#tilieth

[kikker-oma]

@skyloftian-nutcase I humbly offer you some Abel and Tilieth comfort🥺🥺

I wanted to draw what I hope happens in the next chapter of Blood of the Hero, cus both of these beans need love and sleep and comfort❤️

You also deserve love and sleep and comfort too, dear friend❤️

[skyloftian-nutcase]

These moments in the new chapter KILLED me lofty 😭 I was playing a game with my family and I couldn’t FOCUS cuz the FEELS WERE SO STRONG (it’s a good thing) I love this family 😭😭🧡

SOSOWHEJEFOCHDKAOWBWBT SMILES SMILES

SMILES

OH MY GOSH

I—

I HAVE NO WORDS PLEASE KNOW THAT SEEING THIS AS THE FIRST THING WHEH I GET BACK AFTER DAYS OF MENTAL BREAKDOWN WAS SUCH A BLESSING THANK YOU

I’m so happy you loved the update 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[nancyheart11]

Abel gets a break ... Kind of

Abel felt his nose regain touch with the world first. The smell of sweat, rust and sickly sweet rotting fruit was not a pleasant one to wake up to. He felt his sluggish thoughts race along with his heart once he registered the cold prick of metal on his neck.

Wide awake in yet another nightmare Abel looked through his eyelashes, seeing something sharp being held threateningly against his neck. He managed to glance to his left under the guise of a lolling head with his captor’s swaying movement. His heart stopped as Ice filled his veins, the sight of Tilleth her head bowed, looking broken in the dusty light of the Yiga stronghold, was this some cruel trick? Tilleth was strong, far stronger than Abel had ever been, always finding some small joy even when the world was literally collapsing around them. He never stopped admiring how she kept going, kept being a light and a pillar in the ugly and dark world that Abel had become well acquainted with.

Then the Idiot in red behind him finally stopped talking, and Abel realized that kneeling before them was Fierce, far too large for the small cavern they were in. Before the shock of seeing his stupidly strong but well meaning companion on his knees could sink in, he heard a whoosh and a thud behind him.

The pressure on his neck was gone and Abel was quick to stand up . . .

Only to tilt too far as the ringing of metal assaulted his ears, the dust of the cave suddenly clogging his airways, but none of that mattered! Where was Tilleth, was she– 

He found her, beautiful with dirt smeared in her hair and clothes torn beyond repair, his face lifting in a smile without permission to gaze upon his golden light. Then his mouth opened in horror at the red-clothed traitor raising a blood stained sickle behind her. His arm raised as though he could reach her before the blade, but a large stick was thrown with terrifying precision into the Yiga’s head, the sickle falling from his hand shearing part of Tilieth’s beautiful blonde in a last disrespectful act from its owner.

Blinking at the sudden quiet, Abel jumped when he was touched only to breathe a sigh of relief that it was only Rusl, where had he come from? Next he knew they were emerging into painfully blinding sunlight, With Abel nearly being drug by the blacksmith until the fierce deity simply scooped up Abel.

He went to protest until Tilieth’s curls fell against him as she too was placed in the deities arms. Just this once he decided, he would let his stupidly strong and unfairly tall companion carry him, since it meant he could simply lay and admire her, bathing in the light that simply seeing her alive and well seemed to pour on his weary bones, feeling tears come to his eyes at the sight of the closest thing to a goddess he still believed in–

“He’s definitely concussed Fierce, we need to find one of those stables and hope they can help.”

Abel felt a chin touch his head for a moment and looked up, confused. 

Oh!

Right He was being carried by Fierce, how could he forget? 

Fierce looked at Rusl, gave a little hum and scooped him into his other arm, jostling Abel painfully and making his teeth ache with each step, though eventually he grew used to it enough to take his arm off of his eyes. He looked in awe as the landscape blurred by them from the speeds Fierce was traveling, he’d never seen him move that fast, could he always do that? Eventually the familiar giant fabric horse heads adorning the tops of stable’s came over the horizon and quickly grew, almost like someone had dumped a glass of water on a dried apple and watched it expand with all the liquid at once.

Abel giggled at the thought of re-waterified apples but stopped when Tilieth looked at him with raw open concern, she shouldn’t be looking at him like that! She should be showing off her honey sweet smile to the whole world!

Fierce skidded to a stop outside out the stable entrance, grass being violently pulled from the ground as his boot dug deep into the packed earth. The stable hand waiting at the outside counter had his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide as he stared at the deity, standing tall in gleaming armor with three people being easily carried in his arms.

Fierce looked at Rusl, who simply offered a small smile before extracting himself from the arm and walking up to the man, knocking gently on the counter to get his attention.

The man jumped a little, before realizing Rusl was there band nervously straightening his hat a little.

“ Ah yes, w-what can a do for you, sirs?”

His smile looked more like he had just bitten into a voltfruit than anything, but once Rusl mentioned medical aid the man’s eyes sharpened and he nodded before bringing his fingers to his mouth in a short whistle, then a vaguely familiar man with a shaved head and short beard came to the front. Abel squinted at him, trying to figure out what–

His vision became smeared and confusing, and he felt as though the world was spinning, he felt something under his knees and despite not being able to make out anything in the sickening spin of colors, started trying to crawl away from whatever was so horrible as to make all this happen.

He continued crawling until a small hand landed in his greasy tangled hair, moving back and forth slowly, soothingly. He couldn’t help leaning into the one nice thing around him right now, and gradually the world stopped spinning and the man with the beard was crouched in front of him, a spoonful of something red and sickly sweet held in front of his nose. This close he noticed a faint scar running from the man’s temple, down to his lip, coming close to his eye and nose without damaging either.

Huh

The man tried to force the spoon closer and Abel turned his head away with pursed lips, he didn’t know who this was, and he definitely didn’t want anything this man had to offer. Tilieth gently grabbed the spoon and whispered encouraging things in his ears as she brought it around. He still didn’t like it, but if his wife trusted it then he had no choice but to agree, so he swallowed the chalky and oddly bitter liquid, feeling a little betrayed still, he stuck out his tongue at the man to let him know that he didn’t like it.

As the liquid dropped to his stomach he felt a warm tingling in his head, and then the pull of sleep was too much and he succumbed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abel felt the call of nature try to drag him from sleep, but he stubbornly resisted, snuggling into Tilieth’s hair more, wanting just a few more minutes of–

Wait

His heart started pounding and his shot open, so scared of what he might see. But it was indeed Tilieth’s messy curls in front of him. Abel felt his eyes water from sheer relief, oh by the goddesses he had missed this. He went to put his head in Tilieth’s hair, but some got in his nose and he ended up doing several loud booming sneezes in quick succession.

Tilieth didn’t stir at all, but a hand larger than his head came into view, holding a handkerchief?

He stared at the thing in confusion, then followed the frankly enormous hand up the muscular arm to the familiar face of the Fierce Deity, Abel sighed as pieces of memory fell into place, telling him that his son being missing and having spent some time with his insane companions was not in fact, a bad dream. He reluctantly grabbed the piece of cloth from Fierce and used it to blow his nose, feeling a pounding headache begin between his eyes. When  fierce shifted and sunlight burned his eyes, Abel realized he must’ve gotten injured somewhat severely, since he couldn’t remember them rescuing Tilieth. The last thing he recalled was him going ahead to see if he could scout out the Yiga guards for the hideout, since his old dusty clothes were basically the same color as the dirt anyway. Then nothing.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust at himself, at the fact that he never seemed to be able to protect the ones he loved, first with Link, then tilieth, and now–

Fierce put an awkwardly large hand on his head and snapped Abel out of frustratingly familiar thoughts. He looked at Abel and once again Abel felt small under the endless gaze of the white void that made Fierce’s eyes.

“Do not fret little soldier, your beloved is safe, and I will protect you both as you recover.”

Okayyy? That was a little weird even coming from Fierce, just what had happened after he’d passed out? He looked beyond the looming figure of Fierce and realized that the cloth walls and wood flooring was clearly those of a stable. They were in an area that had been curtained off to just contain the extra soft bed Tilieth and he were sharing, and the Fierce deity himself, sitting with his sword in his lap in a casual threat display. How long had he been sitting on the hard wood floor?* Rusl peeked around the curtain and saw Abel awake, his clearly tired face lifting in a happy grin when he saw Abel awake.

Abel was struck with the change in Rusl’s expression, just from seeing him. They hadn’t really known each other all that long, despite the fact that so much seemed to happen since Link was taken that it had felt like an eternity. Yet already Rusl, who had a loving wife, three kids, and a flourishing homeland for some reason seemed to genuinely enjoy his presence? Him? Tilieth teased him about being a grump because of how not friendly he was naturally. 

Abel must have been hit really hard if he was experiencing such strong changes in emotion when for years he mostly been so tired that only his bitter and burnt determination was really able to be felt. 

“You’re awake friend! Looks like that potion helped a lot! I’m glad they still had a spoonful.”

Rusl was glad, but Abel felt his stomach swoop at the words. The last spoonful? That meanth they had no more, what happened if the Yiga were coming for them right now? With reinforcements!

“Rusl noticed the tightness in his face and spoke up. “The man who gave it to us, is collecting the ingredients to make more now, it’s why he was in the area at all apparently. And I already agreed to help him prep the things for making more when he got back. So don’t worry too much alrigh’?”

Abel sent him a halfhearted glare for the sudden twang he added to his words at the end as he gave a cheeky wink. He didn’t like it, the theatrics he’d just seen were the kind Rusl used when he was trying to keep their search for the boys out of strangers' ears. He narrowed his eyes, just what was Rusl hiding.

Fierce, cutting through the tension with his usual social awareness, that is to say almost none stated.

“Little soldier, our arrival here has caused a stir, several of the men say they are friends of yours. If they are Yiga I will happily dispose of them."

Abel was once again grateful for such a strong warrior on his side, with Fierce here he could actually rest for once, since no one in their right minds would try to attack with him nearby.

Rusl gave Fierce a shake of his head, and the sword that Abel hadn’t noticed being raised was lowered again, while Rusl brought Abel a bowl filled with a savory smelling soup. He spotted bits of Endure carrots, hearty radishes, some potato, and something green in the golden broth. Along with chunks of cuckoo floating in bits just asking Abel to dig in. He almost missed Rusl handing him the spoon with how hard he was concentrating on not drooling. He was 2 bites into the soup when Tilieth stirred and Abel put it aside to help her sit up, dipping the spoon back in and bringing it to her mouth instead, far more concerned about the new sharpness to her cheekbones than his lingering hunger. She ate most of it, then laid her head on his shoulder, and for one sweet moment all was right in the world.

“So, who are your new friends here?”

Oh … oh no, he did not have the energy to give Tilieth the unfortunate tale of just how he’d gotten to the point where traveling with a deity and a human from different times in Hyrule’s history had become normal, maybe even nice.

Luckily for him Rusl chose that moment to return with a second bowl of soup, smiling politely at Tilieth and introducing himself in his humble, yet strong way.

Abel let his head drop back and asked.

“Rusl, would you tell Tilieth what’s been happening? I don’t want to think about it more than I have to right now.”

He brought his head up to see everyone in the room staring at him. He squirmed uncomfortably inside at the attention. It couldn’t be that strange for him to recognize Rusl would do a better job, could it?

Rusl turned his shock into a smile and started in, with only the occasional interjection from Abel or Fierce of how this strange situation came to be. Tilieth listened raptly to it all, gasping and cheering at all the right places, while Rusl made it seem like Abel was a far better fighter than he was, after all he couldn’t rip the limbs off a guardian the way Fierce could, and Rusl held far more skills close to his chest than Abel would have believed possible. By the time Rusl had finished the story Abel felt a buzzing in his bones that begged him to move, or he’d go crazy.

So he hopped out of bed and went to open the curtain. Going about their business in front of him were men, familiar men. There was Jhonston of the 3rd division sweeping the floor, who’d been excellent with a spear, but had a lousy stance for close combat and had never managed to get it good enough to get promoted.

Obaleen was taking sheets off the bed’s and putting fresh one’s on, his eye for detail still clear as day despite being used on bedding rather than organizing arrows and daggers in the royal armory.

And Potsy, whose real name he’d never heard since their squadron worked far from the castle most of the time, was putting flowers into the vase of all things.

Obaleen saw him first. Dropping the bedding in his hands to the floor he pointed at Abel who froze.

���Guys, it really is the Captain he’s back!”

Everyone in the stable turned to look at him like he’s pulled the sun out of his pack or something. Suddenly the soup he’d had earlier felt like far too much, with how they sat like rocks in his stomach, the weight of all these men he’d left for dead looking at him like he was, like he was a hero, or even a good man made him want to throw up, or tear off his skin, or sink into the floor.

Rusl came out and, after only a glance at the rest of the room, started gently guiding Abel back towards the curtain.

“He’s still got a concussion, and is in need of rest and quiet. Sorry to disappoint, but I think he’d much rather see his freshly rescued wife than any of us”

Abel felt his ears burn as the room erupted in good natured laughter, the men easily letting him leave the burning weight of their eyes and get back to the relative safety of being behind the curtain and by Fierce. How did Rusl do it? He’d just taken a situation where Abel was frozen, and made it seem so easy and simple? Regardless he was grateful to climb back in with Tilieth and bury his head in her shoulder. Pretending the rest of the tent that he was now all too aware of, simply weren’t there.

He’d already gone through this with Impa? So why had it felt like the very breathe was being choked out of him when the men looked at him like he was someone special, someone good, someone who could–

Someone who could save them. Link had dealt with this for years as the princess’s chosen knight, and once they got him back and he woke up again, he’d be dealing with it again too. Abel couldn’t stop the few tears that leaked out into Tilieth’s shift at the fact that Link had had to deal with that everyday, in a never ending but always mounting pressure to perform.

Eventually the suffocatingly boisterous noise from beyond the curtain fell silent, and someone pushed aside the curtain to enter their little area. The man had a shaved head, a close cropped salt and pepper beard and-

“Regis?!?”

