipping your coffees and saying nothing. You look up at him with those shining eyes and you smile. Thor smiles back, unable to speak in case you do.

He doesn’t want to interrupt you! You’ve had six months of withdrawal. He’s watched you shrink and shrink until you became so overlooked that you were never asked your opinion by those you counted as friend. And it became natural that you never offered it freely.

Say something, my cherub. Anything. I will listen.

When he thinks he might go mad, you actually lower your hands into your lap and look down at them shyly as you bite your bottom lip. “H-How do you like the coffee? Too sweet?”

You look up and meet his eyes and he almost doesn’t realize that you’ve asked him a question because he’s so enamored with the sound of your voice, easy and tentative, uncertain in its strength all of a sudden.

“Er, no. It’s just right. Perfect. The whip cream is great.” He takes a sip as if to prove it to you.

“I-” You hesitate, and your confidence seems to be wavering. No. He wants you to be confident! Speak to me, my gem. Tell me everything. “I actually don’t like the whip cream. Sometimes they forget to take it off and I’ll drink it like that, but I prefer not to have it.”

“Do you not like the taste?” Thor’s more lurid self disappoints. Though the whipped cream back on Asgard had been a bit less saturated in sugar, they had used it very similarly. In the kitchen…and in the bedroom.

“Oh, no. It’s not that. It’s just messy. It makes the coffee all weird. I like whip cream. In moderation.” You explain, then reach up to touch your cheeks.

Was he too obvious? Shit.

“I see. Sugary foods are best in moderation. Or so the team keeps telling me. I never leave them any Pop Tarts and they get angry at me.”

You laugh. Amused by his story about being chastised by his team? Should he share more of them? No! He’ll let you dictate the flow of conversation.

“I’m sorry-” Thor suddenly realizes that he hasn’t introduced himself. “I seem to have lost my mind today. I am Thor, son of Odin. God of Thunder.”

You huff another irresistible laugh. “I know. I mean, it’s nice to meet you.”

Thor’s cheeks flush. Of course, you’d know him. He’s everywhere. Not on purpose but being an Avenger does that.

“Though honestly, dressed like that, I didn’t realize it was you at first. You look different than when you’re in your uniform?” Your eyes roam his form. Devouring his outfit.

“A bad different?” He worries.

“No! No. You look…” You stop yourself and touch your cheeks again.

You look so good bashful. Gods, he’d really like to hug you and kiss you. But no doubt he would scare you away if he tried.

Small steps, Thor. Take your time.

He blushes redder. “And what is, if you do not mind my asking, your name?”

“Wow, I’m an idiot.” You frown. “Sorry. My name is Y/N. Y/N y/l/n.”

Like he didn’t already know that. “It is my great honor to meet you, Y/N y/l/n.”

Though, to be fair, he didn’t know your last name until this moment.

“Y-Y/N…” He stutters over your name. Somehow saying it aloud finally, to you. To your face. Gods, that face.

This time he's very aware as that golden wave of euphoria washes over him. He sees it reflected in your eyes for a moment. A daze, and you scoot closer.

No! Thor shuts his eyes, shoving that impulse aside. He won't make you do anything with that.

When he opens his eyes however, he sees that you’re fussing with your jacket. Leaning towards him so that you can pull it out from under your butt.

Wait…had you not responded to his thing? His power?

He turns it on again, focusing on his intense desire to have you, to keep you, to love you.

You look at him once your jacket is out and you flatten it against the wall then turn to face him a little better. You lean back against it and give him an innocent smile.

And you wait, hands in your lap as you sit facing him. Legs carefully crossed. Thumbs twiddling. Patiently waiting for him to speak even though the push of attraction is emanating from deep in his belly.

He shuts it off again, clearing his throat. “Um…”

What does this mean? Do you not like him? Are you not at all attracted to him? If he takes it from what happened with Nat and Bucky, his thing only works when the two people are already emotionally involved or highly compatible.

Are you and he not compatible? That is unacceptable.

Thor reaches out, placing his right hand on the table, tapping his finger against the edge of your book as he tries to focus on just you again and not what your immunity to his pull might mean.

“Um…what is this book about? You looked very engrossed when I walked up.” Thor smiles softly.

You look to your book and your eyes brighten in that heartwarming way and Thor forgets his worries because all that matters is that look of excitement in your eyes.

