#I’m pretty sure it was ganon who actually called to link to come and find him not Zelda | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnamonest · 3 years

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Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good.

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose.

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

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yasmeensh · 3 years

Text

Zelda 2 - Mystery of Kasuto

Yet again, with more Zelda 2 lore. Since winter break started, I went back to working on my Zelda 2 comic again (it’s been years but I’m still going at it haha). I collected a LOT of information from within the game and from other loz games. I’m at the last stages of getting all the information needed for a fully fledged story (My aim with this comic project is to flesh out the world of Hyrule in the era of decline. Make it feel like the newer Zelda games in terms of lore and plot, but also keep its’ classic essence). HOWEVER! Before I get ahead with outlining a full story, there is one thing that needs to be sorted out. that is, Kasuto Town. Deciding on Kasuto town’s identity will entirely change the aesthetic of the story, how the people will be represented, and even the lore of the Zelda2 pre-story (sleep-cursed Princess Zelda) I’ve spent a while collecting evidence and clues for my theory. I was not sure if I should go ahead with it and solidify it for the comic, so I want to share it and hear what opinions, additions, or contradictions any of you would have. I’m very interested to hear what you have to say on it! Anyways, without further ado, here is the theory:

The basic idea is that Kasuto People are Sheikah. (Disclaimer: This is just a theory and entirely speculative. The aim to try to make sense of Kasuto town with the established canon information we know and fit it to the wider loz world.)

1. Location of Kasuto Town

There are two Kasuto towns. A deserted Kasuto, and a hidden Kasuto.

From what we know of the Sheikah history leading to the downfall timeline, is that The Hyrulean Civil War (Pre-OOT) nearly wiped out all of the Sheikah population. Kakariko was their original settlement, but has since been opened to everyone. So, where did all the Sheikah go? Only Impa is around. WELL, perhaps since the events of the civil war, they decided to take residence far away from Hyrule Castle, and only send their most capable every generation to care for the Princess (Which is always the new Impa). Impa always shows up again as a nursemaid for Princess Zelda in the downfall timeline.

Additionally, as protectors of The Royal Family, it works out how their town is situated next to the entrance to the Great Palace, where the final Triforce is kept (To keep an extra eye on who ventures there?).

Not entirely sure why Kasuto was destroyed. Did Ganon know about the Triforce of Courage being around there? Did he attack them with an army of Moas while they fought to keep him away? This might have led them to go into hiding. They are the only ones who know all the secrets of Hyrule. They need to survive in order to preserve it.

2. Magic

There are two spells taught in the Kasuto towns. One of them makes a small temple (shrine?) come out of the ground. The other spell is the strongest spell in the entire game (thunder).

^ This is the building that emerges from deep underground after using the ‘Spell’. (He finds the magic key there. A key that can open pretty much every door ever. Or at least the palace doors). What IS strange about Kasuto though, is that the palace situated between the towns has an item that acts almost exactly like the Lens of Truth; It’s a cross that allows Link to see ghosts. (In OOT it does the same thing, in addition to looking through false doors and floors. It’s used to track down the Phantom guide in the haunted wasteland). A little suspicious, no? (PS. I’ve been thinking about redesigning the cross item for the comic, and I SWEAR the three parts at the top can easily be made to look like the Sheikah eyelash symbol. Voila) This could all merely be coincidence, but the location next to the Great Palace AND the three-eye-rock palace containing the cross is convenient to make us assume it’s connected to them in some way, especially with the later established lore of the Sheikah.

3. Technology

Ok. bear with me. This is a big one. This will be the game changer. If we can solidify that these Sheikah are just as technologically advanced as the Sheikah in botw, this will completely change how they could be interpreted in the comic.

For starters, only the Sheikah know the details of the legend of Zelda. And here I quote from the Zelda 2 1988 manual:

“There was a door in the North Castle called “The door that does not open.” Only the descendants of the Impa family who served the King knew how to open the door.”

As we could see, access to the chamber and scrolls that provide information on the palaces and Triforce is only accessible to the Sheikah. A private affair between the royal family and Sheikah ONLY? The King that separated the Triforce is the one that was in-charge of building all 7 palaces. Because the Sheikah work closely with the Royal Family, they must be 100% involved (Also, remember how Kasuto town has the magical key that can open all doors in the palaces?) OKAY NOW HERE IS THE TECHNOLOGY PART The elevators. The Elevators.

For the longest time I told myself it must be some kind of pully system. But after I started thinking about Kasuto as being Sheikah, and their heavy involvement with the palaces, I’m starting to think that maybe these are actually electrical (or magical. idk what it is) powered elevators. Sort of like in Breath of the Wild. There is also Rebonack, the Island palace boss with his floating robot horse

Maybe.... Maybe the ironknuckles and doomknockers are also robots? For all we know, they are just heavily armored... things. With no face. We know construction on the palaces must have begun sometime at the end of the Golden Era. That was the time when the Royal Family possessed the full Triforce for countless generations. It was the most prosperous Hyrule has EVER been (in the downfall timeline at least). The Sheikah might have had the time to advance their technology? It’s not too far fetched. After such a long time of prosperity, the King found that there was no one worthy of the full Triforce to continue this golden age (He was scared of his wicked son it seems) so he started this whole project to hide away the Triforce of courage.

(It’s interesting in a way how that King saw that the chaos caused by a separated Triforce is much merciful than the consequences of the full Triforce falling into the wrong hands. It mirrors Princess Zelda’s decision when she broke the Triforce of wisdom into 8 pieces so Ganon can’t have it. She really is wise for a small child. As wise as the ancient king.) Well, what are your thoughts? Would it be plausible that the people at Kasuto are truly the Sheikah? Is it possible that the palaces have technology? This is pretty crucial for the development of this comic project 👀 It will completely change how the palaces will be portrayed, the enemies, and the entire Kasuto settlements (plus if Impa is affiliated with them). WOULD you be fine with such an interpretation? SHARE YOUR THROUGHTS!

#zelda2 #long post #zelda2 lore #I'm pretty hyped about this haha #I've been kinda in the shadows about this project BUT I decided I might be ready to tackle a comic #the past year I did some multi-page comics #so that was great practice #I think I'm ready to REALLY start delving into this one #a multi-chapter and multi-volume comic. fun #mmmm #I'm flipping this whole game. I'm gonna add so much plot and drama and suspense and HAHAHAHA #sorry I'm just really excited about this #There IS a way make this game work. There is enough material deep inside to allow for a fully fledged story and world

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queenof-literature · 4 years

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Hi! Ik u usually only write abt wild but I’m getting desperate for some wind content since I’m pretty sure I’ve gone through what little there is for him so I have a req if it’s okay! Could you do something revolving around the theory that since Time technically didn’t die in Wind’s timeline the spirit of the hero couldn’t move on so when Wind forced the gods to make him the hero they created a entirely new spirit of the hero with him as the base which resulted in him having some 1/2

2/2 little differences to the other links? And this is where the actual req comes in can you write about the links finding that out abt Wind and their reactions? Thank you so much if you do!

I’m sorry anon I didn’t completely understand the theory so I did my best. I’m sorry if it’s not what you asked for! I hope you enjoy it though! Also I haven’t physically played Wind Waker so please forgive the mistakes.

Wind knew he wasn’t like the other heroes. It was the stark difference that tipped him off. He had never ridden a horse, he had never been completely landlocked, his entire Hyrule was flooded for Hylia’s sake. Wind figured that’s why he got along with Sky so well, the fellow hero was also from a land far different from the Hyrule the others knew. Every Hyrule had its differences, but Wind and Sky seemed to be in a world that wasn’t even Hyrule. If Sky he supposed it was true, Sky was from Skyloft and Hyrule was the unexplored surface world. But Wind was from Outset island. That was his entire world until Aryll was kidnapped. Wind thinks that the Hyrule he explored was Time’s, but he didn’t want to tell the older that his Hyrule was flooded. Not the Hyrule he lived in with his wife. Not the one he saved just Wind to go and screw it up. The one he suffered to save over and over. He was terrified that Time would be furious with him, that he would think Wind was a failure. Wind didn’t want the others to know about his boat, how when King Hyrule died his boat went still and the eyes were milky and glassed over. Wind didn’t want them to blame him for everything.

“Wind? You with us buddy?” Warriors asked, placing his hand on WInd’s shoulder.

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry I was just thinking!” Wind claimed cheerfully, burying his doubts down quickly. He could tell Warriors wasn’t fooled, but he at least didn’t have to worry about the older questioning him until they were alone.

“You know where you are in the timeline bud?” Legend asked. That’s right! That’s what had started the train of thought. The others were trying to figure out how the timeline was laid out. It wasn’t necessarily that important, but many of the Links were curious. They thought Wild was at the very end, Warriors was some branch off, and Time had made a couple different ones, it was all hard to keep track of. Time didn’t go into detail about it, but apparently his name had come from him messing with time throughout his quest with his ocarina.

“Um. I’m not sure.” Wind said, trying desperately to change the subject. Please change the subject. He didn’t want to admit what he was thinking. That he wasn’t even one of them. He wasn’t the same spirit of the hero. He didn’t think he belonged with them and saying it out loud would only confirm it.

“You have no idea?” Hyrule asked curiously.

“Well… um…” Wind stuttered out. How can he explain this and still have his older brothers see him as one of them. He was already the youngest! He didn’t want to be the outcast in any other way.

“This is confusing for all of us kid, don’t be embarrassed if you get it wrong. None of us know for sure.” Time comforted from across the fire.

“It’s not that. Um…” Wind started. He might as well tell them. His grandma always told him not to bottle things in, otherwise it would come out in unhealthy ways. That was advice he always tried to take to heart. “I don’t think I’m like you… I think I’m a different hero’s spirit.” Wind got out, looking around to see the other’s reactions. They all looked some degree of shocked and curious.

“What do you mean, Wind?” Four asked.

“Well when Aryll got kidnapped I went after her. I didn’t give shit who the hero was, I needed to save my sister. We always celebrated the Hero of Time so I figured I could do something similar I guess.” Time’s eye widened in shock. “So I went after my sister and eventually that turned into me pulling the sword and making the Gods make me the next hero because I was going to save my sister goddammit. But on Outset some of the elders told us they think the Hero of Time’s soul never died out so the hero never passed on his soul.” Wind continued on talking about the odd complexities of the Hero’s spirit and how it wasn’t quite passed on. Luckily they were used to Wind’s fast paced talking. “And anyway I think I’m an entirely different hero.” Wind finished with a big breath as he usually did when he was done with his rants. The other heroes looked at their youngest in shock, Time especially. He didn’t realize he would create so much chaos when splitting times. He didn’t have any other choice but still… and what does it mean the Hero’s spirit doesn’t pass on? Is there some way to solve it? But if he solved it, what if something happened to Wind. Time itself was so tricky…

“You forced the Gods to make you a hero? That’s fucking badass!” Four called out. Wind felt his shoulder’s relax. How could he think the others would hate him?

“How did you even do that?” Legend grumbled, not wanting to admit he was impressed by the little pirate.

“That is really impressive Wind.” Hyrule spoke up from beside Wild.

“I’m not really that surprised you practically forced all powerful beings.” Warriors smirked, ruffling Wind’s hair, which the younger fought out of habit.

“Me either.” Wild spoke up.

“Can’t say I’m that surprised either. It explains a lot.” Sky smiled at Wind.

“Get ‘em pirate!” Twilight whooped, the rest of the group laughed, and WInd finally felt the knot in his stomach loosen up now that the light atmosphere was coming back. He looked appreciatively at Twilight.

“I feel like I should apologize.” Time spoke softly once the laughter died down.

“There’s no reason to Old Man.” Wind said confidently, hiding his turmoil. He couldn’t tell Time about what he thought was his Hyrule. He wasn’t even sure it was Time’s. “It was a legend. We’re not even sure it was you. Who knows what happened in between then?” Wind stared down Time, daring him to argue. Time eventually relented and chuckled.

“Fair enough. Who knows how all this happened or if the time is even linear.” Time agreed. The rest of the group began chatting again, debating the potential timelines that led to each of them. Time moved from across the fire to next to Wind, sandwiching him between Time and Warriors on one log.

What else is on your mind?” Time asked. Wind sighed, he should have known Time would catch on. He wouldn’t lie, but he didn’t want to tell the whole truth. Not tonight.

“I worried about what would happen when I said that. That you guys wouldn’t think I was a hero. I know it’s silly now but I was still worried.” Wind stated guiltily. The others wouldn’t think that, they weren’t that shallow. But was still his main concern when he spoke up.

“Kid. You stabbed Ganon in the fucking skull. You’re a hero.” Warriors confirmed, leaving now room for argument.

“Age doesn’t matter with heroic actions. If anything it makes them more impressive.” Time bumped his shoulder against Wind. It felt nice to hear it out loud from some of the people he respected most.

“Thanks guys.” Wind laughed. He was a hero.

The Hero of Winds.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #legend #time #warriors #wild #four #hyrule #sky #twilight #wind #lu #loz #legend of zelda #answered asks #anonymous #queenof-literature story #QoL Story

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fuckit-hero-of-trains · 4 years

Text

Alone Together Ch 3

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311754/chapters/54522319

Chapter summary:

“The Eyes…” Hyrule’s voice whispers from between clasped arms.

Suddenly, Hyrule throws his head up and away from his knees, eyes large and faraway. His eyes flick left right left right, somewhere or some when else. He reaches out a hand to no one but the rain. Then, slowly, far too slowly to be natural, he turns too bright eyes first to Legend and then Four.

“The Eyes of Ganon are everywhere.”

Somehow, the rain gets colder.

Or: A series of fics focused on Four and his interactions, inside and out.

Four usually enjoys the rain.

Most would probably assume he wouldn't. Rain meant high humidity, which often meant having to crank his fires even higher in order to fight off the cursed moisture that affects the melting point of metals. Rain also meant less people wandering the dirt roads beyond Hyrule Town, ergo, less people coming in to buy or commission weapons.

Some might also assume he hated rain due to his– uhhhm– reduced stature and its apparent susceptibility to the cold.

But the people who assumed that would be wrong. Every single part of Four finds joy in the rain.

Part of him loves it for its practicality; the way he can easily open a window in the forge to let out the hot air, making it easier to breath. A breath of fresh air to cool his lungs from the smoldering heat.

Another loves it on principle, an excuse to get out of the forge and spruce up around the house while they have less people bursting in and messing everything up holy Hylia why are customers the worst? why can't they put shit back? it's all organized by species! they KNOW this sword doesnt go here! why the FUCK would they put it here???

A third likes its soft presence, a gentle staccato heard peripherally as he reads. The way it patters unobtrusively yet universally throughout the house as they go about their separate work. Something unifying even while apart.

The last loves the results; warm, creamy tea by the fire with the others maybe followed by a run through the puddles outside if he’s good enough at guilt tripping them with puppy dog eyes.

All of him loves its smell and the cool, refreshing feeling it leaves in the air, battling away the overly warm winds common to his Hyrule.

So yes, Four usually enjoys the rain.

But not right now.

Right now it sucks.

It is absolutely pouring and has been since they had set off from their cave that morning.

They’re in Hyrule’s Hyrule– Goddesses, that sounds stupid C’mon thats not nice– headed toward what the traveling hero had called a nearby town.

A nearby town that is apparently more than a three hour walk away.

To be fair, he did say ‘relatively nearby.’ Stated plainly. Flat but at least diplomatic.

A fat lot of good that does us now. Sniped back, pissed for the sake of being pissed at this point.

Four sighs, making sure not to let his annoyance pull his face into a scowl. He knows it's no use getting angry at anyone. It was either walk through the rain, or stay in the cave until the inclement weather let up.

One entailed a cold but ultimately painless three hour walk. The other, being in an enclosed space with 8 other versions of himself for an unknown period of time.

He knows which one he would choose any day. No one needs a bored Wind and Wild with access to unlimited bombs. Or Warriors and Legend forced to share close quarters with no end in sight. Or Twilight and Time animatedly discussing farming techniques for hours with no escape.

Not even the Triforce of Courage would make him brave enough to face that.

Doesn't mean I have to like it… Agitated but calmer, the ocean’s surface settling after a storm.

Now if only this storm would let up.

Four swipes a hand across his face for what feels like the millionth time that day, brushing away the droplets of water threatening to drip into his eyes from the ridge of his eyebrows. Pin pricks of not-quite-pain flare across his cheeks as more freezing rain whips against his already cold skin.

There is a dull ache in his head courtesy of the ponytail he has pulled his hair into. It sits at the back of his head, soggy and drooping, pulling at his scalp. However, the smithy makes no move to remove it from its tie. He had gotten tired of tucking away the sopping wet curtains of hair at around the one hour mark of their walk.

He’ll take the slight headache over wet hair perpetually in his eyes and mouth, thank you very much.

He, unfortunately, can't do anything about his tunic. The patchwork cloth hangs sodden and heavy from his frame, slapping against his forearms and thighs as he trudges behind the others. His boots are likewise sopping wet, water squishing up between his toes with each step. It feels like he's walking barefoot through a freezing swamp. Uncomfortable and vaguely disgusting.

To put it shortly– Oh, fuck off– he’s having a terrible time.

But at least he’s not alone in that department.

From his vantage point near the back, Four can see Hyrule as he leads the group, normally fluffy brunette hair slicked back and stuck to his skull as he treads onward determinedly. Even from behind, Four can tell that his arms are crossed tightly over his chest. Whether it’s from concern, habit, or to ward off the cold, he can’t tell.

Legend and Sky walk behind the traveling hero, almost shoulder to shoulder with one another as they plod onwards. An unusual pair to be sure. Well, at least it would be, if Sky hadn’t divulged to Four earlier that morning that he was taking it upon himself to keep Legend in line for the day. The already snappish Link could blow his gasket at the drop of a hat on a good day, let alone their current circumstances.

But even Legend would think twice about losing his cool with Sky, and the chosen hero knew it. Not enough people give Sky credit for his machinations, the short hero muses as he watches Sky throw a disarming smile and an unheard comment to the pink haired hero, who looks like he's grinding his teeth to stumps with the effort of keeping his snark in check.

Weaponized kindness is not something to be underestimated. Four should know; part of him wields it just as effectively against the others– a hot knife through butter.

Come on guys, I’m not that bad. The words themselves indignant, but undercut with a warm tinge of self-satisfaction.

Easy for you to say. You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of your disappointed looks. Breezes back, flashes of the exact face blinking into existence behind Four’s eyes. Warm amber eyes clouded over and brows furrowed. Freckled cheeks drawn in and lips pouted.