Abel couldn’t believe it. He’d watched this man go down under some rubble broken from an awning by a guardian’s laser, there was no way he’d survived the Calamity … though people said that about Link too. Either way he had to fight not to narrow his eyes in obvious suspicion at the man.

“Hey, good to know you’re still kicken, though you can stop trying to hold back, you look like you have dust in your eyes, Straightlace.”

Abel sent a exasperated look at Tilieth as she started giggling at the mention of the old nickname. He’d been called that for being so strict about rules, but after how the last decade had gone, the nickname fit about as well as a childhood boot and he grimaced. 

Regis gave him a nod of respect, didn’t try to get any closer to Abel, and pulled Rusl outside the little bubble that had been created with the curtain. He blinked for a moment before realizing that Regis must have been the person who was making red potions. He felt a familiar pride well up, Regis and he had been in the same year at the Knight’s academy and he had always admired the ease with which the other would pick up new skills when he put his mind to them, it looked like that natural aptitude was serving him well since everything had changed.

Abel felt like someone had taken a hammer to his head and he dropped, grunting as he held his head in his hands, trying to ride out the pain. Apparently he’d been louder than he thought, since he was vaguely aware of more bodies around than there should be, extra pillows and a warm cup of something being pushed into his trembling hands. He heard Tilieth say something next to him and the overwhelming presences retreated. When the pain cleared enough to take a look around, he say that in his hands was a warm cup of milk. When was the last time he’d allowed himself such a luxury? He couldn’t remember. He sipped at it, feeling something warmer than the milk itself settle in his brittle bones.

The next time someone came to the curtain he summoned every shred of courage he could muster to look them in the eye, then slumped in relief to see it was just Rusl, carrying his headband in one hand while he wiped some sweat from his brow with the other. Rusl saw the way he slumped and offered a comforting smile.

“Facing old memories can be real hard, I’m sorry you got surprised like that friend.* Let me know how I can help, kay”

Abel wondered just how Rusl could still be so upbeat, so purely good and kind, even with how long his eldest had been missing, it was baffling to consider. Abel couldn’t help being selfishly grateful for the cheer though, misplaced as it was being wasted on him, since he should be just fine dealing with very men he used to work with before the Calamity. He shook his head and shimmed out of bed, careful of Tilieth’s once again asleep form, her imprisonment had been hard on her and he wanted her to get as much rest as she possibly could, Fierce’s strong presence ensuring she would be safe even if Abel himself couldn’t watch over her.

“I should just face this, I can’t hide behind a curtain forever.”

Still, when Rusl put and hand on his shoulder to walk with him Abel felt the spool of tangled feelings in his gut loosen enough to breathe, just for a moment as he walked into the main area of the stable. Potsy saw him and waved them over.

“You lads are ‘ere just in time! Leenie here just declared the apple pie cool enough to eat, an from what ol’ Regis says you’ll appreciate it the most!”

Abel blinked in surprise. Apple pie? While the world was still so dangerous? Though more surprising was the fact that Regis had known it was his favorite, he couldn’t remember telling the man what his favorite food was, but for some reason he’d found out and still knew even a decade since he’d last seen the man.

A warm plate of pie was pushed into his slack hands, Abel fumbling not to drop the plate in his surprise, looking down at the flaky puffed crust, the curved ridges where the two pieces had been pinched together having a golden tint and begging to be picked off for the taste. The filling was oozing from where it had been trapped in the crust before being cut, gentle curls of steam rising from the honey yellowed apples in a golden syrup speckled with the spices that made Abel’s mouth water as he went to reach for his fork, only to realize he didn’t have one. Rusl slid him one from where he was sitting next to a messy pile of utensils and Abel dug in, uncaring of the fact that his eyes were closed in bliss, his ears were hearing nothing over the sound of memories past, and he was paying no attention to his surroundings at all.

His fork clinked against an empty plate, and Abel looked down in surprise, disappointed to see only a few this smears of syrup on the plate. But then Regis reached across the table and snatched his plate from his hands, coming back quickly with a second slice, handing it to Abel with a smirk, knowing he wouldn’t say no. 

“Tilieth will kill me if I don’t make sure she gets some.”

“I already got her a plate, Abel walked right past you while you were busy, in fact.”

Abel felt his ears burn as the others laughed at Rusl’s remark, wishing for a moment he had ears like Rusl’s that would be hidden under his mess of hair. But then he remembered the pie in front of him and turned to that rather than deal with the people around him.

After he had finished his second plate and was enjoying the lingering taste of cinnamon coating his tongue, he brought his plate to the washing area and helped, finally feeling sure enough that the men here wouldn’t stab him … while he was awake that is. He found the familiar jokes and cadence of talking with people who’d been through the same hell he had, nice.

When he finished with the dishes Tilieth had come out from behind the curtain, wearing a borrowed dress that needed a sash to cinch the waist. She was leaning on the wall, a content smile on her gorgeous face as she watched him. Rusl came back in with Regis and they were both forced to sit down and drink another health potion, Rusl making a face at the awful taste, especially compared to the bliss of the apple pie he’d had earlier.

He looked over to see Potsy filling a frankly enorams bag with what looked like rations. Potsy noticed him and gave him a sloppy salute with a gap toothed grin. 

“Almost done and you can go and get those banana smelling sons of Ganon, Cap’n!”

Abel looked at him in disbelief, how did they know? His eyes narrowed and he looked around until he spotted Rusl bu Obaleen, laughing about something as they folded clothing that looked to be suspiciously his size. He pinched his nose at the lack of secrecy, but let it lay, what’s done is done he supposed.

After that it was a whirlwind of preparation and dragging Tilieth behind the curtain for stolen kisses before they were weighed down with a pack that looked normal on Fierce’s broad back. All the men wishing them well and telling him they’d get the word out about the Yiga’s latest plot and a group of boys. Abel almost teared up turning away from the warmth of the stable towards the cold of braving a new dawn. But he squared his shoulders, patted Tilieth’s leg against Ama, and weighed down with the kindness of men he hadn’t seen in a decade, they set out towards Kakariko.

Happy Birthday @skyloftian-nutcase I hope you have a wonderful day and that you enjoy Abel getting the closest thing to a break he can!

[smilesrobotlover]

I felt compelled to bother you but I wasn’t sure how so I just thought of the dads switcheroo plot and how long do you think it would take for Ammon and Tilieth to work out they’re from different timelines lol

I imagine Ammon might come up with the idea first since he’s seen it firsthand with Terrako and the Champions. Tilieth is willing to believe just about anything so she’d probably go along with it.

Anyway, you having fun with whumptober prompts?

Heyyyy :DD

And idk. I think Ammon would def understand SOMETHING timeline wise cuz he did see people from the downfall timeline. But he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that there’s two different kinds of Links? With different parents? That’s bizarre. Cuz the Link from the downfall timeline was the same as his Link, but that’s not exactly the same case here. But when he learns of Link and of the calamity, he’ll def have the idea of different timelines.

I think Ammon and Tillieth would get along great 😅

And ye! Im just kinda struggling with writing everything but I have a lot of ideas and stuff! Im having fun making memes so XD

[luinhealthcare]

So, I just saw that in Healthcare AU Wild’s family are still alive and I was immediately like, “ooooh, is that Abel and Tilieth??” And now I’m super curious if they’re gonna show up in this AU too, because I love them. XD < 3

They might! I’ve considered it for sure :) I wonder what their lives would be like in a modern AU? 🤔

[skyloftian-nutcase]

*puts on fairy lights and turns everything else off*

*Fierce is already settled with @silvercaptain24 in a blanket nest*

*HC Wolfie wags his tail invitingly at @callmeshinso and @nancyheart11*

*Wild stretches and pats the warm blankets and pillows beside him invitingly at @cloud-anon*

*Abel is snoring and holding onto Link, but there’s just enough space between him and Tilieth for @anadorablekiwi to slip in*

*I’m burrowing around trying to find the blorbos I’m gonna write next, but I pause to glance at @luckybyrdrobyn* Come join wherever you please :)

Also I have hot chocolate or tea for anyone who wants some

@ghosty-crow @someluwritingghost @telemna-hyelle care to join?

Cuddle pile with blankets and pillows and soft lights??

@silvercaptain24 @cloud-anon @anadorablekiwi @skyloftian-nutcase

[skyloftian-nutcase]

ABEL FINALLY GETS A HUG

BREAKING NEWS: I commissioned @l3ominor and she opted to draw Abel finally getting a freaking break and I love her for it

LOOK AT THEM IT’S TIL AND ABEL

DODUQKQOWHRFHSKAOQHVWFKFI THIS BRINGS ME SO MUCH JOY

GO SEND L3o SOME LOVE ❤️❤️❤️

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The evening brought a chill as Abel held Link closer. Tilieth was working on cooking dinner for the family, and they were in an area he had just cleared of monsters, so he knew they would be safe for now. It left him time to just hold his son, to look him over and be content in the moment.

Considering such moments came so rarely, he would take what he could of it.

It hadn't even been a hard day. Aside from the skirmish with the beasts, they'd found nearly half a dozen shrines, and they'd all been simple puzzles. No strenuous climbing, no catapults, no endless pits... and at the end of it all, Link's wounds had improved greatly with each spirit orb they found.

And now, Tilieth hummed off tune as usual, bringing a smile to Abel's lips as he gazed at his boy. Link looked serene, resting comfortably on his father's lap, and he turned his head slightly to snuggle in closer. Abel felt his heart speed up a little at the sight of it, considering the boy was usually not reactive at all. Were the spirit orbs really helping that much?

Link sighed steadily through his nose, and then his eyes fluttered open.

Abel jumped a little, reaching for some broth they had set aside for the next time the boy woke. He sat Link up a little, whispering, "Hey, little knight. Time for some food, okay? Can you stay awake?"

Link kept his eyes open, drinking the offered broth as Abel tipped the bottle back for him. The boy had been far more interactive lately, though still clearly not really lucid. At least the fear of him dying of dehydration or starvation was greatly lessened than it used to be.

Link hummed when he was finished, leaning against his father's shoulder and smiling. Abel stared at him, blinking, completely caught off guard. Slowly, he put the bottle down and poked the boy's chest. Link scrunched his nose in response.

Could he be...? "...Link?"

He looked at him.

His boy was looking at him.

Abel stared into the teenager's blue eyes, breathless, his own eyes blown wide. Link blinked blearily, tired, but smiled a little more. "Hi, Papa."

Tilieth's humming stopped immediately, and the sound of a ladel clattering to the ground came next as she rushed over. "Link?!"

Their son turned his head to look at his mother as she fell to her knees beside him.

"Link!" she sobbed, holding him as Abel continued to stare in shock. He--he was--

"Oh, honey," Tilieth cooed, rocking him and holding and probably never ever letting go again. "Honey, you're okay, you're awake!"

"Mama," Link muttered into her collarbone. "You're squishing me."

Tilieth laughed. "That's all you have to say at a time like this?! You silly little goose, do you--"

His wife sobered for a moment, and continued hesitantly, "D-do you remember anything?"

Link watched her curiously, face still bright and open, as if he had no recollection of the Calamity whatsoever.

He doesn't remember it.

Abel came back to life, eyes stinging, hiccups tearing out of him. Link immediately looked at him, wiggling out of his mother's grip. "Papa?"

Abel's lip wobbled, and Link scooted back to his lap, letting his father practically collapse on him. "I missed you, son."

Link stiffened a little before returning the hug in full. "It wasn't your fault, Papa."

Abel jolted. "I--what--"

"It wasn't your fault," his son repeated, emphasizing his words and holding him tighter. "I love you, Papa. I love you so much."

Try as he might, Abel couldn't stop the tears. Something about the boy's words and tone, the fact that he was awake--everything poured out of him at once, sorrowful and joyful and beautiful, and he held his boy so tightly.

"I love you too, little knight."

Link held tighter. And tighter. And tighter until it felt like he was squeezing the life out of him, like he was trapped, and--

Abel opened his eyes, tangled in blankets, hearing Tilieth snoring beside him. Breath tickled his neck, and he looked down to see Link, pale, frail, and injured, sleeping between the parents.

The former knight poked the boy. He didn't stir.

Sighing, Abel wiped away the tears that had somehow managed to fall despite just dreaming, and went back to sleep.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

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

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

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

Chapter 15: Fallen Knight - The Chase

Tilieth knew Abel didn’t really pray anymore.

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

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

Tilieth was always sad to see it.

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

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

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

What are you doing, Abel?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There could be guardians!

But Abel was there.

There could be monsters!

But Abel was there.

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

She should wait for him to return.

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

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

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

I can do this. Abel needs me.

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

And then she saw them.

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

When… what?

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

Heavy breaths, screaming, sobs.

Worried voices, warmth, softness.

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

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

Good heavens, why did her head hurt so much?

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

Outside. She’d been outside, right?

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

Why had she been outside?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then why was he…?

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

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

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

Been outside too. They’d both been—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M-my… my word?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your word,” Sir Abel growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XXX

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

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

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

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

An empty bed.

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

And then she remembered last night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tilieth stared. He… he what?

He left?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Abel—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lady Impa sighed heavily.

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

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

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

Please be okay, Abel. Please be okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The castle?!

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

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

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

The pair disappeared in streams of light once more.

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

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

The beast fell in one blow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had to reach him.

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

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

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

She couldn’t get to him.

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

It was a Hylian.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was—but Tilieth—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her injury had been from… him? How?!

What had happened?!

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

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

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

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

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

But that life was already on the line.

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

And she rushed for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Ooo this is fun, thank you Ketto! :D I did not read the instructions right the first time lol, let’s see if I can post this correctly.

Elastic Heart

Warriors spat out blood.

The plan was going well. They’d found a monster encampment, much to their relief as they’d been tracking the pack for at least two days. Warriors had come up with a quick strategy, and then they’d engaged.

.