“It's a novel. A er…a love story to be honest.” You seem embarrassed for a moment. “Do you read novels?”

“I must confess all the books I have read were mainly in my studies as a Prince of Asgard. While that did mean reading a few classics, they were of Asgard.”

“Ugh, I should probably be reading educational books. Non-fiction. But I-I'm a sucker for a good love story.” You chew on your lip and Thor wants nothing more than to reach over and trace that bottom lip with his thumb.

“What is this one about?” He asks again, eager to keep that excitement in your eyes.

And it's there, in your eyes, for all of two seconds before it fizzles.

“You wouldn't be interested.” You tell him. He can hear the defeat in your voice. You’ve given up. You’re not prepared to show your excitement to anyone. After what might be a lifetime of being overlooked, let alone the past six months.

How long before Thor found you had you been timidly stepping aside, letting others speak while you kept your words to yourself?

You deserve to be heard.

“If you are interested…I am interested. Please, tell me.” He begs gently, his voice low because he so wants you to be comfortable with him.

You look at him, eyes boring into his as if in search of a lie but Thor only smiles, turning a bit more to look at you, laying his left arm along the back of the booth.

It comes rushing back, the sparkle to your eyes, and after another tempting bite to your lower lip, you huff another quiet laugh and look down at his chest.

Thor is well aware that he must be giving you what Sam had also referred to as “heart eyes" but he doesn't care. He wants you to see it.

While before he had been patient to watch you from afar, now that he has you before him, smiling and laughing and biting that alluring lip, he must have you.

He'll take it slow. He knows you’re not forthcoming. He'll have to woo you. Carefully.

He makes sure to pepper in some questions as you speak but he keeps himself silent as much as possible. You drift from your book to other topics, movies with similar themes and other books with the opposite. You come back to the one you're reading eventually and Thor is determined to be completely silent now so that he might listen to the way your voice rises and falls with your enthusiasm.

How can your companions not see this brilliance and be mesmerized? Why do they see only their own need to express their thoughts and shut you out?

Fools. Blind fools.

You’ve been explaining the book for almost ten minutes, uninterrupted when you suddenly realize this. Your eyes widen with worry but Thor smiles broadly, pearly whites against the hay and chestnut scruff of his beard.

“That sounds quite dramatic.” He acknowledges. “And sad.”

“It is a little. Dark. Exploring the choices and viewpoints of two cheating spouses? It makes you realize that people sometimes have unique reasons for straying. Not that it's right. I’m not defending it. I don't really have much experience myself but I would never cheat.”

“Have you not dated?” Thor wonders, stupidly hoping you’ll say no. He's feeling greedy.

“Not for a long time. We broke up because he moved, not because we grew apart.” You confess.

“Oh?” Thor's heart gives a small ache. Someone else in this world had had the opportunity to love you.

“This was years ago.” You explain. “And you?”

Thor blinks, realizing what you're asking him. Eyebrows raised high, smile returned as he nervously looks at and fiddles with the corner of your book again.

“Well, I dated Jane, here on Earth. Most humans know that. It wasn’t exactly a secret. And I did have a lot of time to court others back on Asgard and on other various planets throughout the Universe.

“Now that I think about it, I’ve had lots of experience dating.” He admits, turning his eyes back on you only to find you looking down at your twiddling thumbs on the orange of your skirt.

You look worried. Sad?

No. That's not how he wants you to look. Where's the brightness? Did he make you sad? How? What did he say?!

“I should go.” You suddenly say.

“Go?” Thor asks, his voice slightly strangled around the word. But he barely got to spend any time with you!

“Yeah. I’m meeting my friends in the park? They wanted to go see this new store opening downtown and then I have to go into the office for a few meetings.” You sit facing forward and begin to gather your things. “I’m actually late. I should have left half an hour ago.”

Thor looks down at his watch and realizes the two of you have been sitting in the booth talking for nearly three hours.

The morning is now aged and the sky outside bright and sunny despite the constant fall chill in the air.

“Forgive me. I didn’t realize we'd talked for so long.” Thor slides out, rises to his feet and grabs his now empty cup of coffee.

He waits for you to slide out and watches you pull your coat on before shoving your book into your purse and hoisting the bag onto your shoulders, your reusable cup held in your left.

You smile up at him, nervous and still a little sad.

“Um…thanks for keeping me company.” You tell him sweetly as he follows you to the door. “I had fun.”