Four feels himself shutter and not from the cold. Yeesh, just the thought of it makes him feel bad.

I just don't like hearing him cry is all. Words grumbled.

Oh, you don’t have to convince us. Tone that of pointed indifference. A verbal nudge in the ribs.

For once in your life, shut up! Voice rising quickly like the tide. More embarrassed than actually annoyed.

Softy. Comes the definitive response, three different tones shaping the thought.

Four shakes his head, a slight smile finding its way onto his face despite the circumstances. Sometimes it paid to have four distinctive thought processes running at once, if only to derive enjoyment from three of them ripping the fourth to shreds.

A wet slapping noise draws Four’s attention away from the teasing massacre currently occupying his mind.

Next to him, Four can see Warriors trudging with a weary expression on his face. His normally majestic scarf hangs heavily from his neck, sopping wet. With each step, the cloth smacks into the back of his legs, the source of the noise that had alerted the smithy.

Warriors seems to have had enough of it, because he takes ahold of the part of the scarf wrapped around his neck and swings the cloth around to secure it more tightly against his throat. In his annoyance, Four can see that the older hero has used more force than he had probably intended.

Oh no It’s his own fault There’s no time to warn him This is gonna be good.

Four watches with mounting– excitement? apprehension?– anticipation as the water logged cloth sweeps around and around Warriors’ neck before the end of the fabric reaches the Captain’s unsuspecting face, slapping him with a resounding wet clap.

The older hero freezes in shock, the sodden scarf remaining stuck in place for a moment before slowly sloughing off his face, leaving an absolutely shocked and sputtering expression in its wake.

The Pretty Boy glances around to make sure no one saw that and catches Four’s gaze locked on him. Blue eyes widen into a pleading look.

Four lets the corners of his lips raise minutely.

Oh yes. He did, in fact, see that.

The captain lets out a quiet groan and speeds up his steps, head ducking lower as the tips of his ears turn a faint pink.

Four forces down the laughter threatening to escape his lips. Better to let the Captain stew in embarrassment for the moment and bring it up later, when he’s not expecting it. Preferably with Legend present.

Karma for all the ‘kiddo’ jabs and short jokes.

What goes around, comes around.

Like a wet scarf? Four’s left eye twitches, a wink almost slipping from his brain into real life.

I hate that I’m associated with you.

You aren’t just associated with me. You are m– Shit!

Though his toes are numb from the cold, Four can feel as his left foot slips too far forward, gliding across the rain slicked grass like it’s ice. His right foot sweeps forward automatically, trying to stabilize him, but only succeeding in sliding forward as well.

A jolt of sick anticipation wells up in his stomach.

So much for having dirt on Warriors.

But before gravity has its way with him , a warm hand reaches out and pushes between his shoulder blades. After a moment, Four’s boots finally find purchase back on the ground, stabilizing the short hero before he falls flat on his ass and slides down the small hill they are on.

“Careful,” Time says as he steps past the now steadied smith, words flat with an odd mix of weariness, irony, and humor. “It’s slippery.”

Before Four can thank the older hero for the save, there is a shout of “wait!” and two blue blurs of movement rush past Four’s other side, close enough for him to feel the splatter of water and displaced air brush against him as they do.

A trail of boisterous laughter follows behind the blurs. As the two descend down the hill, the shapes resolve themselves into Wild and Wind, one standing upright on a shield while the other rides sitting down on his like a sled.

“Yeah, Four!” Wind’s voice shouts, giggly and growing fainter as he speeds away. “It’s slippery!”

Wind and Wild’s laughs mingle and fade as they reach the foot of the hill, both boys splashing into more runoff waiting for them at the bottom. Sky and Legend, standing too close, jump back a shade too late and end up with water sprayed up onto their pants.

Well, pants and bare legs respectively.

Thats what he gets for not fucking wearing pants.

Four watches as the pink haired hero lets out a hiss, furiously (and futilely) wiping at his legs while Sky simply leans down and helps Wind up from the puddle with a fondly exasperated shake of his head.

With a roll of his eyes and a grumble, Legend steps up to Wild with a hand outstretched to ostensibly help him up as well. But, as the scarred teen reaches out to take it, Legend’s face scrunches, a smile with too many teeth splitting his face and he stomps down, throwing water into the younger hero’s face.

For a second, the smithy thinks Wild will lash out with a splash in retaliation, but the scarred teen simply wipes a hand down his face and then grins up at Legend.

Quick as a whip, Wild grabs the veteran hero’s hand with two of his own and yanks.

Legend lets out a squawk and goes face first into the water.

Wild scrambles out of the puddle and out of the danger zone of Legend’s flailing arms, laughing as he does. Wind greets him with a high five while Sky watches on with a small smile.

Hyrule steps forward to help his predecessor out while trying to quell the smile on his lips as he does. No need to piss off the pink haired hero more.

As Four watches this all unfold, Twilight finally comes to stand next to him. The man sighs and Four glances at him as they begin to trudge down the hill together. The farmhand’s shoulders slump under the weight of his sodden pelt. He looks exhausted. And he smells like wet dog.

His face is tired but as he looks at the others– Warriors, Wind, and Wild laughing, Legend glaring from over Hyrule’s shoulder, Sky and Time looking on, not offering to help in the slightest– as he looks at them, something about the elder seems to soften and the bags under his eyes seem to lighten, if only a little.

“I swear,” he says, voice airy with an exhale as he shakes his head. “Those kids are going to kill me.”

“Ah, youth,” Four agrees with a sage nod.

Twilight glances down, giving Four a dry look despite the wet hair hanging in front of his eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

…

It only takes a few moments for Four and Twilight to reach where the rest of the group waits for them.

Now that Four is paying more attention to his surroundings instead of keeping his head bowed against the rain, he can see that they are walking down into a small valley between two hill ranges.

What Four had thought was just a large puddle that Wind and Wild (and Legend) had fallen into is actually a small stream that cuts in and out around the mounds of dirt. It babbles lightly, slightly swollen with the newly added run off from the surrounding hills.

Twilight clears it in a single stride.

Show off.

Four follows, but needs a small hop to avoid the water.

Hyrule smiles as they finally draw near.

“We’re close now!” the traveling hero says. He points over the crest of the hill they stand at the foot of. “It’s just at the bottom of that hill.”

“Finally,” Legend spits, futilely wringing out his hat. He slaps the wet cloth over the back of his head with a scowl directed at Wild. The teen smiles back.

Time nods in approval. “Good. That should give us enough time to find a place to stay and gather supplies.” A single eye flicks back to Hyrule. “You said there was a hotel of some kind?”

“Yeah,” An emphatic nod from Hyrule. “There’s an abandoned house at the edge of town. The shopkeeper rents it out to travelers. There should be enough room for all of us.”

“Then let’s get a move on,” Time says, getting a nod from in response.

With the thought of a warm and dry place to stay so close, the group sets off up the hill in brighter spirits. Hyrule in particular, Four notes, strides forward with quickened steps, taking up the lead once again as he practically jogs up the hill.

Before long, they crest the hill top, giving the group the chance to finally see the town that had necessitated four hours of walking in misery.

Thats it What did you expect So small Well you heard how he talked about his Hyrule

… Town was probably too generous a word for it.

Sitting down in a nest of hills at the base of a mountain in the distance, sits fifteen or twenty buildings. They are divided by a thin river, a single arched bridge stitching the two sides of the village back together.

Surrounding the hamlet is a short and crumbling wall, mossy and coming apart at the seams. More for show than actual protection. A semblance of control, a dream of safety.

Running beside the river are small plots of land, measured out and carved into neat rows. Farms. Important for survival, but apparently not worth building houses next to. Better to stay behind the shattered cobblestone than out in the open. Safety in numbers. Not worth dying over a potato.

It’s quiet, no movement of people running to get into shelter from the rain. No children jumping in puddles or parents calling them back in from the cold.

No.

Rather, only a few lanterns are lit at all. Everything else is dark and silent.

Hyrule steps forward, a sheepish, self-deprecating smile on his face. His eyes are downcast. Embarrassed. He sweeps a hand out to the buildings, ducking low as if trying to sink out of their eye line.

“Welcome to Saria Town,” he says. His eyes flick up for a moment before returning to the ground. His painted smile drips a little in the rain. “I know it’s not much… but it’s safe.”

Next to him, out of the corner of his eye, Four can see Time tense, though at what, he can not say. Then the Old Man steps forward. “It looks perfect.”

Hyrule’s head snaps up, hazel eyes wide first in shock, before he relaxes into a grin. Time gives him a nod.

“Lead the way.”

The traveling hero nods, stepping down the hill, head held a little higher as he does. Time follows closely with Legend, Warriors, and Sky not far behind.

Four is about to join them when a voice from behind stops him.

“Don’t,” Twilight groans. Four turns back in confusion, only to see that the exasperated word wasn't directed at him but rather, the two blondes just behind him.

Four glances at the two boys, and instantly sees why.

The two are gazing intently down the hill, sizing it up. They apparently like what they see because the two grin widely at each other. The blue clad heroes hold out their shields to one another, tapping them together in a mock ‘shield high-five’.

“Race you there?” Wind asks, eyes fire bright and face pulled into a grin of challenge

“You even need to ask, Sailor?” Wild replies cockily, already tossing his shield to the ground.

“On the count of three…” Wind says. Wild steps one foot on his shield– not his Hylian shield, Four notes with some relief, but rather a long, steel gray one– and braces the other behind him, ready to throw himself forward.

“One,” Wild says. Wind places his hands on his shield, ready to jump.

“Two.” They tense.

“Don’t,” Twilight interrupts again swiping wet hair from his face as he gives them a hard look. “Someone could get–”

“THREE!”

Wild pushes off. Wind vaults forward. The two fly , twin whoops echoing through the quiet air as they descend. For a second, the two boys are lost in the joy of the moment, voices caught in that youthful inbetween of yell and laughter.

And then that second ends.

The two sober, all business. Wild leans forward on his shield, tucking his arms in to become more aerodynamic. Wind catches on to the others plot and quickly mirrors the older hero, hunkering down and shifting his weight forward to match Wild.

They’re neck and neck.

And then–

“Shit!”

The harsh crack of snapping leather echoes clear and brutal through the air. Wild’s front foot slides forward on the wet metal, no longer anchored down by the arm strap. The scarred teen throws his weight backward, trying to keep himself from falling forward while simultaneously slowing down his now out of control descent.

The metal wobbles precariously beneath Wild’s feet and then jerks sharply to the left, throwing it’s rider. With a cut off shout, he slams into the side of an helpless Wind, knocking the other boy from his shield as well. Tangled together, the two careen down the water slicked hill at a break-neck pace, headed straight for…

“Look out!” Bursts its way past Four’s lips without him even knowing.

Sky and Warriors jolt out of the way, their reaction times impeccable as always. Legend and Time reach out to grab the person in front of them…

Too late.

The two blondes slam into Hyrule’s unsuspecting back, the traveling hero only able to get out a shocked gasp before his legs are swiped out from beneath him and the three tumble in a mass of limbs, wet tunics, and pained shouts the rest of the way down the hill.

Four doesn't even need to consult his disparate thought processes. They’re already in agreement.

His feet carry him down the hill almost at a dead sprint, only the barest of thoughts spared to worry about slipping himself.

Vaguely, he can hear Twilight’s steps pounding behind him. In front of him, he can see the others sprint downward as well, Warrior’s feet even sliding beneath him before he rights himself and continues.

By the time Four slides to a stop, the others are already helping the three groaning boys.

Warriors sits up a groaning Wind. At just a glance, Four can see that the teen looks scratched, bruised, and grass stained but overall fine. Sky hands the boy a red potion that the sailor sips at, unwilling to drink more than he needs.

Wild looks much the same, though, the smithy notes that the champion is clutching at a rapidly purpling ankle. He looks more embarrassed than hurt though, his other hand rubbing at the back of his neck as Twilight chews him out and Time examines his leg.

Hyrule though…

As Legend helps the traveling hero up, Four’s eyes are immediately drawn to the thin scarlet line streaming from the brunette’s temple, the blood mixing and thinning with the rain, snaking across his cheek before dripping down his chin. A cruel mirror of the rain.

“Is he okay?” Four asks as he kneels down, unable to help himself. He reaches a hand out, the need to help and comfort slightly overwhelming, but with no clear outlet, his arm simply hovers without use.

Legend shoots Four a poisonous look that screams ‘What a dumb fucking question’ but otherwise ignores him in favor of brushing a few strands of Hyrule’s hair back so he can examine the wound closer.

Hyrule’s eyes flutter open at the gentle touch.

“M’ fine, I’m fine,” he says dizzily, swatting weakly at Legend’s prodding hand.

The veteran hero huffs out a breath, taking Hyrule’s hand and carefully pulling it out of the way as he leans in for a closer look. “Stop moving. I think you hit your head on a rock. You’re bleeding.”

Hyrule’s eyes snap open, the haziness in his hazel depths igniting with a fever bright glow. Now that his eyes are wide open, Four can see that the teen’s pupils are dilated, one a pinprick while the other gapes wide, a dark hole in a green field.

Well that can’t be good Concussion maybe even a severe one We have to help him He needs a potion now

Four takes ahold of Hyrule’s shoulder to steady the other teen and then turns to dig through his satchel for a potion.

Hyrule, apparently, has other plans.

The traveling hero jerks up and away, throwing Four’s hand off him and almost headbutting Legend in his haste to sit up more fully. He slams a hand up to his forehead, swiping directly over the wound. Pain doesn't even register on his rapidly paling face. He pulls his hand back and inspects it, mismatched pupils tracing the blood that drips from the tips of his fingers.

He stares at the red for a moment.

And then Hyrule collapses in on himself.

Both arms reach other the top of his head, wrists crossing over the back of his skull. His hands run between wet curls once gently before gripping and pulling. Knees snap upward, allowing Hyrule to curl up fully, hiding himself from their gazes.

“No, no, no no no no nonononono!” he whispers, voice and shoulders shaking.

Four’s heart breaks.

“Calm down,” Legend cuts in, voice hard as stone but eyes as soft as the dark clouds hanging over them. His hand hovers over Hyrule’s back, like he’s afraid that a single touch would shatter the boy to pieces. “It’s just a scratch,” he insists.

“No!” the traveler cries, arms dropping from their position above his head. Instead of clutching desperately at his hair, Hyrule’s hands fist into the fabric of his wet undershirt sleeves, using them to frantically scrub at the skin of his face.

With one more vicious wipe, Hyrule pulls his sleeves from his face.

Four sighs sadly at the sight.

Rather than cleaning his skin, the frantic hero has only succeeded in spreading the diluted blood all over his face. The only part of his face that could be considered ‘cleaner’ would be the tear tracks slowly drawing clear lines beneath his eyes.

The injured teen seems satisfied for a moment. But then he looks down at his now bloodied sleeves. With another distressed noise, he tucks his arms under his armpits and throws his head back against his knees, once again curling back up.

Four feels his heart pulled in so many directions. He feels warm, hot, too hot concern churn his stomach. Cool, cold, too cold anger shoves icicles into his lungs. Wind and Wild’s fault. Rain’s fault. His fault. No where to put the anger and so it grows, piercing. The need for action whistles in his mind, a whirlwind of frantic thoughts. A mountain of unfamiliar uncertainty lodges in his heart, dividing it further.

He wants to pull Hyrule into him and crush him with a hug but knows it will only frighten the boy more. He wants to clean the other’s face and hand him a potion and punch his shoulder for freaking him out and laugh about something stupid and not be here right now in the rain with a desperately injured friend feeling so fucking usless We have to do something Please Please Please We have to help!

No, what we need to do is calm down.

calmdowncalmdown Calm down Calm down, Calm down.

Calm down.

Beside him, Four can hear Legend curse under his breath and begin to shuffle through his bag, though what exactly he is looking for, the smithy isn't sure. His hands become more and more hurried as he searches, fingers flicking through his pockets aggressively.

“Calm down.”

Legend’s eyes flick up, hands stilling as he seems to see Four for the first time since this whole debacle started.

“What?” he hisses, keeping his voice low so as not to cause Hyrule more distress with his angry tone.

“Calm down,” Four says simply. “I know you want to help him. So do I. But right now he’s scared and confused. Getting upset will only make things worse.”

The veteran hero glares at Four, and Four stares right back, not challenging but not exactly sympathetic either. He knows what he’s talking about, even if it pisses off the pink haired hero. Right now, there is no room for negative emotion. Only action.

They hold eye contact for only a moment more before Legend looks away, deflating.The veteran takes a deep breath. In… out. Something, the fight, goes out of him, leaving Legend looking to all the world like a tired young man, soaked to the bone, cold, and worried.

“Hey ‘Rule,” Legend begins, voice low as he inches closer to the curled up boy. Four follows his lead, slowly shuffling his way to the injured teen’s other side. Hyrule doesn't react. A good sign.

Or a really really bad sign.

Legend carefully places his arm around the traveling hero’s shoulders. “Hyrule, can I see your head? I need to-”

But the teen shakes his head and tenses up further, looking more akin to a Goron getting ready to roll.

“The Eyes…” Hyrule’s voice whispers from between clasped arms.

“The Eyes of Ganon are everywhere.”

Somehow, the rain gets colder.

“It’s okay,” Legend says, voice the most comforting Four thinks he’s ever heard it. The pink haired man places an open bottle of red potion into the other’s outstretched hand and then helps the injured teen to curl his fingers around the glass. Legend guides Hyrule’s hand up until the bottle reaches his lips, all the while, blank hazel eyes stare forward, unshifting.

Hyrule drinks from the bottle reflexively.

Four feels the other boy’s muscles uncoil little by little as his throat bobs to swallow. Wide eyes blink once, twice, three times and then finally refocus, dizziness replaced with slightly pained confusion.

The cut on his forehead scabs over and before he can stop himself, Four reaches up and brushes the blood from the side of Hyrule’s face with his own sleeve.

“Better?” Legend asks.

“Yeah. Better,” Hyrule replies. And then, with a wince, “Sorry.”

“Don’t,” Legend cuts him off. “Not your fault.”

“Still,” Hyrule says. His eyebrows furrow, confusion easily written on his face. “I… I don't know what came over me.”

“You were injured and confused,” Four says diplomatically, giving his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Part of him still wants to hug the other hero. He valiantly holds himself back. But only just. “It could have happened to any of us.”

“But it was more than that! I felt… It felt like…” Hyrule sighs, shaking his head and then stops, closing his eyes at the surge of pain that comes with the movement. “I guess it doesn't matter anymore.”

The traveling hero gingerly runs a finger along the edge of his scab, displeasure pulling at his lips.