Blood of the Hero

It was a quiet morning as Tilieth wandered the plateau. She made her usual pilgrimage to the Temple of Time to pray at the statue for protection over her family and the princess. Her husband, Abel, had already gone hunting and foraging for the day.

As she knelt in front of the statue, her mind wandered to her son, who lay sleeping several hundred feet north in the stony fortress that locked him away from her and the rest of Hyrule.

.

The Caregiver

Dusk usually soured Twilight's mood, but today it was the rain. Or the walking. Or the constant fighting they'd been doing recently. He wasn't sure. Maybe it was none of those things.

Some days just weren't good days.

.

Winter’s Bite

It was a dreary day. The blissful break in winter from yesterday, filled with sunshine and gentle breezes and warmer temperatures, had been harshly shoved aside for a return of ice and bitterly cold rain. Rusl found himself wanting to lay in bed - Hana was getting better at sleeping through the night, but there were still interruptions, and between his broken up rest from the last few months and the abysmal lighting he was set to sleep all morning.

.

Breath of the Sky

Where could he be? Where could he be?!

Zelda searched the mining facility frantically. Timeshift stones were going haywire, widening their effects and then dissipating at erratic measures.

.

A Night to Forget

A strong smell of iron permeated the air at the end of the fight. It had been an ambush targeted specifically at Link and his young companion, but despite being outnumbered their battle prowess served them well.

Not to mention help from a certain cursed mask.

.

For a Better Tomorrow

It should have been a killing blow.

She knew that. She knew that.

This should have ended today.

It should have been a killing blow.

.

Snow

Snow was supposed to be white.

That was the first and only thought that was shrieking in Warriors' mind.

.

Numb

Twilight was improving.

It had been a long road. The Ordonian had spent nearly a week trapped at the inn, exhausted and steadily trying to get his strength back.

.

Secrets of the Shadows

Ordon Village hummed with the song of crickets as the night sky cooled the earth. Rusl paced through the small rural settlement, ill at ease. Link had left the village two days ago with no notice whatsoever.

.

Ten stories is a lot, wow 😂 feel free to do less than that if you want to! Or none at all, totally up to you :)

@ajscico @skyward-floored @silvercaptain24 @smilesrobotlover @triforce-of-mischief @gemglyph @socialc1imb @wolfwarden

First Line Tag Game - Tagged by @zartophski

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

10. From the Elements We Came, To the Elements We Return: Earth was the first to be returned, just as it had been the first to be found.

9. I Want to Resurrect Whoever Made This Dungeon So I Can Kill Them Myself: "Is this normal for dungeons?"

8. Four's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day: Today was supposed to be a simple, uneventful day.

7. The Full-Metal Hero: To say that the chain had no idea where they were was an understatement.

6. We'll Make a Pirate Out of You Yet: Twelve bottles stand evenly spaced out on a fence post.

5. Beware the Jesters of Nightmare: "Beware the Jesters of Nightmare."

4. A Talk in the Border Between Worlds: Vegeta wasn’t too sure what had just happened.

3. The Claaaw: “Come on Legend!”

2. A Day with Our Daughters: "Come on now?"

1, We Shall Rise Again: Imagine the seedier sort of "gentlemen's" club, where men--who are no gentlemen but like to consider themselves a cut above the rabble--meet to discuss the deeds that make them no gentlemen.

No pressure tags (sorry if you've been tagged already for this game): @gpow13 @nowhere-to-go-but-down @jeru-skyrider @mlnovaoff @lessinkmoregraphite @Nebulapaws @wayward-lotus @floor-tiles @telemna-hyelle @rijurambles

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 17 (Link’s parent play botw)

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

AO3 link

Chapter 17: The Mighty Gerudo - The Outskirts

Noise and cold. The world was nothing but that.

Ashen, crimson, poisoned fumes, tearing the sky apart.

But warmth, gold, light.

Love, memory, courage.

Energy, magic, power.

Discipline, studies, wisdom.

Time sped. Time slowed. All that was known was time passed.

Teeth bit. Gold didn’t yield.

All that mattered was to hold the line. All that mattered was—

Destruction. Damage. Alarms. Shrine.

Link.

XXX

The night was unseasonably cold. Impa looked out at the moon, hugging herself anxiously.

A flicker of light caught her eye, and she tried to follow it. An ember, perhaps. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was the woman before her, preparing for her journey.

Sheik looked back at her from the bottom of the stairs.

“May Hylia watch over you on your pilgrimage,” Impa said, voice heavy. “May Farore give you courage to endure the trials ahead. May Din give you the power to survive to the end. May Nayru give you the wisdom to see the true path ahead.”

Sheik bowed a little, closing her eyes, and turned to leave. They both knew she wouldn’t be coming back.

“You should see him,” Impa said, her voice barely carrying in the air.

Sheik paused in her gait, considering it, and then moved ahead resolutely.

XXX

Kakariko Village slowly came to life as the sun came up. The innkeeper, Liyah, looked after her one charge, having been tasked with the objective earlier by Tilieth. The mother had wanted to surprise her husband with a tunic she had finished in the night, and Liyah had happily agreed to keep an eye on the Hero.

Liyah had watched Tilieth lead Sir Abel out of the village entirely, and she had smiled knowingly. While the couple was gone, Lady Impa organized for the village to gather provisions for the family.

They all knew their stay was coming to an end.

A short distance from the village, near Lake Siela, Abel and Tilieth enjoyed some time together, but their journey loomed over them as the moment ended. Abel shifted a little, letting Tilieth hold him, keeping each other warm from the chill of the morning air. His new tunic was far thicker than his threadbare one he’d been wearing out over the past decade, and though he knew he didn’t deserve such a gift, he treasured it dearly.

But as he looked down at his wife, kissing her neck, he realized she was still wearing the same fabricated green tunic she had fashioned out of her dress.

Tilieth hummed, opening her brown eyes as she traced her hands up and down along his back and chest. “It fits you well. You look great.”

“You seem to think so,” he replied with a sly smirk.

Tilieth chuckled heartily in reply, and the two exchanged a kiss before pulling apart. Abel added, “But what about you? You made something for me and Link.”

“I’ll see if I can get more materials today,” Tlieth replied with a smile, unperturbed. The couple rose and started to make their way down to the lake to clean up.

Abel’s cheer diminished a little, though the euphoria of such activities with his wife still kept his spirits fairly high. “Til… love, we can’t stay there much longer. Both Link and I have rested. It’s time to go.”

Tilieth glanced at him with an unreadable look as they reached the water. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. But he did know that he wouldn’t try to leave again, even if a small voice in the back of his head still nagged about it. He’d promised himself and Tilieth that he’d try to at least trust his wife to stop him if he spiraled out of control like that again.

The mere thought of it terrified him. But he… he had to try. He knew he did.

“So…” Tilieth trailed off anxiously, not seeming to know how to continue.

Abel figured he knew what she was questioning. The last couple days had thrown everything off, and quite honestly they’d felt like a lifetime. But their original plan had been solid before Abel had ruined everything. “We’ll head to the desert, as you wished. And once we get there…”

“Abel, we—we can’t split up,” Tilieth argued immediately.

Abel sighed. He wasn’t going to argue the fact. “We’ll address it when we get there. That was the plan, anyway.”

Before Tilieth could protest further, assuming she was even going to, movement in the water caught Abel’s attention. He saw an octorok pop up, angry noise accompanying its disdain for any Hylian life around it, but before Abel could say or do anything, Tilieth had fired off an arrow, impaling the pesky creature.

Abel smiled at his wife, impressed. Although he had been the primary hunter and protector over the years, Tilieth had certainly gotten good with a bow. And goddess if she wasn’t especially attractive when she was using it.

Tilieth noticed his expression and giggled, poking him gently with a spare arrow. “Easy, love, we’ve already had all the fun we could. We need to get back to Link.”

Yes, they did. It was about damn time they kept trying to help their boy instead of letting Abel make things worse.

Abel and Tilieth bathed quickly, washing their clothes as they did so. Tilieth fiddled with the slate for a moment and then realized with excitement that a treasure chest was hidden in the water, yanking it out with the magnesis rune. Abel found he couldn’t be exasperated, but he was eerily reminded of her fishing a chest out near Proxim Bridge and all the chaos that had occurred as a result.

It was strange that those events were around a week ago. So much had happened in that time.

It turned out that, for once, Tilieth’s eye for finding random things was actually helpful. This chest contained arrows, and a good handful of them too.

Abel had to wonder where they’d come from.

As the couple passed the time quickly, Tilieth commented that she should bathe Link before they journey for the day, and Abel didn’t bother arguing about losing daylight. He’d hold his tongue for now. Tilieth was technically calling the shots.

At least as long as his sanity would allow it.

The couple made it back to the village by midmorning, and Link was already awake on their arrival.

Abel stared, surprised, before sitting his son up a little to feed him.

“He just woke up on his own,” the innkeeper noted. “So I started telling him everything that had been happening. He hasn’t spoken, though… or, really, even looked at me.”

“That’s normal, I’m afraid,” Tilieth answered to assure the woman. “Thank you for looking after him.”

As Abel helped Link drink some of the stew Tilieth had made for him, he wondered about the route they would take to get to the desert. He remembered that they’d already realized the easiest and safest option would be to retrace their steps and go by the Great Plateau once more. Gerudo Desert would only be a few days away after that.

A week, perhaps, in total. Assuming everything went well.

Link blinked, eyes flickering one way and then another. Abel lowered the now empty bottle a little, leaning in, watching his boy’s gaze. It was erratic, but goddess it almost seemed like he was searching for something.

“Link…?” he whispered quietly, breath frozen in his chest.

Link wrinkled his nose.

And then he sneezed, making Abel jump and almost drop the teenager. The boy flopped against him, eyes still open but far duller. Tilieth laughed.

Abel rolled his eyes. Honestly, that almost felt on purpose. “Yes, yes, very funny.”

Despite his exasperation, he couldn’t help but smile, even chuckle along with his wife. Hylia, Link had come a long way from the purely comatose, bleeding mess they had rescued from the Shrine. It really did feel miraculous.

Abel swallowed, glancing out the window to see the Hylia statue. He still felt angry, but… he didn’t know. He just didn’t know. At this rate, he wasn’t worthy to pray to her anyway. But he did, briefly, offer up a hesitant thanks.

“Okay,” Tilieth chirped happily, clapping her hands. “I’ll carry him up to the bathing hole and you can gather our things and pack the horses for travel?”

Abel nodded, helping her secure Link into the harness on her back. Then he looked around the inn, suddenly feeling overwhelmed as his wife stepped outside.

“I can help,” the innkeeper offered with a kind smile.

Abel felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. This was silly. He was more than capable of doing this. He just was… anxious after the events of the last couple days. He started to collect things and put them away, letting the innkeeper assist, and he murmured a quiet thank you as he stepped outside.

Lady Impa met him at the stable, bearing a small bag. “My people have supplies for you all. I packed them in here. Would you like them with Epona or Ama?”

“Epona, please,” he answered automatically, a little touched by the gesture. He felt overwhelmed again, and also guilty. Despite his lack of trust in these people, they were doing what they could to help. He remembered Impa’s words from yesterday, of the scars from the Calamity, of a possibility to heal. He sighed. “I… appreciate your help. All of you.”

“I know,” Lady Impa answered simply. “We’ll see you two off. May Hylia watch over you.”

Abel bowed his head slightly in respect, watching Impa walk back down the path. He then grabbed the bandana Tilieth had found in one of the shrines, smiling down at it. His wife had even ensured the tunic she’d made for her husband matched the shades of red on the bandana. He had to admire the handiwork and the loving dedication. It was a near insult to his wife’s talent to wear his threadbare trousers with the ensemble, but he had little choice in the matter. At least Link had managed to get entirely new clothes, though his own Hylian designed tunic was green in its primary color, unlike Abel’s red.

Honestly, Kakariko had been far more healing for his wife and son than he’d realized. It certainly hadn’t been great for him, but…well, nothing was really great for him these days.

Rest, he reminded himself. I have to try to rest.

It would certainly be an interesting endeavor once they hit the road. But he would try. He knew sleeping in shrines was safe, at least.

Tilieth came back fairly quickly with food in her hands. Abel was surprised she’d found time to cook, but she said, “The villagers made this for us! They even packed extra food.”

Abel took the food with a small smile. It… felt nice to be supported.

The villagers lined the path as the couple mounted their horses, Link carefully held in Abel’s secure grip as he guided Ama first. They laid out blue nightshade on the ground as the couple passed, bidding their blessings.

This felt… kind but also unnervingly final, like being in an army marching to war. Abel tried not to worry excessively about it.

As the couple entered the canyon leading out of the village, a strange spark caught Abel’s attention. He tried to trace it in the air, having definitely seen it, but it was blown away in the wind.

Shaking his head, he guided Ama to continue onward. He wanted to cover as much ground as possible – if they moved steadily at a good trot, they could make it to the stable ruins by midafternoon. Then they could let the horses rest, eat something quickly, and make haste to Proxim Bridge. They could likely get close to the Great Plateau by nightfall since they weren’t actively seeking shrines anymore in this area.

Tilieth seemed just as focused as Abel, renewed in strength and determination after their stay in the village. The couple moved swiftly and quietly along the old path, Link bouncing gently against Abel’s chest.

Abel’s estimate turned out correct as the skeletal outline of the Dueling Peaks Stable jutted into the scenery while the sun hung high in the sky. When they reached the river, Tilieth waved cheerily at the family that was trying to maintain what was left of the place. Abel glanced around, old anxieties returning as he saw a couple of people also resting there, but he tried not to be too reactive.

He still pulled Link closer to him, though.

The stablewoman greeted them with a smile. “You’re back! Is your boy any better? He looks a little less pale!”

He… he does? Abel glanced down to see Link awake, eyes passively staring ahead, and it made the man jump a little. When had the boy woken up? They’d fed him breakfast, right? He scrambled to remember, but it seemed it didn’t really take much to rouse the teenager anymore.

