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queenof-literature · 3 years

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Hero of Wild - Chapter 6

I’m sorry about the delay… again… life really does get in the way sometimes doesn’t it? Anyway, I’m kinda planning my timelines/series as I go along, so if things don’t correlate I will try to fix them later. There’s also been some confusion about my story timelines and why Wild can talk in some stories and not in others. Sorry for the confusion! In my stories if WIld can talk then it takes place after this series which is a work in progress. For any questions to the order of my stories, please visit my Masterlist on my Tumblr, @queenof-literature. Thank you as always for the insane amount of support. Love you all and hope you’re doing well!

**This fic portrays Selective Mutism and trouble with speech how I and my peers have experienced it**

TW: Taunting/Bullying (No slurs), Minor Panic Attack

Wild was still a mystery. It had been more than a week since Wild had joined their little crew. Sky and everyone else thought they were done receiving heroes, but Hylia still had surprises for them it seemed. Oh well, Hylia did what she thought was best, and Wild was a good person to have around. After the first time they saw him fight that Lynel, no one could deny that. Yet Sky couldn’t help but wonder why Hylia waited so long. Why make Wild more of an outsider than necessary by waiting more than two months to introduce him? Sky knew he would probably never know the answer, Hylia did what she needed to, but it was still something he questioned. They were back in Wild’s Hyrule once again, even though they were just here a week ago. After Wild’s Hyrule the first time, they went to Sky’s, then a random one, then back to Wild’s again for seemingly no reason. Sky hadn’t even gotten to see Zelda before he left his own Hyrule… it was just frustrating. But Sky tried not to let it show, getting mad wouldn’t help anyone. Sky looked back at Wild, who was doing his best to keep his distance from the group. Well as much as he could, Warriors and Twilight seemed to be worried that him and Hyrule would wander off again to ‘shield surf’.

“Hey Wild?” Sky called out lowly. Wild looked up, eyes full of question and apprehension. He didn’t seem to be in a talk- signing mood today. “Are we still going down the right path?” The Links were currently traveling through a small patch of trees after what Wild had called Proxim Bridge, heading straight towards what seemed to be two large mountains, or one that was split right down the middle. Wild nodded, lifting his hands to sign.

‘The path is straight through the mountains to the stable.’ Sky remembered Wild telling Time there was a stable after the mountain, but it was unusual for Wild to direct them down a large path. Even knowing him for a little over a week, Sky knew that Wild absolutely hated traveling main roads on foot.

“Okay, thanks Wild.” Sky smiled back at him. Wild had seemed to come out of his head slightly, awkwardly coming up to walk a shorter distance from Sky. The older assumed it was in case anyone else had questions. He didn’t mean to make Wild uncomfortable, he just wanted to be sure they weren’t lost. Wild glanced at him, as if expecting him to make small talk the boy obviously wasn’t comfortable at the moment. “We don’t have to talk, we can just walk.” Sky offered, low enough so only Wild could hear him. The other boy simply nodded, though Sky could see the grateful look in his eyes.

The group walked in, a mix of lulled conversation and comfortable silence sweeped over them, and it was moments like these that Sky could simply appreciate his surroundings. As they approached the looming cliffs, Sky couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of it all. Wild’s Hyrule was savage and massive and overwhelming, but it was also beautiful. The tall rocky walls reflected the bright afternoon sun, the rocks a deep navy blue instead of ominous gray.

Sky felt a small tap on his shoulder and looked towards his companion.

“Yes, Wild?” Sky questioned softly, doing his best to not draw attention to them.

‘There’s some monster camps between the cliffs. They usually leave people alone but we need to stay on the path.’ Wild signed to Sky. Even after that small of a conversation, Wild seemed to slump down a little further. It was almost unnoticeable, but Sky was always good at reading people. Wild said the stable was almost directly after the end of the mountain path, so hopefully he would be able to run off and recharge while the rest of the group stayed at the stable for the night.

“Guys.” Sky called out, gathering the other’s attention. “Wild says that there’s monster camps coming up, but we should be ignored if we stay on the path.” Wild looked slightly flustered that Sky had spoken up for him, but he sent a grateful nod in the older’s direction.