Thor is unashamed to stare at your beautiful face. He sees the sparkle of excitement return to your eyes and knows that you mean what you say. You enjoyed the time you spent with him and he would gladly do it again.

He must see you again.

He leans over your left to throw his cup away but your right hand shoots out to grip his wrist.

Your hand is small around him. Your skin warm and soft. No, not warm. Hot. There is a burning heat beneath your skin and it steals him of his sanity for a moment.

She's touching me! Thor celebrates.

“Aren't you going to save it?” You ask him and Thor's brow knits in confusion.

“Save it? My cup?” He wonders.

“No…” You shove your own cup under your arm and take hold of the heel of his hand with your left to hold it still then slowly turn the his cup with your right until the cardboard sleeve is facing him.

On the sleeve is a number that Thor realizes must be a phone number. Had you given him your phone number?!

Glee explodes from his eyes at the sight.

“The barista went out of her way to get you her number.” You explain and Thor's fire of elation is quickly snuffed out. “Aren't you going to keep it?”

“Oh.” He says lamely and hates it as your hands fall away from his to grip the strap of your purse. “No.”

He throws the cup.

Reaching over, he shoves the door open wide and flattens himself against it so that you might go first.

You’re still staring at the trashcan where he threw the cup but when you realize he's waiting, you hurry through. Thor is glad when you stop just outside to turn back towards him as he joins you.

“Y/N?” He probes shyly. Nervous out of his mind for what he's about to ask you.

“Yeah?”

“Might I not have your number?” His heart is a hammering of eagle wings in his chest. He nearly faints as you bite your lip again and shake your head.

He's full of desire and disappointment all at once at the sight of your nervous habit and the shake of your head? Are you denying him your number?

You reach into your purse and pull out your book and a felt tip pen. Thor stares with quiet ecstasy as you open the book and on the inside of the cover you write down your number then underline your name just above it.

You shove your pen back into your bag then hold out the book for him.

“If you weren’t you, I wouldn’t be giving you that.” You admit, voice trembling. “I don't give out my number to strangers but you’re not exactly a stranger, are you?”

Thor has never particularly hated being known as Thor, the God of Thunder. Avenger. However, he has never loved it quite like this before either.

“Er…I…um…well, thank you.” He blathers stupidly.

“I really do need to go.” You tell him.

“Of course.” He nods. “Have a—good day?”

He hesitates, feeling as if the sentiment is not good enough. His stutter makes you smile and you turn and walk away.

He watches you for a moment, staring at the shape of your body, the length of your legs, the worn leather of your boots before opening your book to look down at your number.

“Thor?”

His body is humming. Never has his name sounded so sweet on a pair of lips. Never has his heart nearly shattered and exploded all at once. Never has he needed something without knowing he needed it like the way he suddenly needs to hear you utter his name again.

He looks up at you, your star shine eyes deep pools of galaxy, enrapturing him. Holding him hostage in their purity.

“Make sure you call me, okay?” Despite the quiet confidence or that blatant enthusiasm shining at him, your timidity flows through in the shake of your voice. “I really want to finish that book.”

“Of course.” Thor assures you and holds it up for you.

Oh, please, say my name again.

“Bye, Thor.” You give him a little wave and he returns it as his body melts at the sound of your sweet tone wrapped around his name.

He watches you until the blue of your coat is out of sight.

Is it too soon to call you right now? He wants to hear your voice.

Twenty minutes later, Thor storms into the tower, the common room empty save for the stoic redhead sharpening her knives on the coffee table in the living room portion of the large room.

“Natasha, my friend, I need your help.” Thor exclaims, stopping a few feet from her.

“Hey, man.” Bucky says, moving around from behind Thor and towards Nat where he drops off his own set of knives before sitting on the floor across from his crush. “How'd it go? Did you get to talk to your mark?”

“She's not a mark.” Thor grumbles. “And yes. I did.”

Bucky beams up at him, his brown tresses hooked behind his ears. “Woah, good for you. Was she everything you hoped she'd be?”

“She was more but stop distracting me. I came with a mission for Natasha.”

The two of them freeze and turn to stare at Thor.

“What mission?” Nat asks, intrigued.

“I need…a cellular phone.” Thor then holds up the book beside his head proudly, big goofy smile in place. “She gave me her number.”