He had to almost laugh at it, at the miracle in his arms. He really did almost say a prayer in thanks in that moment.

Tilieth happily slid off her saddle, proudly motioning to Link and Abel. “Yes, they’re both doing better.”

Abel felt his heart warm a little bit, and he finally did chuckle, the sound a little heavy as his throat tightened with emotions.

He didn’t deserve any of his family, really. But he kissed Link’s ear, and the boy sniffled, nose crinkling a little. Abel watched him, whispering his name, the faintest trace of hope twisting in his heart like a silk thread, but Link didn’t react to it.

He tried not to be too disappointed. After all, progress was still progress.

They really needed to find some more shrines. It was too bad they had to retrace their steps. Perhaps they’d find some they missed.

Belatedly, he remembered just how irritating that slate’s tracker was, though. Abel sighed.

A heavy rain started, and the family took shelter in what little covering the demolished stable could provide. The stableman was snoozing, likely having stayed up all night to keep watch, and the stablewoman’s daughter watched Link curiously.

“What’s he looking at?” she asked, and Abel noticed Link was miraculously still awake.

“He… likes to daydream a bit,” Tilieth supplied, brushing damp hair out of Link’s face.

Abel watched his son while Tilieth unpacked some food, but she promised Link she’d tell him all about the last few days when they reached their resting spot for the night. It made Abel pause, and he truly wondered if their son could hear anything at all in his strange magic-induced haze.

For a moment, his heart skipped a beat as his mind whispered that perhaps their son would never be lucid again. Perhaps the shrine would simply bring back a husk of his child, a shadow of the sweet, determined warrior that he used to be. Perhaps his wounds would heal but his mind and heart would not.

Abel bit his tongue, looking away. He refused to indulge in such thoughts. He refused.

Their lunch was brief as the rain let up rather quickly, and Abel was growing restless. The stablewoman and her family were harmless, but he didn’t know the other two Hylians who were there, and they were eying his son far too much.

Tilieth picked up on Abel’s anxiety, and she packed up quietly. Their horses had at least been given enough time to rest that Abel felt confident they could carry them at a steady pace without it being too problematic.

“Oh, you can stay longer if you need to,” the stablewoman noted as they rose and headed for their steeds.

“We’ll be alright, thank you,” Tilieth said with a reassuring smile. “We need to keep moving.”

“You really should stay,” one of the strangers called. “This place is safer than most, especially if your kid’s hurt.”

Abel stiffened a little, Link held carefully in his arms.

“’Sides, there’s a couple villages close by,” the stranger added. “Kakariko Village ain’t too friendly from what I’ve heard, but the other one, Hateno, is starting to grow some crops, so you might be able to get some food there.”

“Hateno doesn’t welcome guests, and the Sheikah are kind of creepy,” the other stranger noted, waving a hand. “Look, if you’re needing a place to stay, your best bet is stables like this.”

Hateno is starting to grow crops? Abel glanced at Tilieth a moment, heart heavy at the implications. She never spoke of how bad it had been in the village, only that a guardian had gotten too close. Obviously he… he’d known the village had been destroyed, given that Tilieth’s father and Lyra…

Tilieth’s words grew quieter, and she struggled to reply at all, so Abel stepped up for her. “We’ll be fine.”

The couple went to their horses and left.

Tilieth’s head hung as they moved side by side, and Abel occasionally glanced at her, trying to think of what they could discuss to distract her. He smiled a little, saying, “This new tunic is great for the chill, love. Thank you again for making it. I’m sure Link appreciates it too.”

It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t shivering like he would on and off when it drizzled. The layers were certainly helpful. If only Abel knew how to work leather, he could make a pauldron and chest guard, at least for Link if not for both of them, or even Tilieth as well. But sadly, the main work he could do with his hands had to do with fighting.

It was what he’d been trained for his entire life, after all.

Tilieth smiled a little, glancing at him out of the side of her eye, but she didn’t quite seem fully cheered up. As Abel scrambled to figure out what else to say (he really wasn’t good at using his words to help in matters), Tilieth sighed. “It’s okay, Abel. I… I know that I… can’t keep running from what happened.”

Abel stiffened a little. “Til, we don’t have to talk about what happened.”

“Avoiding it led to…” Tilieth trailed off, looking away, and Abel felt guilt crush him into the saddle. His wife took a steadying breath and she looked ahead once more, sitting up a little. “I… I have to face it eventually. But… it’s good to hear things are growing there again.”

He didn’t push. Her discussing this was more than she’d ever done willingly. Instead, he just watched her silently before looking at the trail ahead.

There was someone ahead, laying across the road. Abel stiffened immediately, pulling back on the reins, and Tilieth gasped as she noticed them too. She guided Epona ahead, though, despite Abel calling after her.

Biting back frustration, he goaded Ama to trot, catching up to his wife as she worriedly leapt off to check on the stranger.

“Are you okay?” Tilieth asked, shaking the person. “Abel, they’re freezing—”

“They’re dead,” Abel said abruptly, noticing the dried blood, the stripped bag, the stillness of the person’s back, the mottling of their fingers, and—

Leaves rustled, and Abel drew his sword in an instant, pushing Ama forward so she slammed into whatever was moving. His horse whinnied in protest, anxious and shifting backwards, nearly bucking Abel and Link off the saddle, but the bandit she’d just hit was on the ground, drawn sword knocked out of her hand.

The sword had dried blood on it.

Abel called to Tilieth, who rushed over to grab Link as he jumped off the saddle. “Ride ahead, get him out of here! I’ll catch up!”

Thankfully, she didn’t argue. Tilieth grunted a little as she struggled to hold Link tightly before pushing Ama into a near canter, leaving Abel, Epona, and the bandit behind.

The woman grunted, clearly injured from Ama’s assault, but she tried to push herself to stand. Abel raised his blade, ready to finish her off.

This isn’t right. She’s been incapacitated.

Since when did that matter?

Abel held his blade high, ready to strike. It would be quick and clean.

Do you really want to murder someone else?

This wasn’t murder, she’d killed this person!

You don’t know that.

Abel bit his lip, slowly lowering his blade. He didn’t like this. But he’d give her one chance.

Just one.

He wouldn’t exactly make it easy for her, though.

Instead of cutting off her head, Abel aimed for her sword hand. Her screams barely registered, but he felt his stomach knot nonetheless.

It’s safer this way, he reasoned. It was strange that it bothered him now, when the other day…

He hated that any of this was necessary. Ten years ago, he’d be defending…

He’d be defending the dead man on the road, not the woman who had killed him.

But ten years ago, she probably wouldn’t have needed to be a bandit.

The world rocked a little, and Abel blinked, confused. That… what had…?

The ground shook again, alongside the sound of thunder. Abel looked up, but the sky was only a little overcast.

Then he heard a squeal, a bokoblin shrieking up ahead.

Up ahead.

“Tilieth!” he called, leaping up onto Epona and making her rush forward at a full gallop. By the time he reached his wife, though, she was glaring at a pile of rubble and a few bits of dark magic trailing up into the sky. “What happened?!”

Tilieth yelped, turning to look at him and sighing in relief. Link was held against her with her arms while her hands clung to the Sheikah Slate with a white knuckled grip. “Oh! Abel, there were some bokoblins! I… well, the bomb rune comes in handy, there was no way I could use my bow while holding Link.”

Abel blinked, staring at the wreckage, and then he laughed. “You’re almost as much of a menace with that thing as he would be.”

Tilieth stared at him a moment before giggling, and Abel beamed at her with pride. The two moved ahead, crossing Proxim Bridge together. By the time they reached the shrine on the other side and the ruins of the outpost near the Great Plateau, the sun was disappearing behind the stone walls that had protected them for the last decade.

It felt strange, being back here. Not much time had honestly passed—a week or so, maybe?—but the difference was obvious. Link was awake, having likely been startled by the sounds of the bombs, and there was no longer fear that he would die from thirst or hunger. The couple had two horses now, and their son was sporting a fresh, clean, and new outfit while Abel wore a new tunic and the bandana Tilieth had acquired.

Honestly, the only one who still looked fresh from the ragged survival of the plateau was Tilieth. Abel felt a little guilty for it. He wished he could make clothes as she could, but the best he knew was mending.

In either case, Abel was grateful when he could easily feed Link dinner, and the couple traveled into the shrine to find a safe place to rest. Abel was a little uneasy leaving the horses outside unattended when that bandit was half a day’s ride away, but he figured she was incapacitated enough.

Besides, he’d finish her off if she tried to follow them.

“It feels like we haven’t been to a shrine in ages,” Tilieth noted as the two laid out blankets.

Abel tried to ignore the fact that it was his fault they’d gotten sidetracked. Tilieth was just making an observation, after all. “I imagine we’ll find plenty on the way to the desert.”

Or at least I hope so.

XXX

Tilieth found that she felt much safer venturing outside alone as she was growing more comfortable using the Sheikah Slate. She could access its abilities far faster than taking aim and firing off her bow. While she’d had a decade to practice with it and was fairly proficient, the idea of using it against people still made her skin crawl.

But a refreshing bath in the morning made all those worries slip away, and thankfully, this time, there was no one else around. Their horses were grazing peacefully when she emerged from the shrine, and Epona trotted up to her welcomingly.

Tilieth smiled at the sunrise, at the promise of a new day, and she prayed it would be a good one. Link still needed healing, and Tilieth was looking forward to seeing him make progress. Despite her own worries, she was also very much looking forward to seeing the Gerudo Desert. She’d never traveled so far from Hateno in her life, and she’d always been curious about the place.

Besides, it promised safety, just as Kakariko did. And, as Abel had said last night, there had to be shrines nearby.

Hope blossomed in her chest. With Abel doing a little better and finally trusting her to help him, with Link being awake for nearly an hour at a time, it finally seemed like things were going the right way.

Tilieth hummed cheerily as she finished bathing and gathered supplies to warm some breakfast. When she reentered the shrine, she was relieved to see that Abel and Link were both still sleeping peacefully. She felt bad breaking the moment, but she also knew Abel would start unraveling if they took too long.

But heavens, it was good to see them resting.

It also gave her a moment to pause as she looked at the tunics she’d made for them, styled in Hateno’s traditional garb and colors, and she…

No. She shook her head. She… she couldn’t think about home. She couldn’t think about…

But how hypocritical was it of her, to insist that Abel rely on her with his struggles when she couldn’t handle her own, when he would go out of his way to help her avoid it?

She couldn’t exactly just be fine with everything, though. And there was nothing wrong with accepting help.

Except Abel had been breaking himself and denying his own pain to help her for the last ten years. He’d always been like that. It was where Link got it from. Both men were so self sacrificial Tilieth had to marvel how they had survived as long as they had.

Clearly, it was only through Hylia’s grace and protection.

Sighing, Tilieth gently woke her husband, who was surprisingly sluggish, making her feel a little guiltier about rousing him at all. Still, according to the slate it was nearly eight in the morning, which was several hours later than he and Link would usually get up.

Abel tried to say he would just eat on the road, but Tilieth insisted that Link couldn’t eat that way, forcing her husband to actually take his time. She could see how he struggled with it, but she appreciated that he was trying to listen to her.

It made her a little nervous too. She could handle caring for her family somewhere safe, but… well. It wasn’t like Abel wouldn’t immediately step up if there was danger, just as he had yesterday.

Tilieth shuddered thinking about the body on the road, about the person who had been hiding in the brush. Perhaps Abel’s lack of trust was warranted.

But it broke her heart, that her beautiful kingdom had fallen into such ruin that people were killing each other for survival. And she knew, deep down, it was breaking Abel’s heart too.

The family set out fairly quickly, passing through the outpost ruins, wandering by the chilling reminders of the guardians that had demolished it. Although some guardian husks were on the plateau, they were all centered around the Temple and the Abbey, and while Til would pray at the temple, she often avoided the front entrance like the plague to ensure she didn’t see those haunting monsters.

The Great Plateau loomed beside them as they reached the Gatepost Town ruins, and Tilieth was overcome with a strange longing and nostalgia. Having spent a decade up there, it… really had become home. She wished they could teleport up there without worrying about their horses; although their bed was barely better than the ground, it was still their bed.

But excitement started to outweigh her melancholy as they started to move beyond the plateau, beyond the ruins, and entered territory she’d never seen before.

Tilieth looked around eagerly, and her eyes caught movement quickly.

Was that… a paper windmill?

“Wait,” she said hastily, leaping off Epona, giggling as she suspected she might know what that was. She nearly missed a small pond with some ducks, and she hid behind some rocks to take aim, gasping in excitement as she caught sight of a treasure chest floating in the water as well. One shot killed one of the fowl, scaring the others off, and then the cryo rune allowed her to happily get to her treasure, which turned out to be an opal.

Abel watched her from atop Ama, hands resting on Link’s lap, reins loose in his fingers as he leaned over while Link snoozed. A gentle smile pulled at his face, and he asked, “Find anything useful?”

Tilieth waved the opal high in the air with a grin.

“Wonderful,” her husband chuckled. “We can club a bokoblin on the head with it.”

“We could trade it, you know!” Tilieth huffed. “I’m sure it would be useful in a land where rupees are fairly meaningless.”

Abel’s eyebrows twitched up in an concession, and then Tilieth rushed up the small hill to reach her original prize.

“What are you looking for now?” Abel called.

“Just a moment,” Til huffed as she scrambled to the top. The instant she touched the windmill, though, strange balloons appeared. They clearly had targets on them. Initially, Til just tried to throw rocks, but they hardly bounced against the balloons. Perhaps…?

Pulling her bow off her back, she took aim.

“Til?” Abel called worriedly.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “Just koroks.”

Abel’s voice grew even more baffled. “You’re shooting them??”

“Wha—no!” Til laughed, missing her target as she released her arrow. She groaned, exasperated – she already knew she didn’t need to waste supplies, but Abel would blow up if she spent too many arrows on this quest. “Just—just give me a minute!”