“When isn’t there a horde of monsters in this Hyrule.” Legend grumbled. No one could really tell if he truly hated Wild’s Hyrule or if he was just being sarcastic. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

“Thanks for the heads up, Wild.” Time interrupted, nodding his thanks to Sky for relaying the message.

The group continued on along the river, looking up in wonder when they finally entered the enclosed path.

“Is that a shrine up there, Wild?” Wind pointed widely to the blue glow in the distance. The rest of the group turned their attention on Wild, who squirmed slightly under their gaze.

‘Yes. One here, two on top.’ Wild signed quickly to get their attention somewhere else. Sky wanted to ask about their challenges, since Wild’s trials really interested all of them, but thought better of it when he remembered how uncomfortable Wild seemed in their large group today.

“We sure we should just leave those camps there?” Legend asked, glancing between the screaming Bokoblins and the Lizalfos swimming in the rushing river.

“If you want to fight them all, be my guest.” Warriors snarked.

“Wild said it’s fine.” Time gruffed, halting that argument before it started. As much as Time wanted to kill any monsters possible to avoid future incidents, in Wild’s land they just seemed to keep coming. Plus the boys were all weary. Even Legend seemed to dread the very idea he brought up.

Wild felt a cold hand squeeze his heart. If they got attacked after Wild explicitly that it would probably be safe, then would they ever trust Wild again? Even if they did, Wild would never forgive himself…

“Is that the stable ahead?” Hyrule asked, glancing at the rustic horse head in the distance. Wild nodded a little dumbly, not noticing how far they had made it.

“Yes!” Wind yelled, and the group sped up with newfound energy. Stops on their journey were always a relief, no matter how brief they were.

After the group finally emerged from the cliffs above, the stable was in plain sight. The group crossed a flat rickety bridge. It reminded Twilight of the bridges the other children in Ordon would claim had trolls beneath. Wild called it Big Twin Bridge, although it certainly wasn’t big compared to some of the bridges the other Links had seen.

As they approached the group felt the same warm aura that Wild’s stables seemed to radiate. The first thing Twilight noticed was the pen of animals every stable seemed to have.

“Are those goats?” Twilight asked Wild, thinking back to the apparent sheep the last stable had. Wild nodded with a small smirk, already knowing Twilight well enough to know the older would go greet the goats when there was time. There were few people at the stable besides the group of nine, but that seemed to be normal for Wild’s Hyrule. Once again, they saw a scrawny young man carrying a beetle shaped bag three times his size.

“Is he everywhere?” Legend whispered incredulously to Warriors.

‘Beetle.’ Wild finger spelled to them.

“Is that his name?” Warriors laughed, only laughing harder when Wild nodded.

“Wild? Are you coming inside?” Four asked, nodding his head to the other Links filing inside the stable to relax around the small table within. Wild shook his head and gestured vaguely to the fire pot.

“But… Dinner isn’t until a lot later?” Four’s brow furrowed, looking towards the sun in the middle of the sky.

‘Has to simmer.’ Wild signed fingerspelling the last word Four didn’t recognize, and Four mentally shelved the word for ‘simmer’ he just learned.

“Okay… but will you come inside after it starts to simmer?” Four questioned, genuinely confused as to why Wild seemed hesitant about going inside. Wild bit his lip then nodded slowly. “Wild… you know that you can do what you need to do in your Hyrule? If you have someone you need to see or something, just let Time or Warriors know. We’ve all had to take care of business in our Hyrule.” Four assured. He couldn’t tell for sure why Wild seemed quiet. Well… more than usual. It didn’t just seem like a bad day like when he and Hyrule went shield surfing, it felt like far more than that. He thought back to his conversation with Hyrule. Perhaps Wild had something to do, but he was too scared to say anything. It was worth a shot. To his dismay, Wild simply smiled a little and nodded. So that wasn’t it, it seemed.

“Let me know if you need any help.” Four finished, shoving down his disappointment. Hopefully Wild would be able to let someone know if he got too bad… as slim of a chance as it was. Wild signed a quick thank you before heading to the cooking pot.