“Do we have any bandages? Or something to cover this up?”

“Sorry, we just used the last of them to wrap Wild's ankle.”

The three heroes start and look up, surprised to see Twilight approaching them. As he walks closer, Four notices that the others are looking at them as well, and though concerned, none of them make any moves to get closer.

Good. The last thing Hyrule needs right now is a crowd.

Four had honestly forgotten that they had an audience. Albeit a captive audience but an audience all the same.

Judging by the slightly embarrassed tint to Legend’s face, so did he.

“It doesn't look like it's bleeding anymore,” Twilight continues, leaning down to get a better look at the now mostly closed wound. “You should be fine without anything, I think.”

“I know. I just don’t like going into town injured is all.”

That seems counterintuitive. Drops like a stone in water in the back of his mind, stirring up a few responses.

Maybe he just doesn't like freaking out the locals. Suggests one.

Based on this place, they’ve probably seen worse. Mutters a second.

Oh hey, guys, I think I’ve got something! Says the last, brightly.

An image flashes in Four’s mind. He nods.

Four reaches back and pulls at one of the loose ends of his makeshift hair tie. Sopping wet curtains of hair fall back around his face, the headband that he usually wears now sitting limp in his hand.

He takes both ends of the green ribbon and pulls it taut. Then he turns and lays it flat against Hyrule’s forehead. Leaning forward a bit more, he ties it gently but securely around the other’s head, mindful of the pain the other must be in.

When he sits back on his heels to examine his work, he realises that the others had fallen silent. Legend and Twilight stare at him while Hyrule sits, a small, shell shocked expression on his face. Four’s eyes jump back and forth between the three. Eventually he settles on a shrug and a neutral face.

“What? He needs it more than me.”

While sweet, I do believe that is wildly unsanitary.

Oh no! I’m sorry!

Don't worry about it! We all agreed.

A spike of annoyance.

Well, most of us agreed and the fourth didn't put up a fight. We’re not that far out of town anyway. We can get him clean bandages there.

Way to ruin the moment, asshole.

Despite the conversation in his head, outside it remains quiet. After another beat, Hyrule slowly runs a finger across the wet cloth now ties to his forehead.

When he brings his hand back to eye level, his fingertips come back wet but clean. No blood.

A small smile lights up Hyrule’s face, some color finally returning to his face.

“Thank you.”

…

After making sure everyone is okay, the group of heroes finally, finally makes it into town.

As they stumble through the gates, Four muses that if anyone were outside to witness them, they would be getting quite a few looks. Because… Well...

We look like shit.

Leading the group is Time, probably looking the least worn for wear when compared to the rest of them. However, Four notes that even the Old Man didnt get out of their absolutely joy filled trek unscathed.

As he strides further into town, head on a swivel for the store Hyrule had described to him, the Hero of Time walks with an odd gait, shifting his hips slightly to the left as he steps forward. Water must have penetrated the underlayer of his armor Four thinks with a wince. Poor Old Man must be chafing like there is no tomorrow under there.

Behind Time stumbles the procession of the wounded.

Or something like that.

Wind and Warriors walk together, the older hero keeping an eye on the younger as they enter the heart of the seemingly deserted town. The sailor keeps tugging on his makeshift sling: Warriors’ scarf looped twice around the young boy’s neck cradling his arm. Though not broken, Warriors had not accepted anything less than making sure it was wrapped and immoble, something that had Wind groaning and whining about being babied.

Twilight and Wild shuffle behind them, the champion’s left arm thrown over Twilight’s shoulders so the farmhand can help keep weight off the younger boy’s ankle. Though no longer swelling after a potion, the joint was still sore. Wild had assured them that after a good meal and some sleep he’d be fine, but Twilight insisted on helping him walk until they found a place to rest.

(“So you can't trip and drown yourself in the river,” Twilight had said derisively as he helped the teen stand up earlier. Said teen stuck his tongue out in response, but Four could see the affectionate smile tugging at the champion’s lips.)

Bringing up the rear is the triad of Sky, Legend, and Hyrule. The latter is not supported between the other two, but both older heroes damn near frog march the poor kid between them, each with a guiding hand on his upper arm.

The still slightly dazed teen walks slowly. He is wearing one of Wild’s hoods– the teen had felt so sorry about the whole incident, he jumped at the chance to make the traveling hero more comfortable, even if only for a moment– making it difficult to tell where exactly he was looking, but he turned his head slowly, searching.

“There!” he said, pointing to a building on the left.

Four follows his arm. The building in question is one of the few with a lantern out front. On a whole, the place looks worn down, like too stiff of a breeze would knock it down. It has a small overhang, probably for shade in the summer. From the rafters of the awning, hangs an old wooden sign suspended on rusted chains. A simple bottle design is painted on the molding planks in what was probably white paint at some point, but now looks chipped and faded into a shade Four would call ‘dirty snow.’

Light streams from the singular window out front, advertising warmth within.

“Do all of the houses have these?” Time asks, finger pointed up at the overhang. Hyrule nods in response.

“Okay.” The Old Man falls silent for just a moment. “Okay, here’s the plan. Hyrule, I want you to lead everyone to the house we will be staying in for the night. We don't want to alarm anyone with our wounded and I’m assuming there won't be enough room in the storefront for everyone.” He directs his last statement to Hyrule, who nods.

“Four, Wind,” Four feels his head tilt to the side at the mention of his name and thinks he sees the sailor do the same on the other side. “You’ll be with me. Everyone else, try to stay warm under the awning if at all possible.”

“Why do the brats get to go inside?” Legend asks sourly, causing Four’s metaphorical hackles to rise. Wind opens his mouth to spit something probably filled with expletives, at the other hero, but Time beats him to it.

“What kind of father would I be if I left my poor, injured sons outside in the rain?” He says, with what Four would call a mischievous smile on his face. If his bad eye wasn’t perpetually closed, Four would assume the Old Man would be winking at them too.

Maybe he is winking and we just can’t see it.

How does that work?

Aww, he called us his son!

Wait a minute…

“Now, hold on,” Four says, drowned out by six distinct laughs.

“I did NOT agree to be used as a prop!” Wind hisses above the din in agreement with Four’s sentiment, eyebrows pulled low and a glower plastered over his face. Yeesh, Four forgot how expressive Wind’s face was. Kid looks pissed.

Time raises his hands in surrender, his smile turning from mischief to frank in a second.

"Look, these people are scared. It’s a harsh world out there. If you were a shopkeep in a small town and nine heavily armed people entered demanding a place to stay, wouldn't that frighten you a little?” He doesn't wait for a response before continuing. “A father with his sons and a small band of injured travelers is a much easier story to swallow.”

“If you want to play the father, why don’t you take Twilight then?” Four asks, his voice somehow coming out both huffy and genuinely questioning. “You two at least look like you have a little bit of family resemblance.”

Time and Twilight share a look.

The oldest hero throws a hand behind his head, rubbing at his neck. Eyebrows up, smile sheepish. “Bringing in a soaking wet, pissed off farmhand wont make for quite as sympathetic a image.”

“You’re a manipulative bastard, you know that, right?” Legend says flatly.

“What? What do you mean?” Wind asks.

“He wants to bring the two of you in because you,” he points at Four, “look like a drowned rat. And you,” he turns to Wind, “look like a drowned rat with a broken arm.”

"Why don’t I break your arm? Then we’ll match!” Wind spits, marching over to Legend, who sports an unimpressed look on his face. Warriors grabs the back of the smaller hero’s sling, holding him back.

Four blows out a breath from between his lips, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

They, unfortunately, have a point.

You would be okay with lying.

If it’s to help everyone else, then yes, I am.

It’s demeaning!

It’s useful.

Four pinches harder. His head pounds.

Guys. Stop.

Please!

A blessed moment of internal silence.

Four can vaguely hear Wind telling Warriors to let him go. Wild eggs the younger boy on while Twilight threatens to drop the teen if he continues. Legend merely huffs, probably daring the kid to make good on his words. Time sternly tells them to keep it down, probably thinking of the townsfolk or Hyrule’s delicate head.

They ignores it all.

They take stock of how they feel. Angry. Loved. Embarrassed. Annoyed. Regretful. Tired. Hungry. Cold. Bruises on their knee, grass stains on their leggings. A friend’s blood on their sleeve. A splitting headache, but thankfully not a Splitting headache.

They’re not in a good place. Fighting will only make it worse.

Fine… I see your point…

Four’s hand pulls at the leather strap securing his sword to his back, pulling it over his head and off his shoulder. He wraps the worn leather around and around the sword, making sure the strap doesn't come loose and then he holds the blade out to a now silent and very confused looking Wild.

“Uhhhhh,” the champions says, “What are you doing?”

“If we are going to pretend to be normal kids, I figured we probably shouldn’t be armed.”

Four holds out the sword more insistently. Wild takes it gingerly, like it will bite him if he handles it too roughly. Or like it’ll break if he looks at it wrong. With his track record, that could actually be an issue.

“If you break it, I’ll break you,” Four hears pour out of his mouth with a hiss, and he wonders if his eyes are flashing cobalt at the moment.

Based on the way Wild’s eyes widen, Four guesses they are. Whatever. If it keeps the champion’s mitts off his sword, it's worth the weirdness. He knows the other teen can’t actually break the Four Sword– he’s too good a smith to make the magic sword that defined his era anything less than perfect– but he sure as hell doesn't want the teen touching it more than necessary either.

What a nightmare that would be.

Wind huffs, seeming to calm a bit. Warriors lets the teen go and the sailor strides up next to Four, roughly unstrapping his own sword and shoving it at Wild as well. It disappears with Four’s own, into the slate.

There is something about seeing his sword disappear, the ever present option suddenly taken away, that makes Four’s skin feel too tight. It’s like when you never realise you’re thirsty until suddenly you're out and about with nothing to drink. He feels itchy and too small. He wants to scratch at his head. No, the seams of his brain.

He stays his hand.

Legend rolls his eyes and turns away from the group, apparently done with the scene they’re making. He places a gentle hand back on Hyrule’s shoulder. The pressure seems to jolt the other hero, who until that moment had been spacing out.

“Lead the way. The sooner we can get everyone out of the rain the better.”

Hyrule nods. Sky takes up his old position at the traveler’s other side, and together the three start heading toward the bridge.

Wild throws his arm back over Twilights shoulder.

“I’ll take care of your stuff,” he says sincerely and then the two turn to follow the others at a slightly slower pace.

“Watch out for them?” Time asks Warriors as the other man turns to leave.

“Will do!” The captain shoots back with a smile and a salute then he’s gone, around the corner and out of sight.

With the others taken care of, Time turns back to look at them. Four keeps his face as stony as possible. Next to him, Wind scowls, tapping one foot on the ground repeatedly, a soft splat splat splat in the mud.

Time moves past them until he stands just in front of the door before he throws a look over his shoulder and beckons them forward.

“Oh, he so owes us,” Wind mutters as he and Four come to stand at the oldest hero’s side. Four nods in agreement.

“I’ll do most of the talking,” Time says. He glances down at Four. “You’re much too mature sounding for your own good.”

Before Four can ask what, exactly, that’s supposed to mean, Time has moved on to Wind. “And you keep your hands–hmm– hand to yourself. I know you have sticky fingers, little pirate.”

With that, the man pushes the door open and walks in.

“Don’t throw out your back opening the door, Dad,” Wind grumbles, sarcasm dripping from the final word.

“You’ll have to speak up, dear brother of mine. You know our father’s hearing is going.” Four mutters back.

They share a sour look for a moment, before small smiles break over their faces. Then quickly, before the door closes, they follow Time inside.

Inside, it is warm. While Four isn't exactly thrilled with the part he is playing, the warmth of the room is definitely an upside to the deal. Inside, it is also cramped. Like Time had predicted, the front room is small, with little room between the door and the counter, very much unlike his own shop.

Behind the counter, a woman’s humming is suddenly cut short at the sound of the door opening and closing. A head of mousy brown hair perks up and glances over the desk. There is a soft gasp and a smack as she drops what she was doing behind the desk and straightens up with wide and curious, amber eyes.

Interesting color.

Please, like we’re one to talk.

“Hello!” She greets cheerfully, though Four thinks he sees her eyeing Time’s sword. Huh. Though he misses it like a phantom limb, maybe it was for the best he left the Four Sword with Wild.

“I haven’t seen you all around here before. What can I do you for?”

Time smiles, charming but not too charming. Less flirty, more the rustic hospitality of a rancher. A real man of the people and all that nonsense.

“We’re just passing through. My sons and I were traveling with a group of merchants when we got caught in the storm. We ran into some problems,” Time says, gesturing to Wind and his slinged arm, “and now we’re just hoping to find somewhere to get us out of the rain.”

The woman gasps, a hand coming up to cup around her mouth.

“Oh you poor dears!” The woman exclaims. She leans over the desk–practically falling over it– to get a better look at Wind, who leans backward in response. “What happened?”

“I, uhhhhh, slipped and fell down a hill,” Wind says, taking a small step back.

The woman’s head snaps toward Four next, and suddenly, the smithy understands the other’s reaction. Her amber eyes are intense, burning with something unidentifiable. Maternal instinct? Maybe? Four wouldn’t know. Never really knew his mother.

“And what about you, dear?”

Four’s eyebrows furrow. He didn't think he looked all that bad. Definitely not visibly injured like the others. He glances down at himself to make sure nothing is out of place and– oh. The blood on his sleeve. Hyrule’s blood. Right.

“I cut myself on a bush,” Four lies smoothly.

“Hmmm, you have a couple of clumsy boys then,” the shopkeep says, eyes still locked on Four.

Okay, she’s freaky, right? Oh yeah Maybe she’s just bad at first impressions I wouldn't say we’re the best judge of normal anyway

Time laughs. Four thinks the Old Man is trying to sound agreeable, but it sounds more nervous. No. That’s not quite right. Uneasy. Ready to be done with the interaction and back with the others.

“They get it from me, unfortunately,” he says, making an aborted motion toward his face, his eye.

There is a beat of silence.

“So,” Time continues, “A place to stay…?”

The woman blinks, finally tearing her gaze from Four and leaning back onto her side of the counter. A kind smile slides its way back onto her face, like it’s her default expression.

“Yes. Yes of course. Just a moment.” She turns away, shifting through a drawer on the back counter. While she’s not looking, Wind shoots Four a look, face scrunched in question and good hand drawing small circles next to the side of his head.

Four shrugs in response.

Time smacks both of them on the back of their heads as the woman turns back around.

“Here we are,” the woman holds out a key, old and rusty. Time reaches into his wallet but the shopkeep shakes her head. “No, no. This one’s on the house. For your troubles.”

“We couldn’t possibly-”

“It’s no trouble at all,” She insists. “Old place could use some life in it after so long.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” Time says uncertainly. “Can I at least buy a few of those in thanks?” he asks gesturing to the shelf of red potions.

The woman smiles. “Seems fair to me.”

Time finally pulls out some rupees, exchanging them for five bottles filled with scarlet, viscous liquid and the key.

With their business seemingly concluded, Wind and Four turn to see themselves out, but Time grabs them, holding them in place.

Four restrains a groan. Though he had enjoyed the warmth when they had first entered, now it felt heavy and oppressive in a way that even the heat of the forge never did. There was something about this place that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his head feel fuzzy. Like he was being watched; watched by something other than the shopkeeper’s piercing amber gaze.

He wants to leave. Now.

“One more question if you wouldn’t mind,” the Old Man starts to Four’s chagrin. “While we plan to stay a few days to rest, we will be heading out at some point. We heard that there were increased monster sightings.”

The shopkeeper's head tilts at this, as though this is news to her.

“We were wondering if there was anyone we could talk to who might have some more information. Locations of sightings and the like so we can avoid those areas.”

She brings a hand to her chin and her eyes angle up and to the left in thought.

“Hmmm, well, you could go ask old Norman. He runs the bar in town. Gets lots of travelers through there. He might have heard of something.”

A smile suddenly stretches her lips. “Though he doesn't often talk for free. He might loosen up if you have a few drinks with him.”

Time nods at the information, sending her a smile in return.

“Thank you for all the help.”

The woman waves him off.

“My pleasure.”

They turn to leave and Four feels some tension leave his shoulders as Time grabs the doorknob and turns it, opening the door wide. Cold air rushes in and the smithy feels like he can breathe again.

“And kid.”

Both Four and Wind tense, look at each other and then turn. Her eyes are pinned firmly on the shortest hero’s sleeve; right over the dark stain of slowly blackening crimson. That odd, default smile still on her lips.

“Bandage that up soon, deary.”

Four nods his head rapidly and then quickly walks out the door to follow Time with Wind hot on his heels.

Though out of the room, Four still feels eyes on his back. He doesn't dare look around. Instead the smithy walks faster until he draws side by side with the older hero. Wind soon catches up, walking on Time’s other side.

As soon as they are far enough from the shop, Wind opens his mouth.

“Soooo, she was freaky right?” Time shoots him a look. “Nice, but like, in a freaky kinda way?”

Four nods, wordlessly.

“She was kind to us. That’s all that matters,” Time says sternly. “Now, let's find the others and get inside.”

…

Thankfully, it is not difficult to find the others. It is, afterall, a very small town.

After a quick debate over who gets the old, musty beds and who gets the floor– all of the injured heroes get beds and sips of Red Potion along with their dinner of Hearty Mushroom and Pumpkin Stew– the heroes quickly turn in for the night, tired from their long day.

By the time Four wakes up, light is streaming through the windows. Huh. It must have stopped raining sometime during the night. Based on the color of the rays, it’s past sunrise. Way past sunrise if their warm, yellow glow is anything to go by.

The smithy sits up from his bed roll, blanket pooling around his waist as he looks around.

Beside him, Sky sleeps peacefully, under his blanket but with limbs sprawled out. His mouth is open and he snores softly, deep, even breaths murmuring through the air.

In the small kitchen, Time, Legend, Twilight, and Warriors sit at the table, mugs of something warm and steaming in their hands as they talk. Their conversation doesn’t appear to be serious or even really a conversation at all. One hero will contribute something every so often, but as Four watches them, more often than not, the older heroes seem content to lapse in companionable silence.

Four disentangles himself from Sky. He's glad he doesn have to worry about waking the elder– the chosen hero sleeps like the dead– so he separates himself quickly and then pads quietly over to the kitchen.

“You let us sleep in,” he says in lieu of a greeting, taking the final seat at the table. Legend pours him a mug of the drink, which he discovers to be tea, and passes it into Four’s hands. Four takes a sip.

Ah perfect Too bitter Needs some milk Maybe a little honey

He breathes in the steam, letting it fill his lungs with herbal smelling air as warmth seeps into his stomach.