As she turned, tracing her moving targets, she could make out Abel’s exasperated expression in her peripheral vision. She ignored it, though she did gasp in alarm when her bow snapped after two arrows – she supposed it was shoddily made, but…

She could sense Abel’s eyes boring into her.

After three balloons, the korok finally showed itself with a cheer. Tilieth triumphantly slid down the rocky hill, korok seed in hand.

“Did you get it?” Abel asked dully, raising an eyebrow. “Perhaps it gave you the arrows back, and a fresh bow?”

“We have other bows,” Tilieth said dismissively, pocketing the item. “This’ll help us carry more in the long run!”

“Ah, yes, with Hestu’s maracas,” Abel noted, though his annoyance had shifted to bewilderment. Tilieth giggled at him.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” she remarked, climbing back onto Epona.

“Hard to forget such absurdities,” Abel sighed. “Or fantastical magic, I suppose.”

“You need to have a bit more sense of magic to you, love,” Tilieth said with a smile. “Accepting the world at face value is—”

“Pragmatic,” Abel finished. “And it’s what will keep us alive, Til. I’m not denying koroks and their magic exist, I’m not a fool, but… please, let’s not waste supplies.”

Tilieth sighed, conceding the point and letting her husband lead the way. Her mild disappointment ebbed away as they left the Great Plateau behind, entering a canyon. Off in the distance, she could make out ruddy, nearly square shaped mountains, and she stared at them in wonder.

The Gerudo Highlands. She could easily see them from their home atop the plateau, but she’d never gotten this close to them.

The Sheikah Slate chimed as they continued, making her jump, and she quickly pulled it out. As it guided her, she quickly realized that the horses would not be able to traverse the small mountain it was trying to guide her and Abel towards.

“There better not be a talus this time,” Abel muttered, dismounting and letting Tilieth help strap Link to his back.

She certainly hoped that wasn’t the case, either.

It began to rain as the two climbed, making the grass a little slippery, but the slate’s sensor maintained the course until they reached the peak. Tilieth looked around, squinting in the distance, seeing the silhouette of Hyrule castle, and she gasped a little.

There was a tower near the castle? How—surely there weren’t shrines—

Of course there had to be shrines there. They’d been trying to get to a shrine when Abel had originally realized they were heading into Central Hyrule a few days ago.

“Til, let’s keep going,” Abel noted. “Link’s shivering.”

Tilieth whirled around, surprised to see Link awake, muscles trembling, and she hastily led the way as a shrine came into view. Tilieth activated it with the slate and Link’s palm, and the family hastened indoors.

This new shrine was almost a relief to see, a familiar challenge to push through with little worry of threats and the promise of helping Link in a tangible way. Abel settled Link against the wall so the couple could figure out this new puzzle. It didn’t take long to realize they were trapped on one side of a barred wall.

Tilieth followed the color coding, recognizing that, for both the shrines and the towers, an amber glow indicated something wasn’t active. There were several small amber columns that were seemingly attached at strange angles. Curious, she drew her new bow and a fresh arrow.

The instant the arrow hit the column, half the wall rotated, and a door opened.

“They’re switches!” she noted.

Abel, growing familiar with these puzzles, grabbed the amber ball and picked it up, passing through the gate, but he quickly returned with it. “Given where it should go, I think it needs to be in that wall the switch is attached to. There are shapes that can carry it over.

It took a few tries, but after Tilieth reset the wall, Abel managed to toss the orb into the correct spot to send over the edge once the switch was reactivated. Tilieth gave a cheer as the ball entered the appropriate area, and then a stone column started to punch its way up and down from the floor.

“What is it with these shrines and heights?” Abel muttered uneasily.

Tilieth laughed. “I’ll handle it, love! Though it is strange that these places are meant to train the Hero and they’re like this. Did fighting Calamity Ganon mean getting thrown into the air a lot?”

“Perhaps,” Abel said as he traipsed through the water to recover the arrows Tilieth had used. “But you can’t carry Link and get tossed.”

“Oh, let’s just see first,” Tilieth argued lightly, moving the wall once more.

The wall closed directly in front of the column, blocking both of them from it. Tilieth blinked.

Abel bit back a snort. “Well. We saw. Perhaps you should actually make it accessible now?”

“Oh hush,” Tilieth grumbled, flicking him lightheartedly. “I didn’t anticipate the distance.”

“I noticed.”

When the wall moved again, this time with Tilieth behind it, she realized there was a problem.

“Any luck?” Abel called from the entrance.

“Well… it throws you into the ceiling,” Tilieth noted, staring at the course the column would send her. She’d slam her head right into the movable wall. Humming, she tried to look around for other clues or switches. Something had to change.

“Til,” Abel called. “I found something.”

Tilieth peered through the bars and gasped in delight. “Oh, a treasure chest! Look at you, exploring!”

“It has a key in it,” he pointed out, waving the item. “Might open the door the column is trying to toss you through.”

“Hand it through the bars, love!”

“No, wait, we just need to…”

Tilieth heard an arrow whistle through the air before the switch gave a soft sound and the entire wall moved again. She looked at Abel, bewildered, and then realized there had been no way to access the gate without moving the wall again.

The door opened, revealing Abel smiling at her, hands on his hips.

“Well, aren’t you proud of yourself?” she chuckled, walking towards him.

Abel’s smile immediately faded as he reached out, “Til, look out, you’re standing on—”

The rest of his statement was lost as Tilieth accidentally stepped right where the moving column was and it flung her into the air with a yelp. She tucked herself in so only her back slammed into the ceiling, and Abel hastily yanked her off when she landed mildly on the column once more.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

Tilieth groaned. She was fairly certain she was more embarrassed than in pain, but Hylia that hurt. “I… just need a minute.”

Abel’s hand settled on her lower back below where she was likely to end up with a bad bruise. He gently and carefully helped her sit up, and she hissed through the movement, but she gave a reassuring smile and a wink as she sat up a little.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned.

“Love, I’ve birthed two babies,” Tilieth finally said as the pain started to subside. “I can handle it.”

Abel had to laugh at that before saying, “Why don’t we let me handle the column?”

Tilieth wanted to argue, but honestly, her back argued a little more loudly. She nodded.

Abel reactivated the switch, moving the wall once more, and stepped into place. She watched him brace himself, and she felt her stomach twist with giddiness as he got flung into the air.

She didn’t care that her back hurt. She wanted to try it.’

“Any luck?” she called as she heard Abel deploy the paraglider.

Her husband was silent for a moment, moving around, and then he grumbled, “That damn monk is still out of reach.”

Tilieth furrowed her brow before walking onto the column, shouting to get Abel’s attention he yelped her name as she got leapt with the force of the column, laughing as Abel caught her.

“Hylia, Til!” Abel complained, face flushed. “You already got hurt, can’t you just—”

“Another chest!” Tilieth pointed. “Perhaps that has something that can help?”

Abel sighed heavily. Tilieth reached for the paraglider and happily skipped back to the column, gently gliding down until it threw her into the air once more. Her stomach lurched, but her heart skipped a beat in excitement, and she managed to make it to the chest. When she opened it, she felt mildly disappointed to find a sword, but she knew Abel would appreciate it.

“That’s a feathered edge blade,” Abel noted, eyes widening a little.

Tilieth stared at it. “I don’t see feathers.”

“It’s made by the Rito and has wind magic in it,” Abel explained. “We should keep that, it could be very useful.”

A magic sword? Wait, Tilieth was interested now. “How do you use the wind magic?”

“One thing at a time, Til, we need to get to that monk.”

Oh, right.

Tilieth looked around the room once more, and mumbled to herself. “I wonder…”

“Til?”

“Get off the wall, love,” Tilieth advised as she glided back over. “I have an idea.”

“Care to share it?” Abel asked as he complied.

Tilieth smiled cheekily.

As her husband moved aside, Tilieth made her way to the column once more. When it tossed her up, she aimed for the switch. Although she was a decent shot, she had little practice on doing such attacks, and she missed her target, gasping as she almost landed without using the paraglider. Abel tried to step forward to help her, but the column threw her into the air once more, and she tried again.

By the fourth toss, she was starting to get the hang of it, but she’d yet to hit the switch.

Didn’t Link used to do shots like this all the time? How did he do it?!

She marveled for a moment at her son’s abilities, and then squeaked in surprise when Abel caught her. He grabbed the bow and arrows out of her hands as they were thrown again, and she watched him narrow his eyes with focus before hitting the target.

The wall shifted, and they landed on a set of stairs leading to the monk.

The couple caught their breath for a second before Tilieth clapped her hands. “I knew it!”

The real conundrum, then, was that Tilieth would have to carry Link in midair while Abel hit the switch again. That made her nervous. She could carry Link, of course, but not with the extra force of gravity flinging him into her one way or the other.

“Use the paraglider,” Abel advised. “I’ll strap him on to you.”

“But what about you?” Tilieth asked worriedly.

“I’ll land fine,” he assured her.

And so the couple stood ready to go, Link strapped to his mother’s back, when the entire family was tossed up into the air. Abel fired twice to hit his target, and Tilieth glided down a little quicker than normal while her husband landed hard on his feet, dropping to his hands and knees.

“Abel?” she called, stumbling as her feet touched the stairs.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

“You don’t get to say that when you’re not,” Tilieth protested.

“You said it earlier.”

“I was right, though! Childbirth is far worse than smacking my back into a wall! You didn’t push two children out of you, you don’t have that excuse.”

Abel’s measured breaths turned to laughs. “Til, just get Link to the monk.”

“You’re making fun of me!” Tilieth grumbled, slowly walking towards the shrine’s protector.

As she watched Link flinch when the spirit orb hit him, Tilieth had to wonder how many of these they’d collected by now, and how many might be left. Her son still had a long way to go, she imagined it was quite a bit.

She hoped there were a lot on the way to the desert.

The family was teleported outside, and Abel sighed, rolling onto his back in the grass. Tilieth carefully lowered herself down to the ground beside him.

“Well, we’ll be a little bruised, but that wasn’t so bad,” she admitted cheerily.

“No, I suppose not,” Abel conceded. “But still—”

Her husband stopped abruptly, body freezing. Tilieth looked up to see if he’d seen something in the sky, but aside from the crimson sunset, she couldn’t tell what was wrong. “Abel—”

“Hush,” her husband hissed quickly, sitting up sharply. “Lay down. On your side.”

Tilieth complied quickly, muscles shaking with exertion as she still supported Link until they touched the ground. Abel crept forward, and Tilieth carefully unclipped the harness from her so she could crawl with him. As she moved stealthily, she realized what had caught his attention.

Monsters. She could hear them.

The couple peered over the cliffside to see another ruined stable, and it was overrun with beasts.

"Outskirt Stable,” Abel muttered, eyes narrowing.

Tilieth counted at least twenty beasts, bokoblins and moblins alike. There was no way they could fight so many, was there?

“Can’t we just avoid them?” she whispered.

“A horde that size? We’re lucky they didn’t detect us on the way in,” Abel replied. “But… perhaps we…”

A horn blared, and all the beasts jumped, alerted. Tilieth felt her body fill with ice as at least a dozen eyes met her own.

They’d been spotted.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 18 (Link's Parents Play BotW)

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

(AO3 link)

The Mighty Gerudo – The Call

Abel shoved her back, drawing his blade. “Get Link out of here!”

“But—”

“Now Tilieth!” He yelled, not bothering to check if she’d listened. It was an automatic reaction, being in command of soldiers, and he didn’t have time to consider the fact that Tilieth was not trained to obey without question.

The bokoblins moved faster, scrambling up the hillside towards Abel, but he had the advantage of the high ground, so he—

He watched as a bomb flew by his face and down the hill. It took him a second to register what had just happened, and he scrambled back as it exploded, knocking the beasts back down the hill. He turned sharply, snarling, “Til, I gave you an order!”

“I’m getting him, but you need help too!” Tilieth protested.

“Link’s more important!” Abel snapped. He did not need to be worrying about them while dealing with twenty monsters!

Tilieth hesitated another moment before finally listening, running towards Link. Abel whirled around as he heard the bokoblins making their way up the cliff once more. He grabbed a soldier’s bow and some fire arrows from the supply bag Tilieth had left. There was a bomb arrow in there too, but he’d save it.

The fire arrows successfully helped slow the beasts down, especially accommodating for missed shots as even a graze impacted them a lot. Eventually, though, he couldn’t keep all of them back at once, and he drew his sword and shield, falling back to the familiarity of battling with his most signature weapons.

He bashed a bokoblin away, finishing it off, just in time to whirl around and eviscerate another. By then, the four moblins of the horde arrived. Abel dove out of the way as one of them brought a massive club down with enough force to crush his skull, shaking the earth with the impact. He reoriented faster than the moblin could, giving him time to rush it and slash at its arm. The beast cried out in pain, releasing its club just in time for Abel to duck under its injured arm and jab into its gut. Unfortunately, these beasts had tougher skin than others, but it still successfully knocked it down, giving Abel an opening to slash away at it before he had to parry an attack from a boko.

The days of rest had helped. His body didn’t falter easily with each blow to his shield, with each cut from his blade.

Nevertheless, despite taking down six or seven already, that still left over ten beasts.

Abel gritted his teeth as he finally received his first hit, a boko bat smashing into his right shoulder. His arm seized up a second, nearly dropping his sword, and he used the momentum from the hit to pivot onto his other foot and give a large horizontal slash to create some distance. He managed to at least hit one of the monsters with it as well.

And then he heard giggling.

Bokos didn’t giggle. Moblins didn’t either.

Eyes widening, he turned, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise as a fire blast came his way.

A damn wizzrobe?! On top of everything else? Of course this would happen!

Thankfully, he had an idea. Tilieth’s adventure pouch was still strapped securely to his belt, and he dug into it, finding the item in question. When the arrow made contact with his hand, he instantly felt its cooling effect.

He only had three, so he had to aim true. And not get hit by the others.