Hylia, he hoped they weren’t here, but he knew they would be. The ‘Treasure Hunting Bros’, still looking for treasure Link had found in under an hour. Link had made the grave mistake of trying to tell them that he had already found it. They gave him the riddle, teasing him, not expecting him to really find it. Even if their arrogance was infuriating, he didn’t want them to spend months, if not years, wasting their time for treasure that wouldn’t even be there if they found it. When he attempted to sign, they rudely waved him off. He hadn’t tried to talk that much to others verbally since he left the shrine. The times he did it didn’t go… well… but he could feel the words on his tongue if he could just push them out, he’d be fine! He tried to approach them, tried to warn them.

“I…” The first word tumbled out of his mouth, hot streaks of pain clawed up this throat. “I… f-foun… I foun-” Link felt frustration and fear only closing his throat more. Why was this so hard? He could feel the words, he could feel his mouth form to say them, why couldn’t he just get them out?

“Uhh, are you okay?” Prissen, the one on the right asked with a laugh.

“Tre-rea-” Link’s words bubbled in the back of his throat only to slur and stutter and eventually die before they even had a chance to leave.

“You sound like a demented toddler, man. Have some water or something.” Prissen giggled out, and Wild felt his throat flame up even more. Somehow the white hot pain was still so cold.

“I don’t have time for this.” Dak snapped. “Either say whatever you’re babbling about or leave.”

So Wild left.

Sky didn’t know whether or not he should be worried about Wild. The boy was quiet, but that wasn’t unusual. The newest Link reminded Sky so much of himself it actually hurt some days. Sky had his bad days, but it was better now.

Wild however, he never spoke a single word. No one could touch him without him panicking and reaching for his sword. The group didn’t want to approach him like a spooked animal, but no one was quite sure what to do. Wild didn’t need to talk, or accept hugs and pats on the back to be truly a part of the group. They would accept their Brother of Courage no matter what, but Sky truly was worried there was something deeper going on. Something the Hero of Sky couldn’t fix.

Looking at the boy sitting by the fire outside the stable, Sky felt more lost than he had in a long time. Sky’s eye twitched as once again the two men conversing in the stable got too loud. Their constant whispering and occasional yell was even getting Sky slightly irritated, but there was nothing to do, they were in a public place.

“It’s him.” The one in blue snickered, now that he was paying attention Sky realized that their ‘whispers’ weren’t even secretive at all. Sky wondered who they were even talking about. It seems the one in red had the same question.

“Who?” The one in red snapped irritably.

“That one!” To Sky’s confusion and worry, he not-so-discreetly pointed directly at Wild outside. The entire group subtly perked up at the mention of their new member. Some in the group were used to praise and whispers, however, this didn’t sound like praise.

“Is that the one that you said sounded and I quote ‘like a demented toddler’.” The one in red asked in a deadpan voice, much to the group's shock. Did that mean what Sky thought it meant? He heard shuffling and expected Warriors to be holding Legend back, he did not expect to turn and see it was the other way around.

“Just wait a second you idiot.” Legend snapped in a low whisper. “We need more information first.” Warriors took a deep breath and sagged slightly. Legend was right, not that he would ever admit it.

“That’s the one!” The one in blue laughed heartily, and Sky felt a rock in his stomach.

“I don’t have time for you to antagonize an imbecile that can’t even talk back.” The one in red warned, and Sky felt his worry turn to anger.

“He was the one that came up to us last time! Not my fault he couldn’t even get a thought out! Tr-tre-” The one in blue mimicked. Sky felt his ears heating up in anger on behalf of their friend that was clearly being insulted. Glancing over, it seemed not even Time knew if he should speak up or keep quiet. They all seemed to have one thought running through their head: Maybe if they didn’t cause a commotion, Wild wouldn’t notice. But these two certainly weren’t quiet about their hatred towards their new friend.

“You talking about Link?” Four piped up, masking the deadly look on his face. The two patrons in front of them either didn’t notice the glares of the other Links, or they were too stupid to care.

“That the one cooking out there?” The one in blue asked, smiling arrogantly at the boy outside.