“The only thing on the schedule for today is going down to the bar and that won’t open until sometime after noon,” Time replies. “Besides, I thought everyone could use a rest after yesterday.”

“Hear hear,” Warriors agrees with a raised mug. Everyone takes a sip.

After that, the group falls back into a relaxed silence that Four has no trouble maintaining. Instead he sits and sips his tea, drinking in the rare moment of peace he finds himself experiencing.

Eventually, slowly but surely, the other trickle in: first Wild, then Hyrule, and then ending with a yawning Wind who trips over and wakes the still sleeping Sky.

After a quick breakfast, Time sets them loose for a bit of leisure time.

Warriors quickly demands a rematch in BS from Legend, who acquiesces with an easy, confident grin. The two rope in Twilight and Wind and sit around the now empty kitchen table with Legend quickly distributing cards. Looking at the makeup of the group, Four would say that Warriors has approximately a 5% chance of winning. Maybe 6% if he’s lucky.

Time and Wild take opposite corners of the living room, with the Old Man sitting down to polish his armor while the champion taps away at his slate, reorganizing his inventory.

(Wild had told him the night before that taking his and Wind’s swords had made the older hero realise how unorganized everything was. Pumpkins with shields, fish with monster parts…. Four really hadn't been listening, too preoccupied with the familiar, comforting weight being returned to his back)

Sky leans against the back wall whittling… something. Four wasn't sure what it was yet but based on what he saw of the chosen hero’s talent with a carving knife, he was sure it would be great by the end.

Four curls up next to the fire, book in hand to read.He opens the book and leafs through the pages to his desired chapter, settling in. After a few moments and a few pages, a green ribbon flutters and settles itself inside the crease of the book. His headband. The smithy looks up just in time to catch Hyrule as the other hero sits next to him, needle, thread and a tunic in hand to do some mending.

"You kept tucking your hair behind your ear," he says in lieu of an explanation. "You need it more than me."

"Besides," the traveler continues, with a smile. "Now it doesn't have my blood on it anymore!"

Four smiles back, tying the cloth around his forehead, his hair finally tamed once more.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

The small hero leans back over his book. Hyrule holds the needle up to his eye, trying to thread it.

They sit together, chatting every so often but mostly just sitting in each other's company, warmed by the fire.

It's nice. The room is quiet but full of murmuring, laughter from the card table, and the rhythmic sound of scrubbing.

To Four, it seems all too soon that Time calls them back around the table to discuss their plan.

And their plan, unfortunately, is complete bullshit.

“This is complete bullshit!” Wind hisses, voicing Four’s thoughts perfectly. Well, at least one of his thoughts.

“Wind,” Time says, voice that of a tired man who already knows his patience is going to be tried at least twelve more times over the course of this conversation. “You’re thirteen. They’re not going to let you into the bar anyway.”

“That just means I can’t be caught! I can still go on the mission!” he replies vehemently, pounding a fist on the table.

Time rubs at a spot between his eyebrows, just underneath the blue tattoo on his forehead. “First of all, what you are describing is breaking and entering. Secondly, this isn't a mission. We’re just going to get some information.”

“Oh, and I suppose you need four people to gather information?” Wild cuts in, face just as sour as Wind’s.

“Well, we sure as Hylia don't need nine,” Warriors replies in a similar state of exasperation as Time.

“Look, the four of us,” and here Time gestures to himself, Warriors, Twilight, and Sky, “Are the only ones who can get in without any questions asked.”

Wild and Legend let even heavier glowers darken their faces.

“We want to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible,” Time continues, ignoring the dirty looks being thrown his way. “Coming in with a big group or trying to argue with anyone will not help our case.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don't plan on drinking anything,” Sky puts in with a genuine expression of concern. Twilight slaps a hand to his tattoo, shaking his head.

“That’s not the point!” Wind huffs.

Time and Warriors share a look, which is then passed over to Twilight. The farmhand just shakes his head and the other two sigh.

“You were fine with splitting up before,” Warriors tries. “If this was just a run to the shop you wouldn’t fight so hard to come. What’s going on?”

“I’m tired of being treated like a kid. You all laughed at me and Four earlier!” The sailor says, chest puffed out. Four isn't sure if he should feel touched or offended that the younger hero feels the need to stick up for him. Whatever. He’ll figure it out later.

“And! And...” Wind looks lost for a second, like the air just went out of his sails. “I… Something just feels off. I don’t know.”

“I feel it too,” Four puts in, remembering the feeling of eyes on his back and prickling at his neck. Watching. Waiting. “I would feel better if we accompanied you as well.”

“And how do you suppose you do that?” Time asks, not exactly unkindly but with little sympathy in his words.

Well, the smallest hero can think of a way he could sneak in unnoticed. He had felt the presence of a portal near the center of town when they walked in. The others…

Silence reigns over the kitchen for a moment.

“Then that’s settled then,” Time says with finality. No room for argument.

Wind slumps a little, eyes going to the floor.

Without anything more to say, Time and Twilight head toward the door. As he passes by the sailor, Warriors gives the teen a soft punch on the shoulder and a quick smile.

“We’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll tell you all about it when we get back,” Sky reassures.

And then, with a swing of the door, they’re gone.

It is quiet for a moment, Wind staring at the now closed door.

Then he turns to face them, the disappointment dropping off his face like water off the back of a Zora. All business.

“So we’re going after them, right?” He asks.

Four feels a slow smile grow on his face and sees it mirrored by the others. Legend nods approvingly.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, kid.”

…

They wait a few minutes inside the house to let the others reach their destination before they sneak out. Hyrule, still feeling sensitive to the light– though Four also senses that the teen is probably feeling a small flare for the dramatic– leads them with Wild’s hood pulled over his head.

Once they cross the bridge into the other side of town where the bar is, the traveling hero pulls them behind one of the houses where there is a large break in the cobblestone wall protecting the town.

One by one, they slip through the crack. It leads them to a small, thin walkway in the space between the edge of a cliff leading up to Death mountain and the cobblestone. They have to sidle, backs against the crumbling stone, to move at all. It’s a little slowgoing, and more than a little uncomfortable, but it lets them move through town unseen.

Eventually, they come to another break and they shove their way through, coming out behind two buildings.

“How did you even know about this way?” Legend asks with a gasp as he squeezes through the gap in the stone.

“Oh you know,” Hyrule says, his smile peeking out from the shade of Wild’s hood, “When you get lost easily, sometimes you gotta find your own way.”

Legend shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the younger’s antics but doesn't comment.

The highest compliment he can give. Dry like the desert and so correct that Four almost nods at the comment.

“Okay, what exactly is the plan here?” Wild asks.

“Wow. I never thought I’d see the day you actually think before you act,” Legend replies with a single raised eyebrow.

Aaaaand he’s back.

Before Wild can grumble out a response, Legend continues. “I’m assuming the plan is sneak in, keep an eye out, and then get out in time to beat them back to the house.”

“Now,” Legend says, sweeping a critical eye over all of them. “How are you all getting in?”

“What about you?” Four asks, picking up on Legend’s odd word choice.

“Me?” he says in response, a cocky smirk on his face. “Well, I’ve got this.”

The veteran hero places his left hand on the wall of the building. Suddenly the golden bracelet on his wrist flares to life, the purple eye engraved on the band flashing brightly. Swirls of green and yellow magic twine around Legend’s body, gently shifting his red tunic. On the wall, green lines draw themselves into what looks like a painting frame.

The vines of magic tighten themselves around Legend pulling him closer, closer, into the wall and in a flash of light, Legend is gone.

Behind where he was standing, on the wall, sits a bold lined, chalk-like drawing of the hero.

The drawing’s oval shaped eyes snap open and a single line cuts across the bottom half of its face, curling up at its edges. A smile.

In a flash of purple, Legend exits the wall. He leans back against it, smug grin still in place as he observes their shocked expressions.

“So back to my question: how are you all getting in?”

Four’s eyes glance around their small group. Hyrule seems to be looking away, hood pointed downward toward the ground. Wild pulls out his slate and holds it up in front of his eyes, head sweeping back and forth, up and down as he searches for something. Wind meanwhile, scans around, eyes squinted.

The sailor’s eyes widen at the same time Wild makes a small noise of excitement.

“There!” They exclaim, both pointing at a spot higher up on the wall.

Sure enough, when Four follows their hands, he can see a metal grate cover what looks to be a small air vent. He has a few built into the back of his own house to help release steam and smoke from the forge without it entering the rest of the home, but can't help wondering what exactly its utility is here.

The two teens share a quick high five and then Wild begins swiping away at the screen. In the blink of an eye, the champion’s sky blue tunic and tan pants are replaced with navy blue leggings and a tight and lightly armored shirt with a red eye in the middle. A slim, white scarf wraps itself around the teens neck, leading up to his face which is partially covered with another piece of navy blue fabric clinging over the champion’s nose and mouth.

Wind, meanwhile, rummages around inside his Spoils Bag for a moment– with an alarming amount of dangerous sounding clanging, Four notices with some worry– before pulling out a grappling hook.

Using one hand to hold onto the slack and the other to spin the metal end, Wind winds up and with a final definitive swing, releases the hook end, launching it upward toward the roof. The hook skitters across the wooden shingles of the roof, a few of the more rotten tiles coming loose before the metal catches and holds.

Wind tests it a few times, pulling on the rope hard before he is satisfied.

“Okay,” Legend says as Wild finishes pulling the metal grate from the wall with his Magnesis Rune. “Three down. Two to go.”

Four glances at Hyrule who stares right back at him, as though waiting for the smithy to make the next move. Though the hood is obscuring part of his face, Four swears the other looks… nervous.

Maybe we aren’t the only one with something to hide.

Either way, this isn’t going to work.

Hey! We’re losing time here people!

You might be onto something there...

Four sighs. “Look, we’re already losing time. You three go in, Hyrule and I will figure it out.”

Legend looks like he wants to argue but with a flash of hazel from underneath a hood, he drops it.

“Fine. If we need to leave, I’ll give this signal,” The veteran says as he holds up two fingers and then flicks them downward twice.

“And if we have to fight?” Wind asks, face serious once more.

“You’ll know that signal when you see it,” Legend says.

With a final nod, the pink haired hero sinks into the wall, becoming a drawing once more. Large, circular eyes, flick over the group one more time before he’s off, walking along the wall until he disappears through a crack between the backdoor and its frame.

Using the rope, the two blond teens quickly make their way up to the vent. Wind delves inside first, crawling easily through the opening in the wall. Wild follows closely behind, throwing a hand out to give a wave to Four and Hyrule before he too disappears from sight.

“So, I’m going to just, uh,” Hyrule starts once everyone is out of sight, pointing to the left of the building.

Four cuts him off. “No need to explain. I’ll meet you in there.”

Hyrule flashes him a thankful smile and then jogs around the corner of the building and away from Four’s eyeline.

“Oh yeah,” Four’s voice says to no one in particular as he turns around the opposite corner of the bar. “Definitely hiding something.”

“Pot meet kettle,” His voice replies in the darkness of the alley way.

…

Four isn't sure whether he should feel grateful or concerned about the fact that the bar seems to have a rat problem.

On the one hand, he muses as he pulls himself up onto a ledge containing a few decorative pots, it had made it very easy to get into the building; simply enter the rat hole and follow the tunnel to an opening out into the main room.

On the other hand, his friends are patrons of said establishment. And even though Four knows rats are relatively hygienic– And cute!– he can't help but shutter as he watches Warriors eat a piece of bread.

Regardless, it had been very easy to enter the bar once he was the size of a minish.

Easy to enter, easy to find his friends.

From his vantage point on a relatively high shelf situated near the front of the room, Four can see almost the entire layout of the bar.

Quietly playing cards near the door are two older men, regulars Four would guess by their relaxed nature and easy smiles. Near the left corner in a small alcove sits an ancient looking woman, slumped over and nursing a half-full bottle of something red.

The people that Four is actually interested in, however, seem to have split themselves up. To cover more metaphorical ground or to appear less intimidating, Four would assume.

Sky and Warriors have taken a small table for themselves, a loaf of bread and some butter between them. There is a half full tankard in Warriors’ hand and a completely full one in Sky’s, with the former jeering on the latter to drink. The chosen hero gives a sheepish smile and takes a sip, foam sticking to his upper lip causing Warriors to break out in laughter.

Though jovial and loud, Four can see that the captain’s eyes are clear and bright. Not buzzed, then, simply acting. Making himself seem like an easy target. Someone to underestimate. Smart.

Twilight and Time, meanwhile, sit at the bar talking. Four can see that they too seem to have drinks in their hands, but neither man appears to have had any yet. Polite purchases then.

From his position on the front wall, Four can also make out the exit of the vent that Wind and Wild were using. Though dark, the smithy thinks he might see some movement behind the grate, but other than that, the two don't give themselves away.

Legend is being similarly sneaky.

While Four had been too late to see the other move into position, after quite a bit of searching, he can just make out a singular outlined eye peeking from behind a stack of crates in the other corner of the bar.

Figures. Four should have known that Legend would be good at this sort of thing.

A soft scuffling sound in the rafters draw’s Four’s eyes upward. At first, the smithy wonders if perhaps there were some Minish up there that he had somehow missed on his first pass through the building. But then, a ball of pink light flashes from between the wooden support beams, moving frantically up, down, and around the rafters.

A fairy huh How did one get lost in here Oh poor thing must be so confused

Eventually, however, the fairy seems to settle down, the pink light landing on one of the beams and simply resting there.

Four leaves it be.

Besides, he has more important things to worry about instead of a wayward magical entity. Notably, Hyrule’s absence.

He should be here by now, right? Crashes into his brain like an errant wave.

Maybe he’s already here and we just can't see him? Flares back, the statement tilting upward into a concerned question by the end

He is the most magically adept. Who knows what he has up his sleeve. A steady breeze. Comforting.

“What? Not good enough for you?” A gruff voice breaks through Four’s mind, bringing him back to the present.

He follows the voice until his eyes land back at the bar. There, the bartender is eyeing Time and Twilight, top lip pulled up in a distasteful snarl. The man is middle aged, pot-bellied and balding, with a thin semi-circle of salt and pepper hair at the crown of his head. Bushy brows are aimed downward as he levels a purposeful look to their still filled cups.

Twilight takes a big sip and then nods his head approvingly. Time merely smiles at the man.

“Sorry, we got a bit caught up in our conversation.”

The bartender grunts in response, and then turns to begin organising the multicolored bottles lined against the back wall. Twilight shoots Time a look and shrugs. The older hero sighs and nods.

Then, the two heroes clink their cups together and throw their heads back while chugging, both polishing off their drinks in a matter of seconds. Twilight's nose wrinkles at the taste and Time’s good eye twitches minutely.

Four winces in sympathy. His grandfather had let him steal sips of beer before. He knows what it tastes like.

Seriously. The things they do to protect Hyrule.

Time knocks lightly but politely on the bar. The man turns back, with first a surprised and then a considering look on his face as he sees the now empty cups.

“Another round, please,” Time says.

“And one here too, if you would!” Warriors calls out, slapping Sky on the back for a job well done. Two empty cups sit at their small table.

The bartender nods, his lips minutely twitching upward as he sets about gathering their cups and refilling them. As the man passes out from behind the bar to grab the mugs from the other two’s table, Time sends the captain a look, which is returned with a wink.

Four settles in against one of the pots, the cool ceramic sinking through his tunic and cooling his back.

This is gonna get interesting.

…

And interesting it was. After the second round of drinks, Sky taps out. Well, he taps out in so much as he slumps over the table, face down and breathing deeply.

After his drinking buddy conks out, Warriors moves to the bar, taking the stool on Twilight’s other side, sandwiching the farmhand in the middle of the two oldest heroes.

It is after the three finish their third round that the bartender seems to warm up to them. Well, at least Four thinks the bartender has warmed up to them. He had gone from outright glaring at the heroes to only offering the occasional huff of irritation combined with polite if stilted conversation.

It’s progress. Kind of.

“So, you four are from out of town then?” he asks, nodding toward the sleeping Sky to indicate him in the group as well.

Time nods, taking another sip from his cup. “My sons and I were traveling the roads when we came across their merchant group.” He says as he shoves an elbow lightly into Twilight’s side, causing the foaming head of the younger man’s drink to spill over onto the pelted hero’s fingers.

Twilight simply glares at the old man, but the action leaves Four staring at the group intently. Only three drinks in and already losing spatial awareness…?

“We thought it would be safer to travel together, what with all the monster sightings,” Warriors picks up, sending a quick look to Time.

“Wise,” the man says with a nod. Then his face darkens and he all but slams the cup he had been cleaning back onto the bar. “Especially now that that damn brat of a hero up and vanished,” he says with a hiss, eye bright and lips pulled back in distaste. “Fucking coward.”

Four feels his blood go cold at the comment. Anger rises in him, an unstoppable tide of emotion roiling in his chest and begging to slam upward and out of his throat with a nasty comment. He beats down the instinct, pressing himself more fully against the pot behind him. Grounding.

Time’s face goes hard and cold. Twilight’s hand tightens minutely on the handle of his cup. The jovial light leaves Warriors eyes for a moment, before the captain plasters an understanding smile back on his face.

Above him, Four notices that the scuffling from the fairy has resumed but the smithy doesn't pay it any mind. Instead, the small Link takes another quick glance around the bar. Same men in front. Same lady in the alcove. Same Sky dozing peacefully at the table. Still no sign of Hyrule.

Maybe it’s better that way.

“He probably has a lot to do, taking care of the other villages and such. I’m sure he’s trying his best,” Warriors grits out with a smile, trying to strike the delicate balance between defending their friend and trying not to appear too contradictory to the man they were trying to get information out of.

The man just rolls his eyes and grunts back.

“Anyway,” Time cuts in, obviously trying to get the conversation back on track , “Have you heard much about these monster sightings? We wanted to make sure to avoid anywhere too dangerous on our way out.”

“Leaving so soon?” The bartender asks.

“Unfortunately yes. My sons and I were hoping to get home as soon as possible.”

“And we were hoping to be headed to our destination tomorrow, providing the weather holds,” Twilight says.

Four watches as a smile pulls at the bartender’s lips. It looks more like a grimace and Four wonders if the man even knows how to express any form of emotion other than irritation.

“Well then,” he says, gathering up the heroes’ cups. He turns to the back wall and pulls out the small barrel he had been using to fill their drinks and pours, filling the cups back up to the brim.

“We really shouldn’t–” Time tries to get out, but the man ignores him, instead sliding the glasses back in front of the three. Then, he quickly turns back to the bottles on the back wall and selects one for himself, pouring the red liquid into a cup and holding it out.