Something rolled by him, a glowing blue orb, and—

And Abel quickly realized what it was and yelped, jumping away as it exploded. A couple bokoblins went flying, but the wizzrobe simply disappeared. Abel immediately looked back at the shrine to see Tilieth standing at its entrance with the slate in her hands.

“What are you doing?!” He yelled.

“Helping!” Tilieth shouted back. “We fought beasts outside the Great Plateau our first day down here, I can help, you know that! I just—”

“Less talking, more listening!” Abel interrupted as he blocked an attack with his shield. “I don’t need you blowing me up! The more you fight the more they’ll go to you, so use bombs to keep them away from the shrine! If it gets overwhelming, retreat!”

He turned to face the wizzrobe fully now, ignoring whatever response his wife had. Yes, he’d fought alongside her before, but those were surprise attacks with nowhere to go and only a handful of beasts. This was different.

Abel drew his bow back, trying to keep alert of his immediate surroundings as he walked to parallel the wizzrobe’s movements, and he released the ice arrow.

The wizzrobe hissed as the arrow impacted it directly in the chest, and it disappeared in a mist of magic, the air waving briefly with the steam it left behind. Abel felt a thrill of adrenaline and satisfaction mix, making him bare his teeth in a feral grin as he gave a battle cry and bashed a bokoblin away. He heard another bomb explode and assessed the situation quickly.

Ten down, ten to go, including three moblins.

Now this was more reasonable.

“Abel, look out!”

Abel whirled, eyes searching hastily for whatever Tilieth was trying to point out as he dodged blindly. A giant blast of wind smacked him in the side, sending him reeling off the cliff alongside two bokoblins and a moblin.

What was that?!

Abel scrambled to his feet, hastily killing the two bokoblins. The moblin swung horizontally at him, and he leapt backwards to dodge. The moblin was ready with a counterstrike, and Abel hastily braced himself with both arms behind his shield as he was pushed back several feet without moving his posture. The beast roared in protest at his stubbornness.

He heard another bomb explode up above, and he took a breath, rushing ahead to finish off the moblin so he could get back to Tilieth.

His sword, however, sheared as he hit a finishing blow, falling apart into three pieces, the rust having finally reached its breaking point. Abel quickly switched weapons, grabbing whatever he could reach next. His right hand wrapped around a hilt, and he yanked it out, surprised at how long the blasted thing was as he kept pulling while he was rushing up the cliff, hopping around debris from the destroyed stable.

When he reached the top, Tilieth was gone. Panic seized his heart, but he knew better than to freeze in battle. The blade in his hands, a Sheikah blade, was surprisingly light given its size, but he held with two hands nonetheless, and one sweep took out the remaining bokoblins, leaving a moblin, which he dispatched quickly.

Tilieth reappeared at the shrine entrance, eyes fierce, hair disheveled, a wild sort of tenacity and terror pushing her forward as she sloppily readied herself to swing the feathered edge sword that she’d retrieved from the shrine.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Abel and realized the fight was over. Dropping the sword, she ran to him. “Abel! Abel, honey I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to knock you off the cliff, are you okay—”

Abel met her halfway, pulling her into a tight hug. She was fine. Tilieth and Link were fine. “I’m okay.”

He did wince a little as Tilieth tightened the hug, though. His wife immediately picked up on it. “You’re hurt—”

“It’s okay,” Abel assured her.

“No, it’s not,” Tilieth insisted. “It’s dusk, don’t try to push beyond this, you can rest. We can go back in the shrine, and I can see if there’s anything salvageable in the monster camp.”

Abel opened his mouth to argue but found that he couldn’t. It was a rational plan. So instead he sighed and complied, letting his wife guide him into the shrine. Link was waiting for him down below, resting with his head on a makeshift pillow.

Abel did reject Tilieth’s offer for an elixir, though, stating that they needed to save those for real emergencies. He would feel better with some rest. Laying down beside Link, he closed his eyes, letting the adrenaline drain out of his system and ignoring the throbbing in his arm.

XXX

The moon was nearly full as it shone on the land below. Speckles of snow reflected its bright splendor back to the sky along the highlands, nearly matching the twinkling stars. A voice carried along the wind, a whisper that could have been rustling in the leaves. It passed between twigs and brambles, amidst ruins and beasts, bouncing along lapping waters as it warmed in the night air.

Brightness illuminated Hyrule. The sky seemed to sparkle. The voice grew quiet, and the moon grew dim.

But one ear twitched in response. One face scrunched, one heart beat a little faster.

And then there was silence.

XXX

The morning certainly started eventfully.

As the family rode towards the canyon that fed into the desert, it didn’t take long for the Sheikah Slate to start chirping excitedly over a nearby shrine, encouraging Tilieth to urge Epona into a gallop as she and Abel ran across the bridge. Abel moved ahead of her to eliminate some moblins blocking their path, and they hurried along.

Until they reached the center area that linked the bridges together.

Abel pulled back harshly on Ama’s reins, making Tilieth and Epona nearly crash into them. Epona whinnied in protest, and Tilieth was jostled in her saddled as she yelped.

“Abel, what’s wrong?”

Abel was stiff and silent, watching intently ahead. “You’ll have to take Link. There’s a Hinox up ahead.”

Tilieth drew in a sharp breath. She knew her husband could handle such a beast, but there were so many more factors now than the last time he’d—

Goddess, the last time he’d fought one was what had started this all. Tilieth didn’t know how to feel about that, but she watched Abel worriedly.

Her husband turned Ama carefully to get her lined up with Epona, and he started to move Link towards her. Tilieth quickly reached out to take him, hushing Link as his eyes opened from the jostling. Before she could say a word, Abel was dashing ahead on his steed, leaving her clutching their son tightly.

Abel and Ama reached the Hinox quickly, and his large Sheikah blade immediately dug into the beast’s legs. It awoke with a rumbling roar, shaking the earth as it moved, and Tilieth watched her husband outmaneuver it, slashing again and again. It went down to its knees quickly, but it raised a fist large enough to smash both Abel and his horse, and Tilieth felt her entire body seize.

The beast’s fist came down, but Ama moved far too quickly for it to land a hit. Abel swung his blade so harshly it shattered, and the Hinox collapsed, motionless.

Tilieth let out the breath she’d been holding, relieved, and she guided Epona ahead to meet up with her husband. Abel was grumbling by the time she got within earshot, looking at the remains of the sword he’d used.

“With no blacksmiths, this is going to be ridiculous,” he grumbled, tossing the hilt aside.

Tilieth was going to comment when the signal from the Sheikah slate suddenly went silent. The couple glanced at each other quickly, and then at the slate. Tilieth stepped away, and it chirped again. Then she moved forward, and it was silent.

Abel looked around. “Where the hell is it?”

Tilieth also surveyed the area, seeing the edge of the Great Plateau, the Gerudo Highlands, and… a bunch of water.

There was nothing. Unless…

“Well… we had to climb last time,” she noted. “Perhaps climbing is involved here too?”

Abel swallowed, eyebrows coming together in a sort of tired acceptance, and he hesitantly moved towards the edge of the plateau. Then he sighed heavily. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Tilieth dismounted, carefully settling Link on the ground as she moved to where her husband was. Then she saw it – the shrine was far below, tucked away in the rocky base of one of the plateaus they’d just crossed.

“We’ll have to glide down there,” Abel noted.

“You and Link weigh too much together,” Tilieth said worriedly.

“Til, all three of us got down from the plateau.”

“Barely,” Tilieth argued. “That was a rough landing.”

“You said it wasn’t too bad.”

“Well, yes, it was less horrible than I thought it would be, but still, we just went straight down! We’d have to maneuver a little to get there from here.”

“You’re not going alone in there with Link,” Abel argued.

Tilieth sighed heavily. “We really need another paraglider.”

“It’s directly below the bridge,” Abel observed. “We can jump from there. If we land in the water we’ll be right beside it.”

And so the couple left their horses on the plateau, carrying Link back midway across the bridge. Abel turned a shade paler as he looked down, and he took a shaky breath. Tilieth nudged him with her elbow and smiled, trying to reassure him, but honestly, it made her anxious too. Still, the jump from the Great Plateau had been far higher and more terrifying. They could do this.

Abel stood behind Tilieth, Link strapped to him as she faced forward. Just like on the Great Plateau, the family hesitated, but Tilieth took the initiative, tipping over the edge. She felt Abel inhale sharply as the ground lurched from beneath them, and while it was terrifying it was also pretty invigorating.

Tilieth quite liked paragliding. She just wished they could do it properly.

The paraglider shook a little with the wind, and Tilieth feared for a moment that the little thing might actually finally just fall apart, but they made a fairly smooth and somewhat rapid descent. Tilieth could almost reach the ground, but her feet slid down the mossy soil, mud soaking her worn thin boots as she squealed and sank into the chilly water. It was less of an actual problem and more of a startling change in temperature as she shivered and felt Abel reach under her arms and pull her back onto the grass.

“W-we made it,” she said through chattering teeth, smiling.

Abel huffed, giving her a soft half smile in return. “Yes, we did. Let’s get inside so you can dry off a bit.”

As they activated the shrine and moved to the lift, Tilieth paused a moment. “Wait… how are we going to get back up there?”

“The slate,” Abel answered dully. “Til. Did you forget we can use its magic to teleport?”

Tilieth blinked. “No. I did not forget.”

“You forgot.”

“Oh, be quiet!”

Abel laughed, the brightness and cheer on his face vanishing in the shadows as the lift took them into the shrine.

Light emerged, bluish and dull, descending from the high glowing ceiling as they exited, and a voice spoke out, “To you who sets foot in this shrine… I am Dah Kaso. In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I offer this combat trial.”

“Another combat trial?” Abel asked quietly, perking up. Tilieth immediately stepped aside, reaching for Link and letting her husband handle the situation. The way his chest puffed a little denoted his excitement anyway, a relief born from what was assuredly going to be a quick task in his mind.

Abel handed Link over to his wife, determined, and said, “I’ll only be a moment.”

Tilieth smiled, watching him enter a large arena. She carefully put Link down, leaning him against the wall as the doors slammed shut to the fighting room. She had been more anxious about the Hinox than this, knowing these trials were fairly simple, but the mere sight of the miniature guardian that rose from a chasm in the floor still made her heart skip a beat.

She knew she had to get over that. She knew she did. Abel did too – the little ones didn’t seem to bother him that much, but it was very painfully clear that the larger ones did, based on what had happened a few days ago.

She was still rattled about that matter, still unsure how to address it. But at the moment, everything was improving.

Abel drew a guardian blade, having snatched it from another shrine, and a silver shield. Tilieth had to admit, she enjoyed watching her husband fight when she knew the stakes were low. He was excellent at what he did, and certainly quite handsome as well when he was in combat.

The little guardian scurried around, but Abel dodged its attacks easily. Tilieth was almost convinced she could dodge them – it truly was just a minor test of strength. While Tilieth was merely a hunter and could barely call herself a fighter, she was fairly certain this thing was designed so simplistically that she could probably have beaten it herself.

If she could bear to stand in the same room as it.

But then the little guardian did something different. While it had been fighting with a spear, it started to use beam attacks instead, and this was when Tilieth physically recoiled. The larger guardians didn’t use silly little spears, after all, so it was differentiable enough. But the lasers…

She could still hear them firing in the distance of the village, could still see the one rogue flying guardian that had managed to reach them and was tearing the village apart, could still see the larger legged ones in the distance destroying the nearby garrison. She knew the majority of them had been stopped at Fort Hateno, but the damage that had been wrought by only two to three of them had been…

Abel yelped as the laser traveled in circles, slapping across his shin. Tilieth bolted to her feet, panicked, calling out to him, hands on the wall in an instant.

“I’m okay!” he reassured her before leaping over the next attack and finishing the little mechanical demon off.

The doors opened, and Tilieth ran to him, slamming into him and wrapping her arms around him, shaking.

“It’s okay, Til,” he said gently, holding her carefully and rubbing her back. “It’s fine, it wasn’t that bad.”

Tilieth tried to say she understood that, but she couldn’t speak anymore, hating herself for being so terrified but unable to stop it.

After a few moments, Abel managed to calm her enough that the two slowly walked back to Link and carried him to the monk’s chamber. Abel tossed aside the sparking guardian sword, collecting the spear that had been dropped instead, and let Tilieth open the treasure chest in an effort to cheer her up.

Although she was still rattled, her intrigue at the item she found did help her snap out of her silence a little. She examined the yellow ball in her hand, watching as it gave off a faint glow. Its design looked similar to the room around them, and she figured it had to be some kind of Sheikah technology.

“Looks like one of the cores that powers those things,” Abel observed, leaning over her shoulder. “I suppose it could come in handy for something.”

Now she knew he was humoring her. Abel would find such a thing absolutely useless under normal circumstances. Tilieth sighed, pocketing the item, and the family retrieved the spirit orb, exiting the shrine.

As they set foot into the cooler air, Tilieth shivered again, clothes still soaked. Abel brushed his fingers against her back, a questioning look in his eye. She smiled and nodded. She would be fine.

“Go on, then,” he said, handing her the slate. “Get us back to the shrine that was near the Outskirt Stable. We can catch up to our horses from there.”

Tilieth nodded, and by the time they had transported back to the other shrine (heavens that still felt so odd, it would take a while to get used to), she finally managed to swallow her fear down and asked, “How far to the desert from here?”

“Once we get back to our horses, it’s probably about a day’s ride to the entrance,” Abel answered. “I’ve only ever been to the Gerudo Desert once, though, so I’m not too sure of the timing.”

“But Link went a fair amount, right?”

“Only a few more than me, I believe. Obviously, with the princess and the Gerudo Champion he had more privilege to it, but he still wasn’t allowed in their city.”

Oh? Oh! She had forgotten about that rule, the strange tradition of the Gerudo that forbade men within their town. She couldn’t imagine why such a rule would exist – men weren’t that awful. Perhaps the Gerudo were scared of them or something. Or they just didn’t want a Hylian in their territory. But that wasn’t right, because women from any race could go there.