“Yup.” Four confirmed in a clipped tone. Sky admired him trying to scope out the situation, but it was obvious the hero’s patience was running short.

“Then yeah. That’s the one.” The blue on, Sky had given up on learning his name, smirked. “Dumbass kept interrupting us, stuttering and slurring. Hell, I would have felt bad for the guy if he wasn’t so annoying. There’s obviously something wrong with him.” The loud one luaghed, finding the situation far funnier than eight furious Heroes of Courage.

“That’s it-” Wind growled before lunging forward, letting out a loud ‘oof’ when his middle was caught by Time.

“If I were you, I’d keep your mouth shut.” Time leveled the man with a glare.

“Don’t tell me you’re friends with that fre-”, Sky couldn’t tell which glare was more terrifying, Time’s, or Wind’s.

“I suggest we make a deal.” Warriors’ stone cold voice spoke up. Even the one in red shot out of his thoughts for a moment. “You two stay on the other side of the stable from us, and keep your mouths shut, and we might just do the same.”

“I suggest you take that deal.” Legend spoke up, icy blue eyes trained on the two men before them. Sky could see the man’s gears turning, the one in blue glanced at the one in red, who was masking his fear far better.

“Fine.” The man in blue spit out, following his brother to the corner of the stable with his tail between his legs, not deeming the fight worth it.

“Where’s Wild?” Twilight questioned. Sky’s gaze snapped over the place where Wild sat, finding it vacant. Before Twilight could move Sky was getting out of his seat, his chair screeching against the wood floor.

“I’ll talk to him.” Was Sky’s only declaration before he was outside. He knew where this would lead, and he wasn’t going to let Wild suffer alone.

Wild tugged his hood further up, as if that could make all the bad thoughts disappear. They knew now. They knew. Of course Wild knew they would find out eventually. They surely had their doubts about Wild’s lack of speech with the scars on his neck, but Wild wanted it to be on his terms. Not some random assholes in a stable! Wild forced himself to take a deep breath from where he sat on a log that was covered in overgrown moss. He had fled to one of the nearby patches of trees after the conversation that no one even bothered to hide. Four had asked if they were talking about Link. They knew it was him, and they asked to make sure. Would they think he could talk and just… didn’t? Now that they knew would their disappointment in him begin? They had been so nice, too nice. On the other hand, that’s what Wild thought before they made name signs. For him. They made name signs specifically to make it easier on Wild. Deep down he knew the others wouldn’t be so shallow to discard him for this, but it made battles dangerous. If he saw a monster all he could do is let out a pathetic croak as one of his teammates went down. It made conversations around the fire harder too. They were nice enough to try and include Wild, but it sometimes died off when they gave him room to sign. They were trying, and Wild was trying so hard but it’s not enough-

“Wild?” He heard a calm voice call out through the woods. That was Sky. Wild mentally smacked himself. He just left them! No note, no dinner instructions, he just ran away again. Self loathing wasn’t worth it, it never had been, so why did he always run? Maybe he should make some sort of noise to let Sky know where he was, but Wild didn’t even have the energy to do that, as selfish as it was. He just hoped his cloak would stand out against the trees and moss so Sky wouldn’t be searching for long. A few minutes later his hope came true.

“Wild?” A gentle voice asked behind him. Wild didn’t respond, of course he didn’t. He heard footsteps approaching and he pushed down his panic, it was an ally, not an enemy. Wild wanted to look up, but some of him was too ashamed to do so.

“Wild? Can I sit down?” Sky said when he was finally next to the log. Wild liked Sky, he seemed kind and always asked him things. Questions, opinions, permission to do something like sit down next to him or put his bedroll near his, it made Wild feel a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. Or perhaps a certain kind of warmth he had never truly felt before. Wild simply nodded, not ready to come out of his curled position under his cloak.

“I just came to check on you.” Sky spoke as he sat down on the other side of the log, giving Wild the space the boy needed to think through everything. “What they said… it wasn’t okay Wild. Far beyond okay, it was disgusting.” Wild peered up in surprise at the venom in the other’s voice. Sky took a deep breath and continued. “Wild… can I ask you something? If that oversteps just tell me and I’ll stop or leave you alone.” Sky reassured. Wild thought for a moment. Sky wouldn’t push him, Wild could refuse to answer and the other hero wouldn’t push at all. That was just the type of man Sky was. Wild nodded once again.