“To safe travels,” he announces.

“To safe travels,” the three heroes chorus back, with less enthusiasm, holding up their own glasses.

And then the four drink.

And as they drink, Four watches as the bartender’s eyes remain locked on the heroes, watching to see them finish their drinks.

Four feels his blood go as cold as the pot behind him.

Shit.

Time and Twilight almost throw the cups from their lips, disgusted expressions on their faces as they do.

Warriors, having stood up to take the biggest swig of the three, slams his glass down and coughs. As he tries to get a handle on his breathing his knees begin to shake. The captain sits back heavily onto his stool, a dizzy expression pulling at his handsome features.

“That one…” Warriors starts before his tongue seems to get tied. His eyebrows furrow and he blinks his eyes a few times, trying to clear them. “That one tasted different,” he finishes, sounding like he was speaking through numb lips.

“Oh it would,” the bartender admits easily, turning his back on the heroes to push the barrel back into place. “A higher dosage will do that to a drink.”

Time and Twilight slam themselves away from the bar, mirroring each other as they clumsily pull their swords from their scabbards. Warriors trips over his stool as he follows them, but instead of pulling out his own weapon, stumbles toward a table. His old table.

“S-Sky!” he slurs urgently, shoving at the chosen heroes shoulder. “Wake up!”

Sky’s face doesn't even twitch. His breathing remains deep and even. Unnaturally so.

In the front of the bar, the two men playing cards have stopped their game, once relaxed smiles going sharp and wide. They stand, cards forgotten as they slowly approach the heroes, hands turning to claws as they close in.

The woman from the alcove straightens and for the first time Four can clearly see her face. Her nose is large and flat against her face, nostrils flared. Her eyes are wide apart and yellow, without pupils. Where her mouth should be is instead a muzzle, full of sharp teeth and dripping the red substance she had been drinking earlier.

Blood. One part of his mind supplies helpfully.

Her once hylian looking ears grow and grow and grow until they are massive, pointing upward and ridged on the inside. She stands on thin, spindly limbs and two wings pull themselves from her back, the membrane between the– fingers? They appear to be keese people so technically wouldn’t those be fingers? But they're on her back? I don't think that's important right now!– the membrane between the ridges of her wings are thin and clearly veined in the firelight of the bar.

The man behind the bar turns back to the heroes, having undergone a similar transformation, a gleeful smile showing off fangs.

Warriors, unable to rouse Sky, instead pulls the young man from the stool and drags his body to Twilight and Time’s side. That accomplished, the captain tries to pull himself to his feet, but his knees fail him, leaving him slumped on the floor with his back against the bar and an unconscious Sky next to him. He grabs the Master Sword from Sky’s back and holds it in front of himself defensively.

Time and Twilight flank themselves on either side of the incapacitated heroes, though Four notes with mounting horror that they are not uneffected by the drink either. Twilight keeps shaking his head,trying to clear his vision and Time’s grip on his sword looks weak, like the blade is too heavy for his arm.

We have to get in there! A tsunami of anger and fear sending his heart jumping from his chest to his brain to his stomach to his ribs.

We need a plan first! Blisters back, a whirlwind of thoughts tearing at Four’s brain as he tries to run through options. He needs a portal. Now.

He focuses on the old magic he knows so well, letting the bubbling feeling of its energy settle in his chest. It crackles under his ribs, a fire sparking at fresh wood, filling him with warmth. Slowly, the sparks pull inward, filling his lungs with popping energy. He breathes out, the sparks flying up and out and leading him forward. And… there!

Down in the alcove the old keese-woman had been occupying, a lone blue and white pot sits, tipped on its side.

Go Go Go Go Gogogogogogogo!

Wait! Screeches a third, a bolt of lightning splitting a tree, the thought spreading through his mind like a forest fire. The others! What about the signal?

Four’s eyes flash down toward the corner Legend was occupying.

The hero turned drawing has pulled himself out from behind the boxes, now his entire head and one arm visible. His hand moves frantically, palm facing out. He cycles through four positions over and over and over again, hand shaking slightly back and forth, as though making sure he catches only the attention of those who might be looking at him.

He holds up three fingers. Then he curls his hand into a fist, thumb resting outside the fist against the pointer finger. His pinky then sticks out, the thumb coming to rest over his other three fingers. Finally, his hand clenches back into a fist, thumb tucked under the pointer finger, it’s tip sticking out from the knuckles of his hand.

W-A-I-T

Screw that! We need to help them now!

No, Legend is right. If we jump in now, we could compromise the situation. Make them angrier. More likely to fight. If they think they have the upper hand, they may let something slip.

And if we wait for the signal, at least we know one other person is jumping in with us. A more coordinated assault.

Four’s hand twitches over the pommel of the Four Sword, a finger tracing the gem there. He draws the blade but just holds it at the ready. A compromise.

“What did you put in our drinks?” demands Time as he levels the Biggoron sword at the bartender. The man? Keese? laughs with a squeaky voice, the sound grating on Four’s ears.

“Just something to help you relax,” he says, amber eyes alight with satisfaction. “It seemed to have worked just fine on your friend there, but you three needed a larger dose. I’m honestly impressed.”

Using two clawed fingers, he pushes the sword away from his face, grin widening as Time’s grip on the pommel falters.

“Stop playing with your food and cut to the chase,” hisses a new voice impatiently.

Across from him, the grate over Wind and Wild’s hiding place rattles. Four clamps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from shouting out.

I knew it Just as I suspected Well shit But she seemed so nice!

And low and behold, the woman from the shop emerges from the back room, nose flat and flared, massive ears back in anger and amber eyes lacking pupils.

“You.” Time says, words coming from between gritted teeth. He brings his other hand up, now using both arms to hold up the sword. Beside him, Twilight’s blinks are getting longer and slower as he faces down the three monsters approaching them from the back.

The Master Sword clatters to the ground as Warriors slumps over completely, practically laying on top of Sky.

The shopkeep narrows her eyes at Time.

“Where is the hero?” She demands, flexing a hand to display her claws.

“I don't know what you mean.” Time replies coldy.

The woman hisses, air slicing between her fangs. “Don’t bother lying! That kid of yours had his blood on his sleeve. I could smell it!”

Our fault...

Without pausing, the woman fishes around in the pocket of her dress for a second before she pulls out another key, the bronze flashing in the dim light of the bar.

“I went to the house,” Four’s stomach drops to his feet. “Your brats weren't there. Are they in on it? Where are you hiding him?”

Time’s eyes widen at her words, the drugs probably muddling his head enough to make it difficult for the man to try to hide any of his feelings.

She tilts her head at his expression and then sneers at him.

“You thought they were still there,” she says voice disbelieving and flat. A sardonic laugh pushes it’s way past thin lips. “Man, you must be a real shit father if you can’t keep track of two injured kids.”

The shopkeep stalks forward, closer to Time. Meanwhile, the bartender loops around the otherside, closing in on the old man’s blind side. The three others staring down Twilight move forward, snarling.

Despite everything telling him to watch his friends, Four keeps his eyes glued to Legend.

Wait. C’mon, c’mon! Stay calm! Ughhh!

“They smell like him,” The bartender says conversationally. “And not just that they’ve been around him. Something about them smells… familiar.”

“If we can’t find the brat, maybe we could just use their blood instead,” Pipes up one of the card playing men as he eyes Twilight, not daring to step any closer with a blade still held pointed at his chest.

“No!” the shopkeeper spits, amber eyes ablaze and lips pulled into a snarl. “It has to be him! For the power he stole from our master! For stealing this world from us! A drop of blood for every monster he ever killed.”

Wait for it…

“I want to see the light leave his fucking eyes as the world comes down around him.”

An eruption of purple and an arm pulling itself from the wall sets several things in motion at once.

A sharp slam echos through the room as a metal grate strikes stone. The skittering from above resolves into a heavy clunk as something heavier drops from the rafters. Four takes a running leap and dives off the shelf, Roc’s cape billowing behind him as he slices through the air, a tiny arrow aimed straight toward the pot.

He slams into the back of the ceramic, and the bubbling, popping, geyser of magic erupts inside him. It jumps from his chest, condensing into blue runes that jump and jive and dance around his head, circling circling circling. The energy still in his chest breathes in, breathes out, and then expands, pushing at his bones, pushing at his skin. Four feels the magic push past his physical boundaries, and the smithy throws himself out of the pot as he grows.

Four brandishes the Four Sword in front of him.

Across from him, Legend stands in the fading purple light of his own magic, flame rod in one hand and a shield in the other. He looks angry. Angrier than Four thinks he’s ever seen the veteran hero look, canines bared in the cruelest smile the smithy has ever witnessed.

Wind stands triumphant in front of the unconscious Warriors and Sky, Phantom Sword held out in challenge for anyone to get near.

Wild, meanwhile, kneels on the bar, strightbacked as he aims his bow at the three monsters who had been approaching Twilight. Three electrical arrows sit knocked against the champion’s string, barely restrained by his knuckles.

And behind those surprised monsters, stands Hyrule.

For the barest of seconds, hazel eyes cloud over with regret. Guilt. But then that second ends. A pink, golden glow seems to blossom in Hyrule’s eyes, a beautiful dahlia growing in his pupils. The smell of ozone fills the air. Sparks of electricity hiss and sputter between the brunets fingers, dancing to an unseen beat.

The traveling hero extends his hand to the shopkeeper.

“You want me? Come and get me.”

And then everything explodes.

The shopkeeper lets out a scream of fury, her wings flapping thunderously to propel her toward Hyrule. Four lunges forward, slashing into the keese person closest to him; the old woman. She lets out a hiss as the blade bites into her shoulder and then a scream as her body seizes up. Her wings twitch and convulse unnaturally, arcs of greenish, yellow energy crawling over her skin.

Wild must have released his barrage, Four thinks, if the two matching screams are anything to go by.

Time dives forward, stabbing one of the card players while Twilight takes a large step forward, letting the momentum of the movement throw him into a spin attack, his sword scoring deep lacerations into the monsters’ stomachs.

Almost makes this too easy. Part of him thinks viciously as Four takes the moment of vulnerability to drive the Four Sword through the hag’s chest. Her scream cuts off as the pain causes her lungs to freeze in their tracks. A claw rakes across the smithy’s arm but he ignores it, pressing the blade in deeper.

She coughs, and blood– her own or perhaps others– splatters into Four’s face and hair. The glow behind her yellow eyes fades and then in a plume of noxious black smoke, she is gone.

A blast of heated air pushes into Four’s face, almost causing him to close his eyes against the warmth. In front of him, a tower of swirling flame erupts from the wooden floor, engulfing the bartender. His screams rise, too high to be human as the smell of burnt hair and skin clogs the air. The light of the flames dances in Legend’s eyes as the screeches slowly fade away, no sympathy in poisonous blue eyes.

Seeing the last two monsters staggered from Twilight’s hit and frozen with fear from Legend’s display, Four rolls to the floor behind them, dragging his sword across the back of their knees as he moves past.

One falls forward with a cry, soon silenced as Wind slashes into his neck with the Phantom Sword. The other falls backward, another arrow sticking from his eye courtesy of Wild.

Legend strides through their fading smoke, fire rod glowing and held at the ready to help Hyrule.

The traveling hero thrusts his shield forward, blocking a wide arching slash from the woman’s claws. The nails hit the metal with a clang. She changes tactics, gripping the sides of the sheild with both hands, pulling Hyrule closer to her gnashing teeth.

While she goes for the face, Hyrule aims low, slashing into her legs with his sword. With a cry, she lets go of the shield and turns quickly, slamming one of her wings into the unsuspecting hero, knocking him back a few steps.

Legend takes advantage of the brief moment of separation, swinging his fire rod in a downward arc. A wall of fire flares between the two combatants, separating the snarling woman from the panting hero.

By the time the flames die down, Hyrule is flanked by both Legend and Four, weapons and shields raised. To the side, Wild raises his bow once more and Wind readies a boomerang.

“Last words?” Legend asks.

The woman doesn't even look at the veteran, amber eyes locked on Hyrule. Her eyes trace a single bead of blood that rolls from the teens bottom lip where the skin has split from the force of her wing attack.

“We’ll never stop, hero,” she says, spitting the last word with all the venom in the world. “You will never know a moment of peace! Not until that cowardly little heart of yours beats its last.”

Her face suddenly lights up with glee, eyes flicking between Hyrule and Legend and then back to all the others, landing on each one of them in turn.

“They don’t know, do they?” She asks, voice squeaky with her giggles, fear mingling with the laughs, making them sound desperate and breathy. Her amber eyes sweep over them. “If you knew what power lies in his blood, you’d be tripping over yourselves to kill him too.”

A sharp, bark of laughter cuts through the air. Legend steps more fully in front of the woman, shoving the fire rod in her face as he cuts off her line of sight from Hyrule.

“Okay, listen here you overgrown piece of guano, ‘cause I’m feeling generous. I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he says.

“Ever heard of the Hero of Legend?” Her flat nose scrunches and her ears flick in confusion. At her tentative nod, the veteran hero pulls at one end of his tunic, as he gives a small mocking curtsey. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” he says with a nasty smile.

"So if you’ve heard of me, then you know what I did?” he asks, staring at her intently.

“You supposedly killed Ganon,” she says, eyes wide. Legend clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“Partially right.”

The spherical red orb on the end of the fire rod glows brighter and Four sees the air around it grow shimmery, heat radiating off it as Legend holds it closer to the keese woman. She shrinks away from it, her back hitting the wall.

“See, I’ve killed Ganon three times.” He presses the fire rod closer, the outer edge of the orb now licked with small flames. Blue eyes are locked with amber, an ocean pulling the sun into its depths at the end of the day, drowning it. “I’ve traveled through time, fixing the past to change the future. I’ve changed the seasons with the flick of a wand. I’ve walked through the cracks of the universe and came out fine on the other end.”

“I’ve woken sleeping gods,” he grits out. Legend finally seems to come back to himself pulls and himself back away from the monstrous woman. Four watches as she relaxes minutely as the hero steps away, standing at Hyrule’s side once more.

“I’ve seen enough power. Not interested.” With a small circle of the rod, embers erupt around the woman, a tight circle of small fires pinning her in place. She lets out a sharp gasp as the flames slink in closer and grow like terrifying bright poppies.

“I don’t know where you all go where you die but tell your friend this: if I find even a hair out of place on his head, he won't be the one who has to worry about being hunted, got it?”

Before she can get out a response, the fires converge, twining together first into a cage and then a singular pillar. It flares up up up toward the ceiling, the heat so great that Four finds himself stumbling backward from it, wishing he had his protective gear and goggles on.

And then, just as fast as it had flashed upward, the fire extinguishes itself, only a blackened spot on the ground and a swirl of purple smoke a sign that it had ever existed.

“Good.”

SIlence reigns over the now empty bar, all eyes locked on Legend.

Holy shit. Rises like a bubble to the surface of Four’s mind.

“Holy shit,” says Wind. Four nods at the sentiment. Because really, there isn’t anything else to say.

…

Getting everyone back to the house is a production.

Wind, using his power bracelets, bridal carries the unconscious Warriors the whole way back, a smug smile on the sailor’s face as the captain’s scarf drags behind him in the mud. Legend takes up a similar job, but instead carries the still snoring Sky slumped over on his back in a very awkward looking piggyback ride.

Wild supports a dizzy looking Twilight, in an ironic reversion of the day before. Time, whose legs seem to have failed him completely, is hunched over Hyrule and Four’s own shoulders as the two younger heroes all but drag the older man through the streets of Saria Town.

Once again, Four has to thank the goddesses for making sure not too many citizens witness their procession. Not for the first time since they’ve arrived here, the smithy is glad that this isnt his Hyrule. He won't have to be the one to explain this.

Thankfully, they’re able to get back to the house without incident.

“They’ll be fine,” Hyrule says with a weary smile as he and Legend leave the room they had designated as the infirmary. Four lets a breath of air out through his lips. Beside him, Wild and Wind visibly relax as well.

“They’ll just have some pretty nasty hangovers tomorrow,” Legend puts in, with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

“So, you’re saying I can’t scream ‘Told you so’ as soon as they wake up?” Wind asks, head tilted and face innocent.

Legend shrugs his shoulders. “It would be a real dick move. But we deserve payback so, go nuts, kid.”

“On the topic of what just happened,” Hyrule cuts in, eyes cast down to the floor, “I wanted to apologize to everyone.”

The traveling hero clutches at his chest, hand fisted in his green tunic.

“I told you all it was safe here. And I-I was wrong about that,” the teen’s voice catches in his throat. He swallows thickly a few times and then finally raises his head, looking at each of them in turn with sorrowful hazel eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Wild shakes his head vigorously. “There was no way you could have known this was going to happen.” Hyrule opens his mouth to argue, but the champion barrels forward, voice powerful. “It’s never your fault that people want to kill you for being you. That's not something you can control and definitely not something to apologise about,” he says. Empathy burns in the champion’s eyes, and for a second, Four wonders if Wild is reciting someone else’s words.

Words that he has heard himself a million times and internalized. Words that are etched into his brain.

Hyrule looks like he wants to argue further, but Legend places a hand on the younger hero’s shoulder, capturing his attention. He shakes his head once, eyes intent. The traveling hero slumps under the other’s gaze.

“Thanks,” he manages, a weak smile pointed at them

WIld brightens. “No problem. Now,” he says, changing the subject and trying to lighten the mood. “Dinner.”

Wind immediately perks up. “Soup! Soup! Soup!” He chants, following behind Wild as the older heads toward the kitchen.

“We had soup last night.”

“Not seafood soup! That’ll make everyone better in no time!”

Their voices fade as they turn out of the hallway and into the living room.

Hyrule and Legend make no move to follow them. Neither does Four.

The tentative smile that had fallen onto Hyrule’s face crumbles, leaving him somber. Resigned. There are bags under his eyes, Four notes suddenly with a hint of worry. He wonders how much magic the other hero had just used to make sure their friends were stable. He wonders how tired the other must be.

“I’m assuming you want answers,” Hyrule says, looking more exhausted and sad with each word. “What she said about me–”

“I don't care about that,” Four says, causing Hyrule’s head to pop up and eyes widen in slight surprise. “It wasn’t her secret to tell.”

All of the events from the past two days: The injuries, the anger, fear, regret, all of it adds fuel to the fire burning through Four’s chest and searing into his brain. The fire that tells him to comfort and protect.

We can hug him now, right? The fire asks, bright and hopeful and maybe just a little bit desperate for physical affection.

Yes. Comes a reply, easy as a summer breeze.