Forever Tag List - CLOSED!!!!!!! Until I can make more room. @until-theend-oftheline @jessieray98 @dsakita @coldfacedwarf @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @fairislesheets @jewelofwinter @mannls @moonlessnight14 @sovereignoblivious @pandazlazykid @lilulo-12 @moli1497 @shifutheshihtzu @the-real-mary-jane @pastelxvirgo @just4muggles @vulpecula-minor @wildefire @mdgrdians @tiffanynguyen03 @shield-agent78 @i-cant-shine-without-darkness @the-wayward-robot @babytrollgirl @alagalaska @sincerelytlh @theonelittleone @sea040561 @xrosegoldwolfx @peppermintvanillaa @awkwardfangirl2014 @crist1216 @xxloki81xx @idk-random-fan-girl @romimiux @badassbaker @this-side-of-midnight5 @booklover2929 @natura1phenomenon @xlittlestarling @whosmarisaaarw @hiddles-rose @supernaturaldean67 @literallymoonshine @sebbystanlover-vk @pineapplebooboo @quokkatrash @marvelpott @spaghettirogers @rainbowkisses31 @basementcafe @death-unbecomes-you @kind-sober-fullydressed

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heartofhryule · 6 years

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Breath of the Wild: Captured Memories - Chapter 7

Preface and Disclaimer; First and foremost; SPOILER WARNINGS. If you have not played The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, or completed the Captured Memories Quest and want to stay unspoilered for it, DO NOT READ. Keep Reading link provided for that reason.

So I am writing these as I play through BotW for the first time - which means they probably won’t be ‘one-a-day’ consistent - I have finally gotten all of the memories, but not yet gone for the final fight at Hyrule Castle. #Soon. I will post them as I can though! Promise! I also plan to include links to the cutscene for you to watch at the bottom, if so desired - at least for the ones I can find. Any other warnings that become necessary, I will add for content as I go. For now, enjoy! [All Chapters here for your reading enjoyment.]

Y’all… Dammit Salty Bird. I got irritated all over again rewatching the scenes to get the dialog for Revali’s scenes. He’s SUCH a well written character... and I hate him. Well, hate is strong. But I really, really dislike him a lot. Even when he “gets better” he’s still a !@#%%^&^er. But, I like this chapter, and I hope you will too. Chapter 7 - Revali’s Flap

The Rito Village, and land surrounding, was genuinely breathtaking. The wood and canvas huts that served as both homes and shops were built around the landscape’s large peaks of sandstone. This design allowed wind to blow through the village unhindered without disrupting structural integrity. At this altitude and in the region, Link was chilled. Pretty much constantly. But, he’d bought some new armor from the nice Rito vendor in trade for some amber and a few sapphires he’d found. Now he was nice and toasty warm.

Sitting by the cooking pot inside a part of the village’s inn, Link stared into the fire as his dinner marinated. He’d been here before. He could feel it, and this was not a place soon forgotten. It might have been if it was the first place he’d come, but even then the striking beauty of the land, difference in architecture, and the colorful individuality of its inhabitants were like nothing else in all of Hyrule.

Maybe that was the opinion of an ignorant Hylian child that he had once been. He had grown up in and around the Zora Domain in the Lanayru Province. This knowledge was coming back to him slowly, and explained why he’d gone there first. It also meant the Zora had never seemed odd to him, though consequently neither had they seemed particularly awe inspiring in a long, long while. The Rito however, were a different story.

Ladelling out his dinner from the pot, simmered fruit for the moment as he was cold, tired and in need of foraging for some supplies, Link leaned back against the solid wood support beam of the hut. Simmered fruit made him think of his mother - now that he remembered her face. She made the best, and had taught him long ago. It always made him feel better.

He needed that right now. There was a long way to go for him to find all the locations in Zelda’s album, and take back control of two more Divine Beasts from Ganon. He was tired, and had only arrived less than an hour before, deciding that he was going to eat something before speaking with the Tribe Chief. In the sky overhead, Vah Medoh let out a shrill and bone chilling cry. The enormous ancient technology flew overhead in the shape of a bird, stone and metal kept aloft by gigantic propellers and magic. Glancing up, and giving a good, long look at the Calamitous energies pulsing through the construct, Link ate his simmered fruit quickly.

No rest for the weary, as it were.