“Wild… Can you talk?” Sky asked. It was just a question, just a simple yes or no should have been okay, but instead a rush of ice invaded Wild’s body. Without thinking he lifted his hands into his hair, clutching near the scalp like a lifeline. There it was. He was a damned coward, not even being upfront about why he didn’t talk to the other Links. Wild forced himself to nod his head.

“Does it… Does it hurt you?” Sky asked hesitantly. Wild nodded again, refusing to meet the other’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Wild. I know it doesn’t help but I’m sorry. I know how frustrating it is.” Wild once again glanced up in shock. He what? “Yeah.” Sky rubbed the back of his neck. “Speaking was hard for me when I was younger. I was left at the Knight’s Academy in Skyloft, my home, when I was a baby.” Sky began, looking over to see curious eyes peering from under Wild’s cloak.

“I was quiet, and even when I talked I barely said anything. It took the teachers a while to figure out that sometimes I just couldn’t get the words out. I don’t know, they just couldn’t make it past my thoughts sometimes. The other kids called me stupid or said my head was in the clouds, but Zelda spoke for me on those days and I appreciated it. It never felt like she was babying me, she just always understood what I wanted to say. I’ve gotten better at getting the words out, but it’s still hard sometimes. The other Links understand, Wild. I know our situations are different, but we’re here for you. I’m here for you.” Sky finished. His final statement said as if it were a fact Hylia herself could not dispute. There was no doubt or uncertainty. ‘We’re here for you. I’m here for you.’ The words echoed in Wild’s head. Wild had thought himself weak, but Sky wasn’t weak. Sky was one of the strongest people he’s ever met and he’d only known the man for over a week. Wild’s hands released his hair slowly, coming to rest in his lap before he raised them.

‘I feel the same. I don’t even know if it’s my scars or if it was always like that.’ Wild panicked at the mention of what was before the Shrine of Resurrection, but Sky didn’t question him. ‘But the words don’t come. I can feel them, I can think them, but they don’t come out!’ Wild finished angrily, his hands flinging to his lap once more.

“It’s frustrating.” Sky stated. It wasn’t a question, nor was it pity, it was a fact they both knew. “If you want, we can work on it.” Sky offered, smiling slightly at the pure shock on WIld’s face.

“Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Sky assured. “But Zelda and I practiced talking over the years and it helped me. Me, or any of the other Links are willing to help, Wild. It’s an option. Otherwise, none of us mind that you sign. We all have things to work around, it comes with a team.” Wild didn’t even know how to respond. Help him? Team? Those were all new to him.

‘Can I…’ Wild trailed off for a moment. Did he want that? Wild couldn’t even really imagine himself talking. What did he sound like without the claws in his throat? Perhaps Wild wanted to find out.

‘Can I think about it?’ Wild asked, forcing his hands to steady, meeting Sky’s eyes. Eyes that held no judgement or malice, just understanding.

“Of course you can!” Sky assured brightly. “Just let me know if you ever want that, or if you just never want to speak of this again. It’s completely up to you Wild.” It was up to him, not Hylia, or the King, or a destiny he never wanted, it was Wild’s choice. That felt nice.

‘Thank you.’ Wild signed simply, and they both felt the emotion behind it. A few quiet moments passed before Sky spoke up again.

“Do you want to go back?” Sky asked. Wild bit his lip.

‘I don’t want to face them.’ Wild signed honestly.

“I’m sure the others have made sure you won’t have to deal with those idiots anymore.” Sky thought back to Wind snarling.

‘Not them. The others.’ Wild corrected before turning away. Coming back to an entire group after running away in shame sent cold waves of panic through Wild.

“Oh… Yeah it’s scary, but after the amount of times Legend has left huffing and cursing I think you’ll be okay.” Sky laughed, feeling ten pounds lighter when he saw Wild’s shoulders shake a little with silent laughter. Wild finally stood slowly, followed by Sky. They began the short trek back to the stable, but one more question still plagued WIld’s mind no matter how much he tried to get rid of it. Wild snapped his fingers to get Sky’s attention.