What a strange thing. She hoped they wouldn’t be cruel to Abel or Link. Whether the city was safe or not, she wouldn’t tolerate that.

The pair moved as quickly as they could to recover the ground they’d lost. Tilieth promised herself to feed Link lunch after they reunited with their horses. She and Abel could eat on the road. But as she looked at her husband, examining his new weapon, she asked, “Do you feel comfortable fighting with a spear?”

“I can fight with any weapon.”

Tilieth smiled a little, recalling the Hinox fight. “Such as a stick?”

Abel blinked, looking at her in confusion. Tilieth nudged him with the back of her hand. “Remember? On the Plateau? You didn’t have your sword when that Hinox first appeared. You fought it off with a stick. That’s why I wasn’t too worried earlier.”

Abel watched her a moment longer and then chuckled. “Yes, well, one does have to adapt.”

“Link definitely would’ve done that.”

“Link has done that before. Child deflected a guardian blast with a damn pot lid.”

Tilieth’s smile faded a little, and she looked away. Abel faltered in his cadence a little, and he said, “It shouldn’t be too far. I imagine we can make camp with the desert in view, assuming we don’t find a shrine to settle somewhere.”

Tilieth stopped walking entirely, biting her tongue, trying to fight through the tightness in her throat. She couldn’t keep avoiding matters pertaining to the Calamity. She couldn’t. It forced Abel to try to help her, it made him avoid the past, and that was the wrong path for him to take.

“Til?” her dear husband questioned quietly.

She opened her mouth, chest tight, but she still managed to squeeze out, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Abel repeated, facing her fully. “Sorry for what? What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t elaborate. She just shook her head. She tried to pick up where he’d left off, forcing her to return to the subject. “A… a pot lid?”

Abel sighed, cupping his hands over his mouth and letting out a loud, shrill whistle. Tilieth sighed too, knowing she’d lost the chance to try and force herself to address the issue.

Their horses came quickly as they approached the start of the bridges across the River of the Dead. Tilieth glanced up at the Plateau once more, heart heavy, once again wondering and mourning at the name. Abel pulled himself and Link back onto Ama, and waited for her to follow suit with Epona.

The pair crossed the bridges quickly, and Tilieth pushed the heaviness away in lieu of excitement over something new. She swallowed, letting her curiosity lead as she glanced around, and Abel halted the group so he could feed Link. Tilieth took in the sights, the brightness of it all, the different shades of brown and gold, blending together like freshly baked bread.

“Is the grass dead?” she asked as she watched it wave. It seemed far dryer here, and it certainly was warming up.

“Hm?” Abel looked up from taking care of Link, who was eagerly downing the entire bottle of stew. Tilieth glanced at her son as Abel looked at the surroundings, and she had to wonder if Link actually realized he was hungry.

She smiled sadly, remembering how her boy had always been hungry. He’d loved food, and he’d loved cooking with Tilieth.

“I don’t think it’s dead,” Abel finally answered, snapping her out of her musings. He glanced at Link, seeing the emptied bottle, and put it away, nudging Ama with his feet. Tilieth moved ahead as well, and both paused when the Sheikah Slate chimed again.

Hope and cheer sparked between the two as they followed the slate’s chirps to their next destination. It led them to the cliffside, and the two climbed over a small wall to find a new shrine, and a new adventure.

They also found a new face.

Abel was quick to react, guardian spear at the ready as Tilieth gasped, caught off guard. The black haired man, who had been examining the shrine, scrambled back a few paces, hands raised in surrender.

“Easy,” the man said in a tenor voice. “I don’t mean you any trouble.”

“Then go away,” Abel ordered, eyes firm.

The man glanced between the couple and the shrine, taking a slow step away. “Look, if you’re seeking shelter, this place isn’t the one. There’s a stable not far from here, you can get water there.”

“There’s a stable that’s intact?” Tilieth asked, placing her hand gently on Abel’s arm to get him to lower his weapon. Her husband didn’t budge, but his expression did relax a little.

“Uh, yeah,” the man replied, stuttering a bit at her response. “We don’t see many people through here, but there’s a group. And they have supplies. But we’ve—we’ve had a visitor or two in the last year or so and we’ve been making certain rules. No weapons is one of them.”

“Then you’d best head back to the stable,” Abel said, voice still heavy, though he finally settled the end of the spear into the dry ground. “Seeing as you’re unarmed in this encounter.”

The stranger’s brown eyes flicked back to the shrine one last time and then he nodded. “Right. I’ll do that.”

“Please,” Tilieth said hastily, stepping forward, making both men jump. “We—I’m sorry, he’s just—we’ve encountered people who are a bit reactive sometimes, it makes him jumpy. We aren’t here to hurt anyone.”

“Right,” the guy said uncertainly.

Abel looked between Tilieth and the stranger, and he frowned, putting his spear away.

“My name’s Tilieth,” she said welcomingly. “What’s yours?”

“Niamos,” the man replied easily, relaxing a little.

“Wonderful, a pleasure, now go away,” Abel snapped, crossing his arms. Tilieth glanced back at her husband exasperatedly.

Niamos watched them a moment longer and then nodded, sliding down the cliffside to get back to the main road.

Tilieth huffed, turning to her husband. “You have to be friendlier, you’re going to get us in trouble! What if they don’t let us into that stable now?”

“You really want to trust strangers at a time like this?” Abel argued, gesturing irritably. “And you want to try to enter the shrine while strangers are around? How would you explain that?”

Tilieth sighed, rubbing her face in annoyance. He had a point, but so did she – they couldn’t be making enemies everywhere they went! They had yet to even find a stable that was intact, this place could have travelers and information!

“Let’s just get inside,” Abel grumbled, the fire quickly leaving him as he moved towards the shrine. Tilieth followed slowly, dragging her feet and trying to push the frustration away.

This new shrine was not a combat trial, but more puzzles. Tilieth quickly spotted a receptacle for one of the energy balls to enter, but there was no way to reach the ball or get it to the receptacle. It moved along on a ground that pushed it from one side of the room to the other, a chasm between them and their target. Abel looked around, trying to find a way to climb over, but Tilieth glanced at the slate.

I wonder… they hadn’t used this particular rune too much, but it seemed an appropriate time to do so.

Raising the Sheikah Slate, Tilieth waited until the ball was in the right position and froze it with the stasis rune. She yelled in cheerful victory as it worked, and then she looked at her husband, eyes bright. “We have to push it into the hole, Abel! Using the frozen energy, remember?”

Abel watched the captured item uncertainly, and then he held his hand out for her to put a spare bow in his palm. The couple fired on the ball several times, watching with the slate as the energy built up, ready to propel it in the right direction.

The stasis spell snapped, sending the ball flying with enough energy to overshoot the receptacle, bounce against the wall, and smack the platform the couple stood on before disappearing into the chasm below.

Abel and Tilieth stared a moment, and then they looked at each other.

“A bit too many arrows, I suppose,” Tilieth noted with a sheepish laugh.

“Fine. I’ll freeze it, you shoot it,” Abel ordered, taking the slate from her.

The pair tried again, and thankfully one arrow was all it took for the wall beside them to reveal a door, which promptly opened.

The next room had yet another quasi bridge with a moving floor, except this time the ball was flanked by two miniature guardians. Tilieth stopped midway into the room, and Abel quickly pushed her back into the passage between the two areas.

“Watch Link,” he whispered, lowering the teenager to the ground and entering slowly.

Tilieth crouched down with their son, huddling close to him as Abel moved ahead, taking Tilieth’s pouch with him. He sifted through it briefly before pulling out a bomb arrow, nocking it and waiting. As soon as the first guardian appeared, he let it loose, and the ensuing explosion destroyed both miniature guardians easily. Tilieth breathed a sigh of relief, smiling and joining her husband to help him deal with the power orb.

“I hope we can find more arrows after this,” Abel lamented.

“Maybe the stable will have such supplies,” Tilieth wondered hopefully. “It sounds promising. I didn’t think we’d find any kind of civilization between Kakariko and Gerudo Town.”

“We’ll see how civilized it is,” Abel remarked, pushing onward as Tilieth fell back to retrieve Link.

”Honey, are you even going to trust the Gerudo?” Tilieth asked, genuinely curious and worried.

Abel sighed. “We were told they kept the area safe by trusted sources. That’s different.”

She supposed that was reasonable logic to him, dropping the point for now. At least it implied that he’d finally accepted the Sheikah were safe and trustworthy, considering his initial reaction to them.

The next room proved to be a bit more challenging. While there were no enemies, there were new moving bridges that were now accessible, though lasers would intermittently cut across the path, stopping them from carrying the next orb to its receptacle. Tilieth also spotted a treasure chest on a moving bridge parallel and just out of their reach.

She could get to it with the magnesis rune, though.

Smiling, she snatched the chest while Abel picked up the orb, ready to maneuver around the lasers.

“Wait, honey, there might be another way,” Tilieth suggested, growing worried as she dropped the chest in front of them.

Abel smiled a little, stubbornness set in his jaw, and he moved ahead. Tilieth knew better than to argue, just sighing instead.

It was like talking to a wall sometimes. Honestly.

Abel paused a moment, and then said, “The blocks. They’re cutting off the lasers. Til, I’ll need your help coordinating this.”

Ah, she saw it too! The blocks that slid along the bridges needed to be manipulated to help Abel get across. She grabbed the slate back from her husband, ready and eager to assist. With her efforts, Abel made it across safely, opening the next door. Doing so deactivated the lasers, allowing Tilieth to carry Link to the final room.

As the monk started to speak, Abel partly looked at Tilieth, murmuring, “Look, I know you’re inclined to trust everyone, but yesterday’s encounter on the road has to be something to bear in mind – perhaps I’m… a bit reactive, but we can’t just trust people on sight.”

Tilieth looked between the monk and Abel, wondering if it was rude to be speaking while he gave his speech that all the others had done, but she felt compelled to respond to Abel. The spirit orb brushed by her as it was absorbed by Link, and she hissed quietly, “You might be correct, but we can’t just attack on sight, either!”

“I didn’t attack—”

The family was teleported out of the shrine, and both spouses huffed, glaring mildly at each other. Then Tilieth looked back at the shrine, a little guilty at not honoring the monk’s final moments.

Abel watched her for a moment and then held his arms out. “Give me Link. We need to keep moving.”

Tilieth felt like she was losing control of the situation, losing the leadership he’d allotted her, but she didn’t fight about handing their son over. Instead, she said, “We’re still going to at least investigate the stable. We stayed at the Dueling Peaks Stable, after all, this isn’t new. It’s probably safer than camping on our own.”

“It’s not safer than camping inside a shrine.”

“There may not even be a shrine that close!” Tilieth argued, growing frustrated, and she shook her head. She understood Abel’s concerns, but still, if the man had said there was help up ahead they couldn’t just smack that chance away.

She led Epona quietly, sweat starting to soak her clothes as the intense heat of the desert crept ever closer. She’d never experienced such sweltering air, feeling it suffocate her the farther they moved along. Both Tilieth and Abel slowed their pace to give their horses a break, and they began to silently worry that their steeds would get too dehydrated to keep carrying them.

“Maybe we should travel on foot for a while?” Tilieth suggested.

Abel shook his head. “No. It’s best to utilize what water we have on the horses so we can cover more ground efficiently. It’ll be less water usage to just let them drink while carrying us than all of us drink and walk. Besides, the sun will be setting soon, and it’ll cool off.”

The sun would be setting soon? Tilieth felt like the day had just started.

A sparkle caught her attention, and Tilieth turned her head quickly, eyes searching intently for any sign of korok magic. Strangely enough, though, she didn’t see anything.

How odd. But, well, now that she thought about it, it looked darker than usual, so perhaps it was something else anyway.

The family continued their long trek, and Abel peeled off a layer or two of the tunic Tilieth had made him, stripping Link down to trousers and nothing else as the boy started to sweat. Tilieth wished she could strip her shirt off, but she supposed if there was an occupied stable nearby she probably shouldn’t.

“How much longer, love?” she asked desperately as the sun dipped behind the cliffside.

Abel sighed. “I… I’m not sure. Let’s stop and take a break.”

Tilieth looked helplessly at the Sheikah Slate as they halted, but all she saw was a blank screen and grid patterns.

Uncharted territory for her and the slate. She suddenly felt a little anxious and overwhelmed, but she tried to shake it off. This was an adventure, after all – she’d always wanted to see this part of Hyrule, and there were clearly plenty of shrines to help Link. Nothing was going wrong. She had no reason to be so frightened by their predicament.

Wind started to pick up, funneled through the narrowing pathways of the gorge they were traveling through, and Tilieth basked in the blessed relief it brought, even if the air was still dry and hot. It was better than nothing. Abel settled on the ground, letting Link rest on his lap, and Tilieth walked over to them, watching Link stare off into the distance.

Abel hadn’t bothered giving him dinner. He just stared at him.

“What’s wrong?” Tilieth asked, crouching down to be at eye level.

Abel watched Link for a while longer and then pulled the boy close. “Nothing. Just thinking about matters.”

Tilieth waited to see if he would elaborate, pulling out their water skins, and then when he stayed silent, she prompted, “What matters? The stable?”

“Silly things,” Abel assured her with a tired smile before drinking his water.

Tilieth watched him uncertainly. Was he lying? Was he reassuring her just to reassure her?

Ama and Epona both huffed as they watched their riders drink, and Tilieth hastily said, “Oh! Sorry girls, here, let me help you.”

As Tilieth let the horses drink, Abel spoke up. “Til, I don’t think it’s prudent for us to make camp out in the open in this place. We should just push ahead until we find somewhere safe.”

“I thought we were just taking a break anyway?” Tilieth shot back confusedly.

“I mean we shouldn’t stop at all unless it’s in a shrine or a cave or something,” Abel elaborated. “We might have to ride through the night.”

Oh. “Will the horses be all right?”

“They’ll manage far easier in the cooler night than during the day,” Abel noted.