After eating, he asked directions to speak with the Rito Chief and had the oddest interaction. It was as though the Chief could tell he was the fallen hero, but couldn’t accept it. Link had stopped bothering to try and explain it to people months ago at this point. He was told of Teba, and that perhaps the warrior could help him, if nothing else the Chief was worried.

But it was the following conversation with Teba’s wife that ignited something in Link. She showed him Revali’s Landing, a flight platform just outside her home named for the Champion of the Rito from a century ago. Looking at it, Link was taken by a memory.

***

Standing out on the center of the flight platform, Link craned his neck and shielded his eyes to look up at the impressive Vah Medoh high above him. It truly was an impressive piece of ancient technology, and he’d listened intently to Zelda lament at great length that she would never be able to set foot on such a marvel. The sky was the clearest blue surrounding the Divine Beast, and wind cool despite the sun’s warmth. But then, it was always cool in the Hebra region.

Just as Link had the thought he should probably go find the Rito Champion, as that was whom he had climbed the peaks to see on behalf of Zelda, the wind picked up. At first it was small, but it rapidly build to a steady cyclonic breeze that seemed to come from beneath the platform.

In the blink of an eye and the flash of dark grey feathers, the Rito Champion appeared from below. Shooting up into the air high above, Revali spread his charcoal and white feathered wings, gliding down to a light and graceful landing before Link.

“Impressive, I know,” the Rito archer said in his normal, smug tenor. “Very few can achieve mastery of the sky. Yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar. It’s considered to be quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito.” Revali turned to pose dramatically, one wing lifted where he was backlit by the sun in the beautiful day.

Link managed to not roll his eyes at Revali’s grandiloquence, giving him a tight-lipped smile. Revali didn’t like him - Link knew this. The Rito felt within his superior self image that he should have been the Princess’s appointed knight as he was clearly the most capable and worthy of the Champions. Clearly.

Though the Rito had never said those words exactly, it was the undertone of every word, sneer, snort and action the Champion took while in Link’s presence to date. Somehow the Hylian knight had a feeling this interaction would be no different.

Link found Revali cutting him a sharp look, speaking again before the knight could give a syllable of proper greeting. “With the proper utilization of my superior skills, I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with Ganon,” be boasted with a bow. Hopping down from the railing on which he’d perched, Revali tucked his wings behind his back as if about to give a dissertation (which Link had no doubt he was going to do just that). Strolling forward, Revali’s expression was one of barely contained detestation. “Now then, my ability to explored the firmament is certainly of note… But let’s not- and pardon me for being so blunt-” he said as his tone changed from fairly condescending to outright patronizing, “Let’s not forget the fact that I am the most skilled archer of all the Rito.”

“Oh here we go,” Link muttered to himself into the wind.

“Yet despite these truths, it seems I have been tapped to merely assist you. All because you happen to have that little darkness sealing sword on your back. I mean, it’s just… asinine.” The only thing that prevented Link from drawing his sword then and there and teaching this megalomaniac of a Rito a lesson, was self control. As Revali’s red-feather rimmed, green eyes cut snidely to him, Link crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. The absurdity of this entire monologue was as laughable as it was insulting. Clearly, Revali liked hear the sound of his own voice.

“Unless,” the Rito Champion added after a moment, “You think you can prove me wrong?” He took one large step closer to Link. The bird man who was a good head taller than the Hylian leaned in, beak to nose and invading Link’s personal space aggressively. “Maybe, we should just settle this one on one.”

Link opened his mouth to say that he had no problem with Revali… not until this conversation at least, but the archer turned away and continued his drama. “But where?” he asked the wind, one wing crossed his chest as the other pretended to stroke his beak in thought. “Oh, I know! How’bout up there?!”

With a grand sweep of one wing, Revali motioned to the sky, where Vah Medoh was soaring past, making its rounds. “Oh! You must pardon me,” Revali chuckled, his tone even more supercilious than before, “I forgot you have no way of making it up to that Divine Beast on your own.” The last words were spoken with actual open aggression as the Champion spread his wings sharply, and took to the skies, leaving Link behind on the platform.

As Revali grew smaller towards Vah Medoh, and the vision began to fade, the Rito’s parting jab echoed the skies. “Good luck sealing the Darkness!”

***

As he came back to himself, Link was being stared at oddly by Teba’s concerned wife. Apparently she’d asked if he was alright, while he’d been lost to the past. “Oh, I’m sorry, yes - thank you ma’am.”