“Hm?” Sky questioned from his place beside Wild.

‘Why help me? You don’t know me.’ Wild questioned shyly.

“What do you mean? You’re a Hero of Courage.” Wild winced at that.

‘You don’t know me.’ Wild emphasized. ‘Not well.’ Sky seemed to think for a moment.

“That’s true.” Sky confirmed. “But one day or two months, you’re one of us. We’re a group of nine now and it wouldn’t be nine without you.” Sky stated simply, waving at the distant group waiting for them at the stable.

A group of nine. Wild could live with that.

On this episode of: I Think I’m funny. “Four confirmed in a clipped tone. Sky admired him trying to scope out the situation, but it was obvious the hero’s patience was running short.” Cuz Four… short… anyway.

I love Wind so much. He is ready to fight entire armies of Ganon himself to protect his siblings old or new he will square up.

Also does this mirror my other fic “The Tavern”? Perhaps ;)

Hope you guys enjoyed!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #link #loz #legend of zelda #wild #sky #twilight #time #four #Warriors #legend #hyrule #wind #hero of wild #queenof-literature story #QoL Story

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

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All I Want for Christmas (Yearning)

The third prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts

Prompt List

**Note: For the stories actually involving Christmas, I and a few other authors changed the holiday to Hylia’s Day (credit to @fatefulfaerie for this) so that it’s more relevant to Hyrule

Cover Art: @neezlebums be sure to show some love to the original here! I cannot stress this enough guys, PLEASE go like and reblog his work. He spends hours upon hours on every single cover drawing and it’s super disheartening that he’s getting 8 notes max on things he’s working really hard on. So please give his post as much love as you give mine!

Words: 1956

Summary: Link takes Zelda out to the Festival of Hylia in the hopes that she can enjoy it as a normal kid, and they share a moment during the fireworks show.

BotW pre-calamity (not HWAOC related)

**If I don’t have explicit warnings, read with caution. It simply means there’s nothing I could think of that could be potentially triggering, but I could’ve just missed something. In that case, please let me know and I’ll be more than happy to put a warning!**

Zelink-mas 2020 l Masterlist

The concept of soulmates is rather simple for something so deep. Whether it be one soul torn into two, or a red string of fate, or two souls that found comfort in one another, the premise was the same. Lifetime after lifetime, for the eternity that was to come and go, two hearts cried out for one another. They searched high and low, across continents and oceans, across timelines and ages, yearning for their partner—their lost piece.

Yet fate could be a cruel player in the game of existence. It could drive a stake in between a set of mates, or prevent their meeting entirely. It could taunt them with the prospect of forever, and take it away at twice the speed.

It could take those souls and resurrect them only in times of destruction and decimation.

How much could a soul handle? How much could it stretch and bend before it shattered? Was it still marked by trauma all those years later, when it was finally placed into a vessel and sent back into the world?

The soul of a hero, for instance, would be battered and bruised until fate decided there was no use for it.

And until that decision was made, the hero’s soul would stay by the goddess’s side, even thousands upon thousands of years later.

An impending war, what they referred to as a Calamity, was nothing new to the old souls. Yet they were filled with optimism, a sort of youthful comfort that wrapped like a blanket, and old souls did not entirely push away childish ideas and schemes.

Said hero was scampering through the streets, hand in hand with the young goddess, both tucked under cloaks that fared as a decent disguise given most participants were too drunk to think otherwise at this point in the night.

“You cheated,” Zelda accused through a fit of giggles, but she made no move to drop the stuffed sand seal.

“I did not,” Link defended with a borderline emergent smile as he stole a glance towards the booth they’d run from. “I was just… a little better than their usual customers.”

“Yes, because their regular customers consist of skilled soldiers of Hyrule.”

“You don’t know that.”