Well, yes, she supposed that was true. Tilieth wished she could enjoy this a bit more, but she admittedly was starting to grow a little tired of baking in a canyon that looked the same everywhere they went. She’d seen no fauna and very little variation in the flora, though some of the flowers had been pretty, but there hadn’t really been much to collect or harvest.

Abel gave Link some water before wetting the boy’s hair a little, pulling it into a higher ponytail to keep him cooler. They rested in silence for a while as Tilieth squinted around her, trying to parse out what she could of the terrain, to find minute details that might differ. It seemed a little less daunting without the sun beating down on them, but as nighttime encroached it made it a bit more ominous.

After all, there would be monsters out at night.

Trying to revisit some issues rather than worry over what was to come, Tilieth took a hold of her courage. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Hm?” her husband hummed absentmindedly as he took care of their boy.

“The—you were talking about Link,” she tried to explain. “And—and you mentioned—and it’s—”

“Til, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“But we do,” she insisted. “We do because I can’t keep avoiding what happened, I—”

I can’t keep putting it on you. It’s crushing you.

She bit her tongue, tried to fight through the tightness of her throat, and she ground out with a wobbly tone, “We can’t keep running from it.”

The wind was deafening, filling the void between the pair.

And then Link sneezed loudly, making both of them jump.

The tension broke, and Abel chuckled. “Yes, you’re right. But we’ll deal with it later. Link is saying we should go.”

Tilieth found she couldn’t keep voicing her fears and worries any longer either, love bubbling in her chest at seeing Abel smile, at seeing Link as awake and alive as he was, and she nodded in agreement.

They moved at a faster pace now, rejuvenated with some water and the shade. Ama and Epona trotted happily, and Tilieth felt her heart soar at the sight of architecture built into the canyon walls. That had to be a good sign.

And then the Sheikah Slate beeped again.

The couple’s heat exhaustion vanished in their excitement and haste, and they pushed their horses to a full gallop to trace the signal. Tilieth was practically flying off the saddle, smiling from ear to ear. Three shrines in a day, and making ground!

Of course, the slate led them directly into a canyon wall. But Tilieth could hear movement, people up ahead. Abel held a hand out to stop her from continuing.

“Shrine first,” he whispered. “That way we have somewhere safe.”

It was a compromise. Tilieth recognized that. And she would take it. Abel climbed first with the slate to investigate, leaving Link with Tilieth as the two rested on the ground, giving their horses a break as well. This cliff in particular was quite tall, and Tilieth worried a little about how they would get Link up there.

Then again, they climbed a mountain in their first few days off the Plateau, so she figured they’d make it work. Today was just a bit tiring.

Today was very tiring, honestly. It didn’t seem like it should have been. Leaning her head back against the wall, Tilieth closed her eyes, letting Link’s head rest against her chest as she held him.

But then she heard… a giggle?

Opening her eyes, Tilieth looked around and saw a girl in the distance, probably around Link’s age. Her golden hair was kept out of her face with a white headband, the tied ends of it blowing in the wind with the rest of her free flowing hair, tanned skin glowing in the dusk light. She was looking elsewhere, thankfully not having noticed Tilieth or Link yet as she sat in the grass, watching it wave. A bird fluttered nearby, and the girl giggled again, her own feathered earrings blowing in the wind as if they wished to fly away as well.

Tilieth pressed back against the cliffside a little, not really intimidated by a teenager but still wanting to avoid detection. She was curious, though, about where this girl had come from – the stable had to be ahead, based on all the noise from others and this girl’s presence.

She was so curious, so hopeful, she just wanted the relief of seeing a stable intact for the first time in ten years.

Tilieth glanced up at the cliffside. Abel was just finally making it over the edge from what she could make out. She looked back at the girl, and she jumped when she realized the teenager was staring directly at her, amber eyes cheerful.

Tilieth swallowed, holding Link closer and smiling. “Hello there.”

The teenager tilted her head to the side, walking over and sitting across from them. “Hello.”

This girl was completely innocent. Abel’s paranoid was just rubbing off on her. Tilieth shook herself subtly to get the jitters off, and she said, “My name’s Tilieth. What’s yours?”

“Is he okay?” the girl asked quietly, eyes gentle as she watched Link.

“Oh, he’s sick,” Tilieth explained easily, growing accustomed to using that excuse. Then she looked the girl over, taking in the pink overshirt, white undershirt, brown trousers, green sash, how they were slightly torn and patched up, and she had to ask, “Are you from the stable?”

“He needs offerings,” the girl said, eyes never leaving Link.

Tilieth blinked. “He—offerings?”

The girl’s eyes finally met Tilieth’s own, and she shivered a little as a breeze tore through the area. The teenager’s smile softened, and she nodded. “Offerings.”

“Tilieth!”

Abel’s whispered hiss to get her attention made her nearly jump out of her skin. She prayed he wasn’t going to panic over the teenager, but when she looked up at her husband he seemed perfectly calm.

Thank Hylia. Looking back, she was going to tell the child she had to go.

No one was there.

Tilieth stared, looking around, starting to grow nervous. Did the girl go back to the stable? What—

“Tilieth, the shrine overlooks the stable, it’s a good staging point,” Abel reported as he slid back down. “I think I can carry Link up there. Are you okay to climb on your own?”

“I—y-yes,” she hastily replied, trying to reorient. Well, it wasn’t like she could help it if the girl went back and reported finding her. It wasn’t like the man from earlier, Niamos, wouldn’t anyway. So far she hadn’t seen anyone who was hostile.

Abel smiled a little, giving her a quick pat on the shoulder before strapping Link to his back and starting to climb once more. She worried a little for him, having run around and fought as much as he had today, and then they’d both gotten some heat exhaustion. “Are you sure you’re not too tired, love?”

“I’m fine, Til.”

“Seriously, Abel,” Tilieth insisted. “We can just camp down here if we need to.”

Abel kept moving, easily throwing back, “We’re losing what daylight we have left, Til. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Sighing, she followed him up the cliffside, feeling her own muscles shake. She nearly lost her grip at one point, gasping a little, and Abel immediately looked down.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” she insisted hastily so he wouldn’t tire. “Let’s keep moving.”

Honestly, if she stopped at this point, she would fall. It was starting to make her a little nervous. When they finally reached the top, both of them had to catch their breath. Tilieth looked down at how far they’d climbed, and then she saw it.

The stable.

Tilieth nearly cried, glancing down at something that used to be so familiar and normal and safe, a respite amidst a long journey. After not seeing one for so long, and only stumbling upon ruins of the rest, catching sight of a fully intact stable, its horse head high in the sky, made her almost fall to her knees.

“Goddess, it’s there, it’s really there,” she said shakily, eyes stinging.

Abel moved slowly to come up beside her, still panting a little, face conflicted.

“Please, Abel, we have to go down there,” she insisted.

“Tomorrow,” Abel replied. “We’ll go tomorrow. When we’re both well rested. I… please. I can’t fight them like this if something goes wrong.”

Her heart ached, but she nodded. Abel was trying. She would too. The couple entered the shrine once they felt ready, and Tilieth was relieved to find that these puzzles were quite straightforward. Abel moved ahead to eliminate any little guardians, and Tilieth found herself almost too tired to be as terrified as she usually was.

Almost.

They reached the monk in record time, and once they were teleported outside, Tilieth found herself sitting on the ground peering over the edge. The sun had long since set, cooler air bringing immense relief from the blazing heat of earlier in the day. Tilieth stared longingly at the stable, wondering if there were actually beds in there like in Kakariko, wondering how many people were there, what stories they had.

She wondered what stories the two people she’d encountered today had. But she turned back to Abel, who was heading towards the shrine already.

He wanted to address the matter in the morning. They would address it in the morning. Slowly, Tilieth reentered the shrine with her family, and they both collapsed in exhaustion, barely unpacking anything to rest.

And as the moon rose higher and higher, a voice carried on the wind, one lone ear twitched, and a dark sparkle shone in the air.

“—nk. –k. –p’n—s.”

“—p’n—”

“Link. Open your eyes."

[skyloftian-nutcase]

YES I LOVE YOUR ART

I need Abel doing something silly with Tillieth laughing amused cuz her tough and strong husband is a dork

Abel discovered shield surfing and will NOT stop talking about it. Tilieth should probably be concerned her husband almost died but he’s just so happy about it, she can’t be upset.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Don't know if you're still doing the stick figure thing, but if you are, then I was thinking just...

Abel getting some time to rest & not be stressed out. Maybe just sort of relaxing contentedly in a family cuddle pile with his family with him in the middle?

Family camping trip a couple years before the Calamity ❤️

[skyloftian-nutcase]

If you're still looking for prompts: Bandage

Tilieth sighed as she wrapped a bandage around her son’s leg. The injury had greatly improved, but it was still bad enough that she was concerned about it getting infected if they didn’t keep finding spirit orbs. When she glanced up to look at Abel, who was holding Link up in his lap so she could work on the injuries, she smiled, watching her husband absentmindedly play with their son’s hair as he gazed off at the sky.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

@kikker-oma here you go, one sickfic with Til & Abel ❤️

It was a beautiful day on the plateau. The sun was shining brilliantly, but its heat was tempered by the cooler winds of autumn, drying the heat and pushing the green from the leaves. Birds chirped as they gathered supplies for the oncoming winter, and squirrels were audibly scampering about on the thatched roof.

It was a perfect day. But Tilieth lay on the hard bed, miserable, curled in on herself. She’d awoken to an unpleasant cramping sensation, and she figured she knew what it heralded.

Tilieth hadn’t necessarily made plans for the day, but she’d wanted to check on her garden, and this ruined any chance of that. Or really, any motivation to do anything. The cramps were bad enough, but the accompanying nausea nearly brought her to tears.

The sun moved higher into the sky, making Tilieth miserable that she was stuck indoors, but she could hardly move. When she heard approaching footsteps, she started crying, feeling guilty but also not wanting to have to explain anything. She just wanted to be alone. But she also wanted to be held.

The door opened, and Abel shuffled inside, having patrolled the plateau and probably hunted a little. He paused as soon as he entered, immediately honing in on Tilieth, and she buried her face in her pillow.

“Til?” He asked quietly, walking towards her.

Tilieth tried not to cause a fuss, but the mere mention of her name, him just entering her space made her fall apart. She curled in even more, getting some relief from the pain, but her emotions were all over the place.

The first day was always the worst.

Abel paused, distressed and confused, and then his eyebrows rose in dawning comprehension.

Without a word, her husband exited the house, making Tilieth feel both happy that she didn’t have to explain anything or feel guilty and infinitely more alone.

When Abel returned a few minutes later, he had a hot water bottle and a cup of tea in his hands, and he knelt down on the floor so he was eye level with her as she lay in bed.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said softly, holding out the offerings.

Tilieth cried quietly, taking the gifts and feeling equal parts miserable and touched by his actions. Abel always tried to take care of her during this time of the month. The hot water bottle felt amazing against her abdomen, and some sips of the ginger tea helped with her nausea. She could still hardly move, but she wasn’t really in agony while she was still.

Abel laid his palms flat on the bed, resting his chin on them as he gazed at her and smiled. “I’m still in awe with women. Men may be able to physically fight better, but women can certainly endure more. I wouldn’t last in your shoes.”

Tilieth gave him a small smile in return, the tears threatening to return. She hated feeling like such an emotional mess - it wasn’t as if she wasn’t capable of tipping into this point on a regular basis, but she couldn’t stop herself at all when this happened.

Abel kept her silent company, shifting a little so he was simply sitting on the floor head resting on his arm, just a hair’s breadth from her. Eventually, her husband grabbed a book to keep himself preoccupied as he rested with her, letting her sniffle or reposition until, by evening, Tilieth finally scooted close enough to wrap her arm around his head and snuggle in close. The pain was easing, and tomorrow would be a better day.

When Tilieth realized nearly half the day had gone by without Abel moving, and she herself had only had the tea since she’d had no appetite, she poked her husband. Abel glanced up at her, half asleep from reading. “What is it, Til?”

Tilieth reached for the cup, and Abel sat up, taking it. He rose wordlessly, easing the hot water bottle out of her death grip against her abdomen, and went back outside. When he returned, both items were replenished, but Tilieth shook her head, even as she received them.

“You need to eat,” she eventually said.

Abel blinked, having seeming forgotten to, and Tilieth rolled her eyes, exasperated. Then her husband laughed. “Honestly, stop thinking about mothering everyone, Tilieth. You’re not feeling well.”

Tilieth’s emotions swung the opposite way, tears drying in an instant as her cheeks flushed in steadily growing annoyance. Abel recognized the look, and he straightened as if a superior officer had just walked into the room. He nodded with a mumbled, hasty acknowledgement, heading outdoors once more, and Tilieth relaxed.

It took a while before her husband returned, but she could smell the food cooking. Thankfully, the ginger tea had helped enough that the mere smell didn’t make her vomit. Then she recognized the smell, and her anger siphoned out of her in a heartbeat.

Hylian herb soup. It was a simple recipe, bone broth, some veggies and hylian herbs thrown together. He always made it for her when she wasn’t feeling well. He hadn’t made it in years.

When Abel came inside, he only had one bowl, and it was small. She knew he must have eaten his own helping outside, but he still offered her some in case she could stomach it.

Sitting up a little, Tilieth was thankful to recognize that it wasn’t torture to move as much, and with the fresh hot water bottle, she managed some sips of the soup.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered finally.

Abel shook his head. “It’s not your fault, love. Besides, your moods are nothing compared to Lyra’s. I was terrified of that girl’s adolescence.”

Although mentioning their lost daughter still hurt after all these years, the comment did manage to make Tilieth laugh. Their dear Lyra had her father’s temper far more than her mother’s.

Slowly, Abel settled in the bed with his book, and Tilieth finally managed to eat something for the day before snuggling into her husband’s embrace. Tomorrow would be a better day. She knew that. But, with Abel, even today wasn’t all that bad.