Ughhh do we have to? Ever the rain cloud on a sunny day.

Don’t play coy. Says the last.

Four’s arms slowly encircle Hyrule’s middle, allowing the other time to pull away if he wanted to. When he doesn't, the smithy leans into the embrace and squeezes. The traveling hero doesn't respond at first, muscle tensed and breath caught in his throat. However, slowly but surely, warm arms fold themselves around Four’s back and Hyrule’s chin comes to rest on the top of the smithy’s head.

“What information you choose to share with us is yours to decide,” Four says against the other’s chest, the words almost sounding too formal for the situation at hand, but heartfelt nonetheless. “I won’t think any less of you if you want to keep this to yourself.”

Four feels Hyrule nod, the older’s chin leaving the top of his head for only the barest of moments.

They stand like this for a moment. Eventually, Hyrule’s grip on him lessens, indicating to Four that he should let go. Part of him doesn't want to. Hell, actually, all of him doesn't want to. He does anyway.

Legend lets out an awkward cough, that almost has Four rolling his eyes as he and Hyrule fully pull apart.

Really, the vetreran hero had the emotional range of a Deku Scrub. No, less than that. A Leever.

“Maybe a smaller secret would be easier to start with?” Legend suggests, with a raised eyebrow and and a smile. “Namely, how the holy Hylia both of you got into the bar? Both of you seemed to appear out of thin air when I gave the signal.”

Four and Hyrule look at each other and then back at Legend.

“Trade secret.” Four says with a smile as he walks past the older hero and into the living room. Behind him, Hyrule lets out a sharp snort of laughter while Legend makes a mock offended noise at being brushed off so easily.

There was a sound from the rafters and then Hyrule appeared, right?

Hmmmm

Four lets a laugh bubble up from his throat.

Yes. A smaller secret indeed.

#lu alone together #lu four #lu legend #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu wild #everyone has a part tho so like yeahhhhhhhh #this shit is so long holy fuck #I would maybe recommend just reading it on ao3 like thats how long it is #anyway hope y'all like!!!#tw blood #linked universe #train writes

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totk-headcanons · 5 years

Note

Hey, what if the Old Champions manages to survive the blights and got put in the Link treatment? (In a coma for 100 years and lost their memories) Would they go on a adventures with Link?

This got very long, sorry no cut, I'm on mobile. However, enjoy the champions waking up, and facing their blights!

*Blue

Mipha

He had a sinking feeling when he first saw the cave that it was like the one he awoke in, and, unfortunately, he'd been right. There was a zora in the pool of water, and he hesitantly touched the slate to the console. A dull memory pounded at the back of his head as he watched the water drain, one of friendship and love and warmth. And then she jolted up into a sitting position, eyes wide, breathing shaky. Her gaze drifted to Link, and she calmed.

"Who... Who are you?"

"I'm Link. Who are you?" She paused, thinking.

"Mipha. Where are we? Why don't I remember anything?" He shrugged.

"Your guess on the memory is as good as mine. But we're near Zora's Domain." She nodded a bit to herself, climbing out of the pool.

"Well, I suppose I should thank you for... Waking me?" He shrugged again, unwilling to tell her she'd nearly died. "Would it be alright if I came along with you for a while? Until I find something I want to devote my time to."

"Not a bit. Welcome aboard, Mipha." He gave a bright smile, and she returned it.

Vah Ruta

"This thing doesn't like staying still, does it?!" She ducked out of the way of its spear, coming up with her own.

"Not really!" An arrow sunk into the eye of the thing, and it howled in pain, shooting upwards. And then the water, and the four platforms in the room, began to rise.

"Get on a platform, Link. No offense, but you're useless in the water."

"Great offense taken! But so is the advice." He clambered onto a platform, readying his bow. The thing was in its orb form, deciding where it would reform. It settled for right on top of the hero. Before he could fire or she could intercept, the spear slammed into his side. He was sent flying, and she was reacting before she knew what was happening. One hand reaching out, grabbing Link, power flowing through it and into him, closing his wounds. The other pointing toward the creature before lifting, a column of water slamming the thing into the ceiling. She shot through the water, depositing Link next to a platform, spear ready. The blight was dazed. She sunk her spear into it again and again and again, and it writhed. Screamed. She felt no remorse for the thing. And it hovered away awkwardly, reforming oddly. It screamed one final time, and exploded. Vah Ruta was free. Mipha had a brother to get to know, a father. A friend to help, and one to free.

Urbosa

His gut sank when he saw the shrine built outside the cave, the shield and sword that were left to rest there. He quietly entered, and sighed as he saw another shrine of ressurection. A gerudo lay in this one, her long hair splayed around her face. He activated the shrine, studying her. She felt... Familial, almost, though he clearly was unrelated to her. And then she was awake and on her feet. A warrior, his gut told him, though he felt no fear. She studied him for a moment, and then he took a breath.

"My name is Link. You probably have no memories, I didn't either when I woke up, you almost died a hundred years ago, so anyone you did know is probably dead. Well, aside from myself and Zelda, but we're weird cases, and-"

"You've certainly got quite a mouth on you." His eyes widened, and he clamped his mouth shut, looking away, earning a soft chuckle. "No, no, please, I'm teasing. It's pretty endearing, honestly. So, where are we?"

"Not, uh, not far from Gerudo Town. But I'm actually headed the other direction, have to get something back from the yiga, and-"

"I'll come with." He was surprised at the cold fury in her voice, and for a second, it looked like she was too. But it passed, and he nodded, turning to exit.

"Well, let's go then."

Vah Nabooris

"Shield, Link!" He glanced at her, and lifted his shield to her, bracing it with his other hand as she leapt off it at the blight. A swift slash had it screaming, shooting upwards. And then there was a thunderclap and lightning coursed through its sword and its shield. A shouted curse in gerudo had the hero staring at her in disbelief (because of the shout, there was no way a Hylian voe knew gerudo, right?), and then she was bolting forward, dodging slashes and stabbing past the shield. The pillar that slammed down next to her had her diving off the edge of the walkway, rolling at the bottom. Link was doing something with that slate of his, holding the pillar next to the blight. It's own lightning struck it, and she raced over to attack it. When it started flying again, she snapped on instinct, and lightning struck it. She grinned, Link and herself lunging in to finish it off. It's death scream had her grinning in relief, and she grinned wider at Link's relieved laughter. Now, to find a place for herself before the big battle...

Revali

He was far from startled by the shrine, walking in and studying the rito as he activated the pedestal. There was a rivalry, was it friendly? He couldn't tell. The rito slowly sat up, looking drowsy. His gaze landed on Link, and his eyes narrowed.

"What are you looking at?"

"You, idiot." The rito stood.

"Excuse me?" Link was about to retort, but he bit his tongue, taking a deep breath.

"I didn't mean to call you an idiot. Sorry." The rito's puffed up feathers settled, and he lost his threatening posture.

"It's fine, I guess. I was being rude first. ...I'm sorry as well." Link nodded, held out his hand.

"Let's start over. I'm Link." His hand was envolped in feathers a few beats later.

"Revali."

Vah Medoh

The blight's cannon was aimed at him. He darted into the updraft, let it carry him up, and fired four times in quick succession. One for the cannon, three for the eye.

"Nice shooting!"

"Thanks! See if you can keep up!" Link laughed, driving his sword into the stunned creature.

"I'm gonna be the one that kills this thing, bird boy!" It broke away from the hero, drones beginning to circle Link. And then they were all swiftly shot aside so that Link could have a clear shot on the beast.

"Only because of my help, wingless wonder!" The banter was easy, and it kept their spirits up while the thing danced away from their shots. And then a lazer, fired without an ounce of warning, slammed into his side. He hit the ground, rolled, and noticed the red dot painted on his chest. He felt a tugging urge in his gut, and trusted it. Steadied himself, spread his wings, and wind erupted beneath them, shooting him up at the last second. He whooped, firing, grounding the thing. Link finished it off, and Revali landed next to him. "You know, I do wonder when I learned to do that..."

"Make wind? I'd bet it was a long time ago." A soft slap had the hylian laughing, and Revali had to admit that it was infectious. He'd never say it out loud, but he quite liked his new beginning.

Daruk

He'd sought out the shrine as soon as he had gear to survive the volcano. He activated it, studying the goron. He felt safe, comfortable. And then the goron was up, looking around.

"Hi. I'm Link." The goron looked to him, and his extended hand. Grabbed it gently, and Link found himself very reminded of just how strong gorons could be by how careful he was to ensure he didn't break his hand.

"Daruk. And I'm definitely supposed to be doing something, though I haven't a clue what at the moment."

"Well, let's go find you something to do." The goron laughed a bit.

"Sounds good, little buddy. I like your attitude!" The two left, walking in step with each other, and it felt like they'd done it a thousand times before.

Vah Rudania

The creature began sucking in air for a fireball. Link threw in a bomb, and they both ran in to attack when it exploded in the things face. And then it was upright, a massive swing slamming into Link and bouncing off of Daruk's magical shield. It wouldn't hold under many hits like that. He swung his own massive blade, managing to dent a piece of the machinery the thing was made of. An arrow fired into its eye had it on the ground again, and Daruk continued to attack. The blight was defeated fairly quickly, Daruk thought, and he grinned at Link, who smiled tiredly back. It was a good fight. He wanted to make sure Link didn't have to fight for a long while.

Dark Beast Ganon

Link was exhausted. His horse was fleeing, he was half dead, and the thrice forsaken thing wouldn't stop. Zelda was quietly encouraging him, but he hurt, and he just wanted to be done. And then there was a loud whoop, and he saw arrows flying into the things sides.

"You have the wrong bow, bird brain!" Revali swooped down, having quickly abandoned his attempt when he saw it was doing nothing, and held his hand out.

"Then give me the right one, blue eyes." Link hesitated, and then nodded, quietly handing over the bow. He could vaguely make out other shapes coming closer, but he was on his way to unconsciousness, and everything was blurry. And then there was a hand in his back and warmth in his body and his vision cleared. He looked to Mipha, who smiled warmly. Daruk was taunting the thing, catching its hooves and throwing them back at it to make it stumble. Urbosa was rushing forward, and snapped, the lightning enraging the beast.

"Thank you, Mipha. I have to go help them."

"We, Link. We have to go help them." He grinned, and the two rushed in to join the effort of keeping the thing from paying Revali any attention while he shot arrows of light into it.

Zelda

She was back. All the champions kneeled to her, all in varying states of injury. And she smiled, tears in her eyes, overwhelmed by the fact that they'd all come for her, that they'd all survive. The first quiet sob had them all looking up, and before the next one came Urbosa was on her feet, enveloping her in a hug. The other joined, and she sobbed in relief, clinging to the gerudo. She was alive. They were alive. They were all safe. Hyrule had been shaken by the calamity, but now, now they were all together again. And watching them in the days that followed, she realized she had to get to know them again. Link spoke, now. He and Mipha were far less reserved. Daruk had lost some of his recklessness, and Revali didn't need to show off every moment. Urbosa, she thought, was the least changed. Until she caught her and Link sneaking out, wearing matching lizalfos masks. Yes, she had to get to know them all again. She didn't mind, she found.

#link #Mipha #Urbosa #Revali #Daruk #Zelda #mod blue #Long post

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tannertelford2 · 4 years

Text

Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild released back in 2017, meaning that for nearly 3 years, I have heard it touted as the best Zelda game ever created. In fact, I’ve seen many players and critics alike call it the best videogame ever. Needless to say, I had some pretty high expectations when I finally picked it up for the Nintendo Switch back in early November. However, I had my fair share (and perhaps more than my fair share) of qualms with this seemingly seminal installment. The contrast between my experience and that of so many others inspired this review, in which I hope to clarify what I felt worked well and what fell short. With the sequel announced as in development last year, this review also functions as a list shortfalls I hope to see corrected.

My first and main point of contest is that Breath of the Wild is so unlike any previous title that it hardly feels like a Zelda game at all. Heavy RPG elements, such as finite weapons, upgradable armor, and the need to find and prepare food to recover health (can’t I just break a jar for hearts?), were jolting but not irreconcilable. Even the ability to scale 99.9% of surfaces in the game wasn’t too foreign after the first hour of gameplay. The first major difference players encounter (though they may not realize it until later) is a complete lack of dungeons. Dungeons – the trademark, the pride and joy of Zelda – are completely gone. In their place, you find Shrines – short puzzles that usually consist of 1-4 rooms and which reward players with Spirit Orbs (tokens that can be exchanged for an increase in either the health or stamina meter). The shrines quickly become repetitive and burdensome; finding shrines, many of which are cleverly hidden (some of which are impossibly hidden) proves more fun than actually completing them, especially since they don’t progress in difficulty.

The Divine Beasts function as the game’s own unique version of standard temples, and while they are undeniably unique (the ability to control their movements to solve puzzles is quite ingenious), they lack the appeal of a true dungeon. There isn’t a single Beast players aren’t able to conquer (boss included) in under 35 minutes. When I enter a temple, I want it to take me at least an hour and cause a little stress induced hair-loss (just kidding on the last part). This new sequel needs more traditional dungeons and better bosses than the Scourge of Gannon foes that felt more like mini-bosses than anything. Even Hyrule Castle, which is one of the most in-depth, realistic versions of the castle we have seen – disappoints. It is not a true dungeon, and by the time I reached this point in the game, I simply followed the obvious path to Ganon rather than exploring the gorgeous structure; my spirit of adventure had been killed off long before then, by hours of aimless wandering in search of Shrines.

I am by no means a completionist. In fact, I’m not sure if I’ve ever completed a game 100% other than Mario Party DS (if you’ve played that game, you get it). However, the lack of fulfillment left by the shrine system led me to seek out every shrine. All 120 of them. While I was able to find around 105 of them by myself, I had to resort to a walkthrough to find the others (I would have gotten an 88% on my own, so I’m fine with owning that B/B+). This was due in part to some expertly hidden shrines, but it was also due in part to the sheer size of the map. I knew the map would be big because that was one of its main praises. However, I didn’t comprehend just how massive the map could be. And if you ask me, it’s too big; there are too many “dead zones” where there is nothing to find/do other than maybe solve some repetitive Korok Seed puzzles. The stable system, in which you are able to catch, tame, and then register wild horses, may have remedied this issue for me, but only if it actually worked; if you are anywhere but a sea-level plain, your horse cannot hear your whistle. This required me to rely more on the Shrine travel system and bear through what I can only estimate as hundreds of slow loading screens. Navigating this giant map proves troublesome, but finding Shrines complicates matters even further; the Sheika Sensor, which essentially allows you to play “Hot and Cold” with hidden Shrines, doesn’t help much either. In my opinion, the upcoming sequel needs focus less on an expansive map and more on an enriched map.

My next and related qualm is the lack of items that would typically come as rewards out of dungeons. The hook shot, boomerang, bomb bag, etc. are just as iconic as the dungeons themselves. This game “conveniently” compresses all potential items into the Sheika Slate and grants them to the player almost immediately. This removes any sense of progression or growth; it makes all puzzles and all areas of the map immediately accessible (again, something that others have praised but I found troublesome). One positive attribute of the Sheika Slate is that it does allow for more complicated puzzles. In a typical Zelda game, you find a new item, and all the puzzles in that dungeon are centered around that single item; afterward, the items are rarely necessary. Breath of the Wild does a much better job forcing players to use the Sheika Slate’s various functions to navigate the map and solve puzzles. Nevertheless, I missed the exhilarating rush of opening an item chest, the dramatic music in the background, and the ability to solve unique puzzles with new items.

One of the points where Breath of the Wild succeeds is in its characters and character development. For the first time in Zelda history, we actually see Princess Zelda as a real, multifaceted character with an actual personality. She serves a greater purpose in the story than a captured damsel who simply supplies Link with the Bow of Light at the last minute (although she does this too). We see her struggles and successes, and this acts to solidify her as a more believable character. Even the Champions, through cutscenes and memory flashbacks, assume a deeper personality than the main characters of other games, and their unique relationships with Link are played upon nicely. As far as I can remember, Breath of the Wild is the first game to have fully voiced cutscenes rather than simple dialogue boxes. This works well, but only in some instances; Princess Zelda’s whiny, faux British accent is still like nails on a chalkboard. In any event, I was happy to see Link remain without a voice, as I feel this would deviate too far from tradition.

Breath of the Wild’s ending, too, did not disappoint (at least at first). Ganon assumes his most menacing and intimidating form yet, and the cutscenes and score surrounding this initial fight are absolutely gorgeous. In the second phase of this final fight, Ganon takes on a different form, and the entire battle feels like a rehash of the boss fight from Twilight Princess – good but uninventive.

In the end, Breath of the Wild kept me entertained for several months – but only because I let it entertain me for that long. The real heart of the story is made entirely optional, with the player given the opportunity to confront Ganon at any point. While the non-linear storyline and the ability to tackle the game’s events in any order isn��t exactly my cup of tea, neither is it the main downfall of this title. Perhaps too much innovation at once takes this game in new (and often wrong) directions. Newcomers to the series are unlikely to be moved by these design choices, but loyal fans will likely take issue with them.

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cartoonlonk · 5 years

Text

“Extremely detailed character sheet ”

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Link Reason or meaning of name: His parents just really liked that name. According to Astrid, his name “Evokes kindness and strength in the same breath.” Character’s nickname: Small Fry, Kid, Lonk, Linny, Skittles, Peaches, Lil’ Elf, Mr. Swordsman, Mr. Fairy--- so much more Reason for nickname: I think most of these from the game(s) are because Link doesn’t disclose his name unless someone asks. So They end up just tossing out random nicknames at him. Unless you’re Linebeck and refuse to say his name gnklrnkg Birth date: December 13th

Physical appearance

Age: 13 How old does he/she appear: Link looks a lot younger than he appears. He’s very baby faced and short, though no one seems to point that out. They just know he’s still fairly young. He’ll be taking a sip of the youth fountain when older too. Weight: 84 pounds Height: 4′8″ Body build: Link is short and round in some areas. His cheeks and stomach have yet to fight off his milk fat. His arms are very “noodle-like” and his legs are short and stubby. Even if he is a warrior, the only muscle he might claim to have is in his legs. They’re the power house for him. Shape of face: Round Eye color: Black Glasses or contacts: N/A Skin tone: Olive tan Distinguishing marks: None that can be seen unless you look close enough. He has faint scars here and there---some of which across his knuckles--- but the worst one comes to his back. Being sliced from the mid center and across to the left hip. An attack that left him dead. Hair color: Golden blonde Type of hair: Soft, straight Hairstyle: Left messy, poofy. It’s slightly managed. Voice: His voice isn’t high pitched, its in the middle but slightly leaning into higher pitched territory. Overall attractiveness: Just a cute lil elf. Physical disabilities: None Usual fashion of dress: The green hero’s tunic. It was only meant to be worn just on his 11th birthday but its been carried out throughout the years ( and adjusted to his slightly grown height ). Favorite outfit: Doesn’t have a favorite. He feels bad if he ever picks favorites. The tunic is just his go-to since he doesn’t have the brainpower to fight himself on what to wear. Pink is nice though Jewelry or accessories: Wears the gossip stone around his neck. Just in case Tetra calls or Korl ( sadly there’s little to no hope for that ).