Giving him an uncertain look, she touched a delicate wing to her beak. “If you’re sure… you seemed… angry? Irritated at least. Are you well?”

Cracking his neck at the legitimate frustration Revali’s personality had left him with, he nodded. “It was… just not a pleasant memory, ma’am. Sorry to space out like that- but I promise, I will find your husband, and bring him back alive.

“Oh thank you!” she said sincerely. “Please… be safe.”

---

The knight held his shoulder and looked around the topside of Vah Medoh. The Windblight Ganon creature that had held control of Vah Medoh for so long was gone, fallen to the Master Sword. Well the Master Sword, and a not insignificant amount of bomb arrows.

Staring at the Main Control panel ten yards from where he stood, injured and exhausted, Link smirked to himself. He should just sit down, right here, and bake some apples to eat so he could regain a bit of his strength. It had been a hard fight! It had taken a lot out of him! And Revali could sit around and complain all he wanted, since there wasn’t anything the spirit of the Rito Champion could do about it.

He deserved as much for the prickly and haughty manner in which he’d been speaking while Link tried to subvert Ganon’s corruption. Though the change in tone as the hylian’s repeated successes went on had not gone unnoticed by the knight.

No, No Link wouldn’t keep him waiting… that would have been cruel. With a sigh, Link closed the distance between himself and the Main Controls, setting the Shiekah slate on the tablet as he had so many times elsewhere. The bulb, large as a room and intricate with ancient energy, changed from orange to blue, and pulsed once… twice… three times as Vah Medoh was not returned to control of the Champions.

“Well I’ll be plucked,” Revali’s echoic, ethereal voice said from behind him, “You defeated him, eh?” Link cut his eyes over his shoulder and turned around, braced for a potentially long and self absorbed speech. There Revali stood, incorporeal as both Daruk and Mipha had been, green spirit fire dancing around him where he had just landed. Spreading his wings wide, Revali seemed reserved… for Revali. “Who would have thought?”

Looking at each other a long moment, Link felt… differently than he had before. Mipha and Daruk had been his friends, people he cared a great deal for. Revali and he had not been friend, and even actively disliked one another a century ago. And yet, there was still a sadness in Link’s heart, seeing the Rito Champion’s spirit.

Noting that the archer dropped his gaze and looked away before he spoke, the Rito’s next words were surprising to the hylian. “Well done.”

But Revali continued, and the moment was over. “I suppose I should thank you now that my spirit is free. This returns Medoh to its rightful owner.” With a grand gesture to the sky of one wing, Revali straightened, clearly meaning himself. “Hmph,” he added with a callous expression. “Don’t preen yourself just for doing our job.”

Link pressed his lips together and raised one eyebrow. “Oh yes. We could never have that from any Champion,” he mumbled sardonically. If Revali heard, he didn’t show it.

“I do suppose you’ve proven your value as a warrior. A warrior worthy of my unique ability. The sacred skill that I have dubbed Revali’s Gale!” Despite the posing and flapping of wings, Link forgave the Champion’s drama in the face of the nicest thing Revali had ever said about or to him.

With yet another set of dramatic movements, Revali’s spirit summoned and sent an orb of green spirit energy hurtling at Link, and as it entered him body, a familiar, strong whirlwind kicked up, lifting Link from his feet and tossing him into the air quite unexpectedly. With a flip and twist, Link landed without injury on one knee, and looked back up to the Rito… in gratitude.

“It’s now time to move on and start making preparations for Medoh’s strike on Ganon. But,” Rivalli gave a small smirk, “Only if you think you’ll still need my help while fighting inside Hyrule Castle.” It wasn’t an apology, but even a small admission that he’d been wrong so long ago was enough to inspire forgiveness entirely in Link’s heart. Revali quickly ruined the moment again by added, “Feel free to thank me now.”

Rolling his eyes, Link noticed the now familiar gold light that meant his time on the Divine Beast was over, and was shocked to hear Revali say, “Or.. .nevermind. Just go. Your job is far from finished you know.” The Rito Champion was glancing at him sidelong. Finally turning away and lifting his beak to the sun, Link was fading away already when he heard the final words of his old self appointed rival.

“The Princess has been waiting an awful long time.” Revali’s Flap - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doMVZikgnNE Freeing Vah Medoh - https://youtu.be/uxP8BqemAvc?t=1413

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