Personality

Good personality traits: Loyal, Caring, Protective, Heroic, Brave, Determined, Hard-Working, Friendly, Optimistic, curious Bad personality traits: Gullible, impulsive, naive, curious Mood character is most often in: Neutral while alone, upbeat while around others Sense of humor: His humor comes from Popsicle sticks. It’s very childish and often deriving from puns. He gets a kick from other people making jokes though. Character’s greatest joy in life: He takes pride in his family, it’s all he’s had. He loves them to bits. He wouldn’t be himself without them and he’d risk his life for anything if it meant keeping them safe. Character’s greatest fear: He has a number of fears but the biggest one that comes to mind is abandonment. Why? Link is terrified of being alone, he has trouble sleeping alone as it is during his travels. That’s why he cuddles his plushy, Puko or his sister’s telescope. He fears that one day everyone will leave him and he’d have no one to turn to. Link is really dependent on others. For comfort and helping him make right choices. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? When his sister got kidnapped. Character is most at ease when: The smell and taste of his grandmother’s soup, being in the comforting arms of his loved ones, playing his ukulele. Most ill at ease when: Being alone for too long, swimming in deep water, around ghosts or redeads. Enraged when: People insult his friends/family. He’s never really one to get mad from being bullied himself. His anger usually results to him crying afterwards Priorities: Finding new Hyrule Life philosophy: There’s always a rainbow after every storm. If granted one wish, it would be: Probably have a better memory. Why? I’ve said it many a time that he’s suffered head trauma so his memory isn’t the sharpest. He takes pictures and writes a lot just in case he forgets everything one day. Character’s soft spot: Cute things---he just loves anything cute. Is this soft spot obvious to others? Oh yeah---he cant say no or be mad to anyone adorable, it’s the law. He’s very protective over them too. Greatest strength: His kindness and courage. Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Goodness is he gullible. You can get away with bloody murder if you know how to play the cards right.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? Optimistic Introvert or extrovert? In the middle Daredevil or cautious? In the middle but he does lean more to daredevil Logical or emotional? Emotional Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Disorderly and messy Prefers working or relaxing? Relaxing Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Acts confident but is unsure of himself Animal lover? Hell yeah !

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: Pretty okay about himself! He’s still learning about who he is---sure he was dubbed the hero on two separate occasions but that doesn’t make up who he is. One word the character would use to describe self: “Unique!” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? “I guess how nice I am? Sometimes I’m told I’m too nice.” What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? “I put a lotta trust in everyone. So I guess how easily I believe in peoples?” What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? “My ears? I guess!” What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? “My stubby legs!” How does the character think others perceive him/her: “Um. . .weird! I get funny looks all the time.” What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: “Maybies me rememberin’ thin’s bettah.”

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: There’s potential friendship in them all! Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Sometimes, it really depends on how dire the situation is. Otherwise Link is one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Person character most hates: Ganon, Toffee Best friend(s): Aryll and Tetra ( in other verses he has Otto and/or Claus ) Love interest(s): None currently. He just loves giving love to everyone. Person character goes to for advice: His grandma Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Aryll and Ana Person character feels shy or awkward around: N/A Person character openly admires: Orca, Keahi, Akane, Compass, Luigi, Dreambert, Geno--tons of people, actually Person character secretly admires: N/A he’s pretty open when he likes someone. They’d probably be his rival Most important person in character’s life before story starts: His sister and grandma After story starts: Tetra

Stole it from the dash lmao

#{ i ended up deleting a lot since ive already talked about it before gnjkthknr }#◜History of a hero◞ : ━ ♡ ( Headcanons )#long post

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thelastpitchbender · 6 years

Text

Memory | Chapter 6

Summary: Link must relearn how to be a Champion before he defeats Calamity Ganon – but first, he needs to stop setting fires and backflipping off of cliffs. It’s too bad that his attempts to be a responsible hero keep getting interrupted by dumb things like owing people money, remembering hardly anything about who he is, and Yiga Clan assassins trying to kill him.

Rating: T for language, violence, dark stuff, and dumb, bad humor.

Read on: FanFiction | AO3

Chapter index here.

Chapter 6

More Bananas?

Someone was cooking something delicious near him. Or rather, many people were cooking many different dishes. Strangers coming together to share ingredients, a cooking pot, and a meal was a time-honored Hyrulean tradition, and it was comforting to know that it survived in most of the old kingdom.

Link cast his gaze around the main market of Gerudo Town with only the slightest bit of interest. It looked similar to how it had yesterday, but more,somehow. The warm, sharp smell of spices was stronger, the laughter and shouts were louder, and the women of the town were wearing copious amounts of elaborate jewelry that gleamed in the desert sun. Isha was standing next to her jewelry store, looking very pleased with herself and all the new business she had doubtlessly gotten today.

Today was a festival day, Link knew that. A holiday for all of the Gerudo. He forgot what the name of it was in Gerudic, but the Hylian name was the Day of Spirit. There were seven festival days to honor the Seven Heroines, and this was the third Link had been present for. It was always a pleasant surprise when he happened to visit during a celebration. On the Day of Skill, he had won the sword fighting tourney, narrowly lost first place in the archery tournament to a ridiculously talented soldier, and gotten last place in the sand-seal race after falling off his shield about six times. The Day of Endurance involved a long procession out into the desert that ended with a ceremony at the statues of the Heroines to honor the fallen Gerudo soldiers.

The Day of Spirit seemed less serious than the other two so far. The point of the festival was apparently to ingest as much food and alcohol as possible while also wearing as much jewelry as possible. This did not interest Link, not today. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall in the corner of the marketplace. He had tried to get his share of the communal meal earlier, but when he had seen young girls running around, screaming and laughing, he had totally lost his appetite. Staring up at the cloudless blue of the sky, he wondered if Aryll’s absence would always cast a cold shadow on him.

He liked it better when he couldn’t properly mourn his family. Earlier in the morning, Link had remembered who had taught him how to cook and sew. It had been his mother, Anith. Brief, faded images flashed through his memory of his catastrophically failed attempts at brewing elixirs and mixing poultices. His mother planted her hands on her hips and shouted at him to clean up the mess. By all the spirits, Link, I am determined to teach you something more practical than how to swing a sword around! Anith had been the village healer, once upon a time. That was how she and Rossin had met.

Link clenched and unclenched his fist, thinking miserably, I finally learned how to make elixirs, Mama.

The memories of his mother had come back as if they had never left at all, soft and worn at the edges and tucked in the corner of his mind. He’d caught other flashes of insight like this, like he was simply finding something he had lost some time ago. It felt almost like a betrayal, an old grief and pain made suddenly fresh and raw again. It killed him that no one knew, that even his own mind treated it like it was no big deal.

It wasn’t like remembering Aryll. That had been like a lynel’s hammer right in the gut. All of the memories from the pictures in the Sheikah Slate were the same way. Even his memory of his childhood in Zora’s Domain was so abrupt and all-consuming that Daruk had had to step in just so he wouldn’t be killed.

It was strange, Link thought. Those flashbacks had been so much more vivid and intense than any of the other old, vague memories he had recovered. Almost like something was pulling them out of his own mind –

“Little vai!” The voice startled him out of his musings. Link glanced to the side to see a visibly intoxicated Ardin stumbling toward him. He grimaced.

“I drew a contract,” Ardin slurred, shoving a paper in the general direction of his face.

“Drew up a contract,” Link automatically corrected. Ardin liked to learn new Hylian phrases from him.

Ardin frowned. “Uh, why would I draw up? That doesn’t make sense.” She scoffed, then leaned even closer to Link. “Reeeeeeead it.”

There was so much alcohol on her breath that Link half suspected he could get drunk from it too. He twisted to the side in an attempt to avoid her bad breath and her bright red hair. She had a lotof hair, and it was somehow getting in his face. It was probably because Ardin was leaning against the wall like she was about to be sick. Link snatched the contract out of her hand before she could throw up all over him.

It almost did look like it had been literally drawn, Link thought with some amusement. The thick parchment was covered in charcoal smears and irregular, lopsided Hylian lettering. It read:

CONTRAC

-The vai gives all heer stuff to me

-Spera is a dum loser

SINGED

Ardin

____________ (vai)

Link could feel a laugh bubbling up inside him, and tamped it down out of principle. He was supposed to be upset, dammit. “Look, I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure this contract isn’t legally binding if you can’t even remember my name,” he told Ardin, who was now laying on the dusty ground.

“Spera suuuuuuucks,” groaned Ardin.

“Not to mention you spelled basically every other word wrong,” Link continued.

Ardin’s arm flopped over her face, shielding her eyes from the sun. “She took my drink away,” she whined.

Link eyed her. “Probably a good thing. It’s still morning and you’re already sloshed.”

Ardin glared at him. “I do not have a problem.”

Link arched an eyebrow in response. “Never said you did.”

Ardin mumbled, “Issa festival day,” just as Spera popped out of her booth and sauntered over to them, a bottle of clear liquor in her hand.

“Looking for this?” Spera teased. Link peered at the label and how much of the liquid was already gone, then raised his eyebrows. It was Hebra wildberry gin. The mountaineers made that stuff strong to ward off the cold. And it looked like Ardin had definitely had more than she should have.

Link gave Spera the contract and said, “She called you a ‘dum loser,’ so I assume so.”

Spera smirked as she gave the paper a glance. “You know, this is technically a violation of AGM bylaws.”

Link blinked. “The what now?”

“The Association of Gerudo Merchants,” Spera said innocently. “Why, I could convene a special session right now and still have a quorum, even with half of the town drunk.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

“If Ardin doesn’t take back this contract, we can take away her practicing merchant license and rent her stall to someone else.” Spera’s smile was positively devious. It frightened Link.

He must not have hidden his expression very well, because Spera rolled her eyes and told him, “It’s a joke. The AGM already has a written agreement about how imports from individual registered sellers are to be distributed among AGM members based on demand. Ardin can’t make her own contract violating those terms, but she clearly doesn’t know better right now.”

At Link’s blank look, she gave up trying to explain anything to him and kicked Ardin lightly in the side instead, drawling, “Hey, rehvaq, get up.” Link didn’t know what that word meant, but from Ardin’s grumble, he guessed it was an insult.

Then her words caught up to him, and he incredulously said, “Wait, you merchants cheating me out of all of my stuff has been organized the whole time?”

Spera shot him a glance. He couldn’t tell if it was actually condescending or if she just towered over him. “Well, when you first came here, you confused a blue rupee for a purple one, so we decided not to concern you with the finer details.” Definitely condescension, then.

Ah, yes. The good old days when Link had stumbled around Hyrule while perpetually confused. He had adapted fast when he had awakened in the Shrine of Resurrection. He had to in order to avoid getting murdered by the monsters. But for a long time, the finer points of commerce and social interaction had evaded him. They occasionally still did, he admitted to himself with some embarrassment.

How did anyone keep it all straight? How did you remember the proper Gerudo greeting for each time of the day, each denomination of rupee, the average market value of a lizalfos talon, or how to respond when someone complimented your hair? It was all a mystery to Link. He supposed that before, he’d had nineteen years under his belt to learn that stuff. Honestly, it was unfair to expect him to learn it all again in only one year.

“A purple rupee is fifty, I’m not stupid,” Link blurted out, crossing his arms. He almost cringed after the words left his mouth. Way to sound like an angry kid.

Spera ignored him, electing instead to push Ardin, who was still laying down but now grabbing her legs, away. “By the Heroines, Ardin, you are the most incompetent – “ Spera let out a sharp breath as Ardin groaned and reached her hand up for the bottle of wildberry gin Spera was still carrying. “I’ll strip you of your position of secretary!” she snarled.

Ardin loudly gasped and sat up, wobbling slightly. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would!” Spera shot back. “And so would Isha and Estan!”

The expression of complete and utter betrayal on Ardin’s face was so over-the-top that Link let out a snicker. Both merchants gave him twin irritated looks, and he threw his hands up in surrender. It did not take long for the two merchants to start bickering again, and Link decided to leave them be.

He strolled around the perimeter of the marketplace, mulling over the new information about the Association of Gerudo Merchants. To say his memory was spotty was an understatement, but he somehow knew that such an association didn’t exist a hundred years ago. He bet it had grown out of necessity with the collapse of Hyrule’s royal government. Yunobo had told him that Bludo, the boss of Goron City, was officially the head of the miners’ labor union, but when the Hyrulean ambassadors and administrators stopped coming to the city, Bludo had been given his authority as boss by the Gorons.

All of this would be valuable information for Princess Zelda, when he finally destroyed the Calamity. She would have to rebuild her kingdom, and as the one who had been wandering around it recently, Link would have to help her out in any way he could.

Of course, that was assuming the princess was even still alive. The thought that she might not be chilled him. Very few people still believed she wasn’t dead, but he knew. He had heard her voice call to him from the castle. He refused to believe that she was gone, that the power holding Calamity Ganon back was not just some faint echo from a century gone by. Both for her sake and for all of Hyrule’s sake.

He was so busy getting himself nervous about the Calamity again that he almost collided with a soldier. She shifted her stance and tightened her grip on her spear before she realized who it was. “Sav’otta, Zelda,” she greeted without enthusiasm. “May the blessings of the Heroines light – where is your jewelry?”

Link shrank a bit under the guard’s sudden scrutiny. “Uh, I wasn’t aware that was required.”

The soldier sniffed faintly, her armor clanking as she brought her spear back to her side. “Legend has it that soon after Gerudo Town was first established, a molduking threatened to destroy it. The Heroine of Spirit fought it for seven days and seven nights before she realized that she needed to be creative. Thus, the jewelry.” Her story had the flat, rehearsed feel of a script read off to ignorant tourists.

Link squinted into the crowd, which was now dancing to music from a quartet of Gerudo musicians. The reflections from all the metals and stones made him look away. “Huh? Did she blind it? How are you supposed to blind a giant subterranean sand worm?”

The soldier sighed. Her body language screamed what a stupid question. “No. Moldukings like shiny things. She convinced the Heroine of Skill to give her the stash of gold and jewels she had amassed so she could lay a trap for the molduking.”

“What was in the trap?” Link prodded.

“It depends on who tells you the story,” she told him with a sour look. When she didn’t elaborate, Link huffed and moved on. Hylia, he hadn’t expected her to tell a story like that bard Kass, but did she have to be so terse about it?

There was a large military presence in the town today, he noticed as he continued walking. Spears bristled from every entrance to the marketplace. Soldiers moved around the perimeter of the town like shadows. Had he ever seen guards posted on top of the walls before? They were facing the outside desert, while the guards on the ground cast watchful gazes on the festival-goers. This couldn’t just be security for the holiday, he realized. Festivals brought vulnerability. And where there was vulnerability, the Yiga Clan would be there to exploit it.

But would they really be so bold as to attack a major settlement? They had already attacked Woodland Stable, but the stable didn’t have an army.

Did Riju and Buliara know something he didn’t?

He was startled by the clearing of a throat behind him. He turned to see Captain Teake with an escort of two other soldiers. She was still favoring her injured leg, but she stood tall and proud in an especially ornate and bejeweled set of Gerudo armor. When she shifted, sunlight glinted off of her helmet and made Link squint.

She shifted again and the reflection lessened enough to where Link could see her expression. Her lips were pressed together into a thin line and the look in her eyes was steely. The restrained fury in the way she tightly gripped the pommel of her scimitar made foreboding creep into Link’s stomach.

Teake couldn’t be mad at him, could she? It was probably the Yiga Clan. They were a pain in everybody’s ass. Corralling a bunch of drunk people on a festival day couldn’t be fun either.

“The chief requests your presence immediately,” the captain said tersely. She didn’t stop to wait for Link before she turned and strode to the palace. The crowds parted around her like water, despite being in various states of intoxication. One woman even stumbled backwards into the water framing the central plaza, but Teake didn’t even cast a glance back.

By the time Link and the soldiers finished climbing the steps to the throne room, he was thoroughly nervous and discouraged. Away from all of the drunk and excited festival-goers, he could feel the tension in the air. The soldiers were never too far away from a battle-ready stance and their hands were never too far away from their weapons.

Riju was having a quiet argument with Buliara and a Gerudo covered with a long, sheer gold and purple veil by the throne when Link and Teake entered. They stopped talking as soon as they noticed the newcomers, and Link wanted to shrink under their attention.

“Chief Riju, I present Zelda,” Teake said, curt and almost grudging.

Riju’s gaze was guarded and her posture was stiff. Link felt a wave of guilt crash over him. It suddenly struck him that his reaction to remembering Aryll must have been mystifying for Riju. He’d just stormed out without a single word to the chief, hadn’t he?

Diplomatic. He had to be diplomatic about making amends. The thought of diplomacy made him tense up. Where was Mipha’s kind soul or Zelda’s sharp intelligence when he needed it? He was just a dorky screw-up of a knight, not royalty. Not even a knight anymore, not really. He was some random adventurer with a penchant for killing monsters and accidentally putting innocent people in danger. He was even less than he had been a hundred years ago.

Bolstered by that very comforting thought, he stammered, “Would it be possible to speak in private – “

Buliara interrupted him by slamming the tip of her claymore into the ground. He recognized the anger in her eyes as protectiveness, and his heart sank as he realized that Riju most likely would have told her about his actions the night before. “We do not have time for that!” she practically roared. Link shrank back. He got the message. He would keep his mouth shut. Nerves buzzed in his stomach as he waited for Riju to say something.

What would it be? Hurt? Confusion? Condemnation? Anger? He very nearly averted his eyes, then thought better of it. Goddess curse him, he may not have been the same stoic, capable knight he once was, but he was still better than quaking in front of a thirteen-year-old girl.

But Riju must have heard the pleading in his voice earlier, because she relaxed slightly and her voice was surprisingly gentle when she gestured to the woman in the veil by her side and said, “This is First Priestess Birida. When we are done with our business here, she and I will go down to the plaza and perform the blessings for the Day of Spirit.”

Link nodded hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what Riju was doing. Part of him wanted to think that she was trying to and be charitable after his strange behavior the night before and allow him to explain himself, but another, more irritating part of him thought that he shouldn’t expect anything like that. He was still kicking himself over failing to explain what had happened.

Then Riju placed her hands on the armrests of her throne and leaned forward, a peculiar glint in her eyes. “But first things first. We found your spy,” she said.

Link was surprised, despite himself. “I’m assuming this has something to do with how many soldiers are in town today.”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Riju replied. “We need you to confirm that this woman is in fact the Yiga spy you were talking about.”

Link nodded, and Riju gestured for him to follow her, Buliara and Teake to the barracks. A soldier standing guard in front of a plain wooden door saluted and stood aside for them to pass.

It took several seconds for Link’s eyes to adjust in the dimly lit room. It was barely more than a supply closet, but it had been cleared of all weapons and tools so that a chair could fit.

The Hylian woman who had been giving him funny looks at the Noble Canteen was tied to the chair. Her dark hair was hanging over her face and stuck to her forehead with sweat. She did not look up as they entered.

“Yeah, that’s her, alright,” Link confirmed.

“Excellent,” Riju said. “Now the interrogation can begin.” She sounded much more enthusiastic about that than she should have.

Link heard a low, raspy laugh, and it took him a second to realize it was coming from the Yiga spy. “There’s no need,” she said. She looked up, and Link was startled to find that, although a bruise had swollen one eye nearly shut, her fierce gaze was pinned squarely on him.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the spy declared. “The Yiga will attack your town while all your people are too drunk to defend themselves, and they will continue to do so until the Hylian Champion turns himself over to us.”

Link froze. Although she had been speaking to Riju, the spy’s gaze had not left him a single time since she had looked up. Cold fear settled into his limbs like lead. Was she bluffing? They couldn’t possibly be planning to attack such a large settlement…could they?

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Teake sizing him up. When he risked a quick glance at her, she was staring straight forward, jaw set and eyes full of repressed fury. She had connected the dots, he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Great, now he was about to get permanently kicked out of Gerudo Town too.

He kept his lips pressed into a thin line as Riju and Buliara asked a few cursory questions about the Yiga Clan’s numbers and plans of attack, but the spy refused to answer any of them. Buliara eventually gave Riju a look, and the chief gestured for Link to leave with her, leaving the soldiers to their interrogation.

Once they reemerged into the bright sunlight, Link made a beeline for the north gate of the town. He couldn’t stay here. If worst came to worst, he could fight his way away from the Yiga – escape their hideout if necessary –

“Zelda!” Riju hissed.

Link reluctantly stopped just outside of the gates. The soldiers flanking them gave him an odd look, but upon seeing their chief, straightened up and turned their gazes forward.

Riju glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just leave! We need your help!”

“No, you don’t.” Link shook his head. He couldn’t quite look at her. “I’m putting you all in more danger by staying here.”

“Zelda, that’s not true! The Yiga Clan would have tried something like this at some point anyway!” Exasperation laced her words. Link had the sense that she was bluffing to make him feel better, but her irritation undermined the effect. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there? Is it something we can help with?”

“I don’t think you understand,” Link said, licking his lips. His throat was very dry.

“Then make me understand,” Riju retorted stiffly. “You can start with explaining why you acted so weird last night!” Her elaborate headdress was skewed, and she adjusted it.

Link spread his arms out, feeling helpless. “I…remembered my sister.”

Riju blinked. “Sister?”

He smiled humorlessly. “That was about my reaction too.”

Understanding dawned on Riju’s face, soon replaced by pity. He hated that look, but at least Riju was someone he could talk to.

It suddenly hit him, the enormity of it all. He had known that he had to have had parents, but he hadn’t remembered a single Goddess-cursed thing about them. And then he remembered them, he remembered how much they loved him and how much they taught him, but he realized that they’d been dead for literally a century and there was nothing he could do about it. But that wasn’t the only thing. He had a sister, and he had no idea. He forgot all about her. And she was dead.

The fury boiling in his blood startled Link. He forced himself to take in deep, ragged breaths. Riju was staring at him, stunned. “Li – Zelda, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. You were obviously upset about something, and Buliara said that you were still upset this morning, but I didn’t know…”

Link hesitated for a long moment. “I really appreciate your friendship, Riju,” he said honestly. “I’m going to Kara Kara Bazaar. Probably less drunk people to put in danger.”

“You will do no such thing,” Riju replied, the heat in her voice startling him. “Kara Kara is practically indefensible. Besides, all the voe go there to get drunk anyway.”

Link sighed. “Fair enough.” Besides, he had left all of his gear in the hotel that morning.

He followed the chief back into the town, and chaos immediately broke loose.

Link heard familiar cackling a second before he heard soldiers barking orders. A mere moment later, he saw the first Yiga footsoldiers appearing right in the middle of the marketplace.

The women in the crowd screamed and stumbled for the entrances to the town, only to find that footsoldiers had materialized there too, keeping them hemmed in.

“Behind me,” he ordered Riju. A footsoldier noticed him and stalked forward, demon carver held at the ready. Link reached back for the handle of his broadsword and met with only air.

Right. He was unarmed.

Fantastic.

Well, he always had the Sheikah Slate at his hip. He unhooked it from his belt and held it out in front of him with two hands like a very small shield.

The footsoldier crouched and tensed, ready to spring forward. Link panicked and did the only thing he could think to do in the heat of the moment. He stabbed his finger at the Stasis rune, pointed the Slate at the Yiga, and clicked the button.

The footsoldier was frozen mid-slash, held in place by glowing, golden chains. Link heard Riju gasp and exclaim behind him, and he couldn’t help the small grin that formed on his face. He hooked the Slate back on his belt, snatched up an empty box that had been sitting next to him, and threw it at the Yiga’s mask with both hands.

A second later, after the box had fallen to the ground, the footsoldier flew backward into a palm tree. The mask splintered and fell off, revealing the bewildered face of a young Hylian man.

“Aw, shit,” the footsoldier said, before scrambling up to his feet and running away. Actually, it was more like stumbling away, after the hit he’d taken to his head.

Link was frozen, just for a second. For all of his warrior instinct and knight training, he’d never been taught to defend the chief of the Gerudo from teleporting assassins. While unarmed.

Then his focus came back, all in a rush. It didn’t matter. He was plenty well-armed, compared to most people in the square. He unhooked the Sheikah Slate and held it at the ready.

Link risked a glance back at Riju. The young chief was clearly taken by surprise, but she’d gotten a scimitar from somewhere and was holding it before her, jaw set. She likely had some minimal self-defense training, knowing Buliara. But he would take no chances.

He took a quick inventory of the scene before him. Yiga footsoldiers were backing civilians into each corner of the town. Link didn’t know why, but he suspected they would be hostages before long. Soldiers were skillfully brandishing spears at them, but the Yiga were just teleporting out of range. The air was full of cackling, shouts, and the fluttering of paper. He noted that the archers on the walls were aiming, but letting loose very few arrows, with such a high chance of hitting their own people.

“To the palace,” he commanded Riju. She nodded and kept close to him as he started to skirt the walls of the town. He ducked into stalls, rather than go around and become a clearer target for the Yiga.

Link hastily scanned the area for things he could use in combat. Bombs were a terrible idea within the city walls, and while there was some water surrounding the raised central dais of the marketplace, Cryonis was rarely useful in combat.

Except – there was a footsoldier ready to lunge across the water, ready to strike at him and Riju. With a sure hand, he flicked to Cryonis and summoned a pillar of ice from the pool of water, just in time for the footsoldier’s demon carver to wedge in it uselessly.

Link took the opportunity to seize Riju’s hand and sprint for the palace. If the Yiga clansmen hadn’t realized he was within the city walls yet, they knew now, judging from the shouts and commotion behind him.

Metal scraped behind him, and he acted on instinct. Daruk’s red barrier formed around him and Riju, just in time for a demon carver to bounce off it, right where Riju’s back would have been.

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” Daruk’s voice boomed behind Link. He heard the Goron’s mighty grunt, a solid thwack of a stony fist against something, and a footsoldier’s shriek.

“Long story,” Link called back. “These guys really don’t like me!” He pivoted and froze a lunging footsoldier with Stasis.

“I’ll say!” Daruk laughed, watching the extremely confused footsoldier fall to the ground after a few seconds. “I don’t have much time left. Watch your back, little guy.”

Link nodded, already scanning the plaza for a suitable weapon. His gut twisted when he saw a Gerudo soldier sprawled out on the plaza, unmoving, but the glint of a spear caught his eye. He flicked to Magnesis and brought the spear to him with a twist of his wrists, snatching it out of the air in time to slice a blademaster in the arm.

Blood sprayed into the air, but the blademaster just cracked his neck, unfazed. Link set his jaw and shifted into a defensive stance, Sheikah Slate back on his hip. Daruk was gone now, but he hoped that he had granted Riju enough cover to get to the palace. Behind him, he heard Riju’s and Buliara’s shouts as they hopefully reunited, and that was enough reassurance for him to focus all of his attention on the battle.

Combat raged on all around them, but Link and the blademaster held their positions. They sized each other up. Stillness stretched taut like a bowstring between them.

Then, without warning, the blademaster lunged for him.

Link was ready to sidestep, but his foot caught in a groove between two slabs of stone and pain shot up his leg from his ankle. The wind released from the blade cut across his side, and he hissed. His hand came away from the wound crimson.

Link gritted his teeth against the pain. Dumb, rookie mistake. It wasn’t his fault that his vai clothes made absolutely terrible armor, but he kicked himself all the same. He straightened and hefted the spear again, ignoring the way the blademaster cockily rolled his shoulders.

The blademaster punched the ground. A blood-red rune burned in the air above him. Link felt wind fluttering his clothes and snapped out his paraglider. As he rose into the air, he tucked his legs up to his chest, just in time to avoid the pillar of stone that had erupted from the ground.

Link angled the paraglider forward and fell into an aerial strike. He thrust the spear home, and it pierced through the blademaster’s shoulder. Link fell to the ground gracelessly and stumbled backwards, suppressing his nausea born of pain and the knowledge that he’d just stabbed an actual person. The blademaster groaned and warped away in a burst of fluttering papers. The Gerudo spear he’d been stabbed with clattered to the ground.

Link chanced a glance behind him and saw that Buliara and some other guards had formed a protective circle around Riju. He exhaled. He tried to break into a run for the spear, but he nearly collapsed as his twisted ankle failed to support his weight. He ignored the throbbing pain lancing up his leg and managed to stumble to the spear, scooping it up.

He had to get to his weapons in Hotel Oasis. Most importantly, his shield. There was no way he would be able to defend himself without it in this condition.

It was only twenty feet to the hotel. Link had no idea how he managed to drag himself all the way there without being completely beset by footsoldiers. Arrows flew by him, but not a single one hit its target. Inside the relative safety of the hotel, he flopped down on his bed for the second it took to snatch up the rest of his gear.

Once he limped out of the hotel, he found out why he hadn’t already been killed on the way there.

A row of Yiga clansmen formed a rough semicircle around the entrance to Hotel Oasis. He was blocked in.

“Hylian Champion,” a blademaster in the center declared in a booming voice. “It gives us no pleasure to kill innocents.”

“But you certainly enjoy stealing from them!” came Spera’s angry shout from somewhere beyond the circle. Link paled. Was she alright? His vision was growing a bit fuzzy at the edges, and he couldn’t quite tell what was going on with the Gerudo. Had all of the soldiers already been subdued?

“What? No. No way. Shut up,” the blademaster blustered, irritated by her outburst. “That’s beside the point! The pointis, if you don’t come with us, we’ll be forced to resort to violence.”

Resort to violence.Link snorted. But he realized that the blademaster had a point. Link was in no shape to get out of this alive if he tried to continue the fight. The best thing he could do for the Gerudo would be to cooperate. For now.

“And I have your assurance that no one in the town will be harmed, not even the chief?” Link asked. He propped himself up with the spear in an effort to take some weight off his bad ankle.

“Ganon’s blood, we’re assassins, not savages!” the blademaster cried indignantly. “We don’t attack children!”

Link raised an eyebrow and stared at the blademaster until he amended, “Sure, fine, we won’t hurt anyone. Even that super annoying lady over there.”

He pointed, and Link craned his head to see Ardin sprawled out on the ground, grabbing onto a footsoldier’s ankles and sobbing. She was obviously still drunk. “Oh, no,” Link murmured. Spera was on the other side of the plaza, being restrained by another footsoldier. He hoped they would both be alright. They were his friends, even if they were also annoying, cutthroat merchants.

Link tried to take a deep breath and was stopped short by the cutting pain in his side. He felt the eyes of the Gerudo and Yiga on him. He was shaking, and the silk of his clothes was starting to stick to his body with blood and sweat. He was sure that some of the Gerudo had already figured out that the Hylian Champion was never a vai, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Fine,” he bit out. Anger simmered in his belly. “But don’t expect me to walk around in the desert after I twisted my ankle, for Hylia’s sake.”

The blademaster turned to the footsoldier on his right and murmured something. The footsoldier jogged off to the front gate of the town.

An assassin came at Link from the side, and he smacked the footsoldier’s hand away before he realized that she was trying to lend a hand. Link immediately swung his spear behind him and held his hands up before he could get murdered.

He limped behind the blademaster, casting guilty, sidelong glances at all the Gerudo. They mainly looked too exhausted to be angry with him. They were probably happy that he was leaving, given that he was the reason they were at risk. The Gerudo outnumbered the Yiga Clan, but too many of them were drunk civilians for them to be an effective force. Footsoldiers were holding blades against the Gerudo soldiers’ throats. It seemed that fighting within the walls of the town had been a weakness; the Yiga had been able to back the normally very competent soldiers into a literal corner.

And now Link himself was backed into a corner. He caught the gaze of Captain Teake, who was paler than normal. The wound on her leg had reopened, soaking the bandage through, and she was sagging against a wall. Link thought she was chewing something at first, but as he got closer, he realized she was mouthing something. He blinked a few times until he could parse it.

Rito Village, she said. Go to Rito Village.

Link gave her the barest hint of a nod, and her mouth stopped moving.

A harnessed sand-seal was waiting outside the gates for him. The footsoldier who had tried to help him earlier took the lead rope and tied it to his belt. “Sit on your shield,” she ordered him, and so he did, feeling relief as he finally took his weight off his twisted ankle.

“Sorry about all this,” she added, quieter.

“Why in Farosh’s name do you care?” Link snapped. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

The footsoldier glanced at the blademaster, before hesitantly answering, “The Lady said – “

“Hey, don’t tell him that!” another footsolder shouted, before the blademaster raised his hand in a call for silence.

“The Golden Lady can explain her intent for the Champion herself,” the blademaster said, with the air of someone who had already fielded this question a million times.

“Huh? Golden Lady?” Link demanded with the little breath he could comfortably take into his lungs. “I thought you guys were into the smoke thing with the pig head. Are you talking about Kohga’s replacement?”

The blademaster groaned. “Enough questions for now. Let’s just get to the hideout.” He waved his group forward, and about half of the footsoldiers who were there warped away.

They’re underestimating me, Link thought with a grim smile.

As the blademaster took hold of the sand-seal’s reins and started them forward at a walking pace, Link pushed his ankle slightly against the rim of the shield to test how well it would hold up. Not very well, the pulsing pain told him. He winced.

Instead, he waited until they were a safe distance away from the town. He summoned the familiar fury, much easier than usual in the wake of the attack on Gerudo Town. It dulled his aches and pains and he almost saw double.

He reached his arm out in front of him, and one of the Yiga gave him a quizzical glance. Before anyone could react, Link snapped his fingers.

Urbosa appeared in a flare of light. Although her golden outline was barely visible against the yellow dunes, Link could almost see her furious expression as she quickly took in the situation.

“Seven sands,” she snarled as the Yiga Clan members shouted in alarm and pulled out their weapons. Urbosa let out a stream of what Link assumed were foul insults in Gerudic, then raised her arm to the sky.

Lighting rained down on the Yiga, more intense and blinding than Link had ever seen it. “Go!” Urbosa roared at him over the crashing of thunder.

He did not need to be told twice. The blademaster fell to the ground in agony and dropped the sand-seal’s reins. Link snapped the rope tied to his belt, and the sand-seal surged forward into the desert.

Link almost fell flat on his face before he gripped onto the sides of his shield. Shield surfing was much less fun when he was sitting down. Sand sprayed into his face, and for once, he was glad of the veil covering his mouth.

With some careful maneuvering, he wedged his feet into the handles of the shield and pulled himself into a crouch. It was slow and difficult. His body was not cooperating the way he wanted it to.

The sand-seal swam over a dune. Link’s stomach dropped out from under him as the shield came off the sand for a brief moment. The shield swung wildly to one side, and Link pulled on the rope hard enough to pull himself to his feet.

His ankle almost gave out on him, and he dropped into an awkward crouch. The wind tore at his clothes. He wobbled. He couldn’t keep going like this. He would eventually fall off.

A Yiga rune flared in his peripheral vision, and he immediately snapped the rope. The sand-seal dove under the sand and rushed forward, almost yanking Link off his shield. Twin arrows whistled through the air a mere foot away from his head and speared the sand.

The Yiga had found him.

The sand-seal was traveling in a small valley between two dunes. Several more archers were appearing just up ahead. Link braced himself for the inevitable pain, and leaned hard to one side. He carved up a dune and the sand-seal swung in the opposite direction. This time, an arrow grazed his calf, and he bit back a curse.

Now he was headed straight for a cluster of ruins. His heart sank as he saw archers perched on the crumbling arches. He didn’t have time to make a sharp turn. It was the end of the road for him.

Link yanked hard on the rope, and the sand-seal came to a halt. He stumbled forward and fell off his shield. Thankfully, no one was shooting at him. Yet.

“Would you stop that?” one of the archers yelled.

“Stop what?” Link retorted to buy time. Goddess, he really, reallyhated what he was about to do.

“Escaping us!” said the archer. Link unhooked the Sheikah Slate from his belt and scrolled to the map. “Hey, stop messing with the Slate!” the archer continued, aiming her bow at his face.

Link ignored that comment. “Well, it’s too bad you don’t like that, because I’m about to do it again.” He hit the button cued up on the Slate.

As the world around him dissolved into streaks of incandescent blue, he allowed himself to savor the indignant shouting of the Yiga archers that he could still hear. It was the most enjoyment he’d get for a while, he predicted.

Rito Village, here I come.

#fanfic #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #botw #memory #link #riju #buliara #teake #spera #ardin #who is very drunk #yiga clan #and some sand seal shenanigans #it's gettin real now bois

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