Zelda pressed a hand over her mouth and laughed again. It got harder to suppress his smile. Something about the freedom that came with sneaking out, on top of the thrill of being where they weren’t supposed to be, left him feeling giddy and mischievous. It’d taken a while to convince Zelda to come with him, but attending the Festival of Hylia to only bestow a blessing over the kingdom wasn’t fair. They’d attended earlier in the day, with the princess wearing a grand, white dress to make her look like the goddess, and all he wanted to do was give her a chance to experience the festival as a normal kid. It was the least she deserved, after spending all of her time and effort focused on the Calamity. Of course, the only way they could actually get out was in a disguise, but Link trusted the cloaks would do their jobs so long as the late night attendees were drinking properly.

“You’re positive we won’t get caught?” she asked, for what had to be the hundredth time since they’d left the castle.

“Do you trust me?” he asked in response, fixing his eyes on hers. They were twinkling even in the darkness, and he could see the Castle Town lights reflected in her irises. When he looked at her like this, when there was no one watching them with attentive eyes, he found it hard to believe she was only Hylian. She radiated a light they couldn’t see, but he knew it was there because she was always so warm. Her eyes were always so bright.

“Yes,” she answered with a nod. Once again, Link almost smiled. But instead, he pulled her by the hand over to another booth. The worker looked too tired to care, so he didn’t have to take much caution in sliding over the rupees and asking for a soft pretzel, a caramel apple that had caught Zelda’s eye, and a set of drinks. It was just a shame they had to release hands to hold it all.

“We used to come to the festivals all the time,” Zelda said after a few bites, letting her shoulder brush against his. “My mother would play the goddess and do the blessings, but after that, father would take me around to the different games and let me play. I was never any good at it, but they gave me prizes anyway. Mother was brilliant, though. She knew just how to get past the games’ rigging. After her death, father didn’t let me stay out as long. Once I was twelve, my only purpose at the festival was to give the blessings. Did your family always come?”

“Almost every year. My father always took us the first night,” Link spoke with a nod. “Because he was on duty the other two. He tried getting my sister and I to play the games, but I was only interested in the food.”

Another giggle passed the princess’s lips.

“It sounds like you haven’t changed at all,” she replied, nudging him again.

“Except now I know how to win,” he said and gestured to the stuffed sand seal.

“I still think you cheated.”

“They cheated us first.”

Zelda had no argument to that one. Link tossed the paper from his pretzel into the trash, then adjusted the fasten on his cloak.

“Do you think we’ll be able to see the fireworks?” she asked. “I used to watch them from my window all the time.”

“I don’t know if it’s better than the view from your window, but I know a place,” he replied. Zelda slipped an arm around his, like she’d done it a thousand times before, and he ducked his head to hide his face from the overhanging light.

“I’ll have to see it in order to judge,” she said simply. He fought back a smile and pulled her through the streets of Castle Town once more, until they’d reached the outskirts.

Link jumped up to grab the tree branch above them, then turned and held his hands out to her. Apparently his intentions were clear because even in the darkness, he could see that Zelda was appalled.

“We can’t climb on a random person’s house! Link! Get down!” she yelled in a whisper, but he just let the grin cover his face.

“It’s empty. For sale, I think,” he replied with a shrug. She looked around, as if she wanted to make sure they were really alone, before taking his hands. He pulled her into the tree effortlessly, then boosted her up onto the roof of a Castle Town house. “It’s no castle view, but you won’t be eye-level with the fireworks.”

“You can see the entire festival from here,” she spoke when he joined her at the top. “It’s not just lights. You can see everything. How did you..?”

“There was one year when my father had to attend all three nights, so it was just my sister and I. We ran out of rupees trying one of the games, and she was really upset, so I just.. snatched a prize and ran. We climbed onto a roof and stayed there for the rest of the festival, until I was sure he hadn’t sent any soldiers after us. It gave us a pretty good view.”

“You thief!” Zelda accused, giving him a shove. Link bit back a laugh.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever told. So now you’re the holder of some pretty powerful information.”

She hummed in thought and leaned her head against the plushie.

“I could do so much with this. I could tell everyone and finally have my freedom from you.”

“I don’t know if stealing a plushie from a festival booth ten years ago is enough to get me demoted.”

“It’s a serious crime,” but he could hear the laughter in Zelda’s voice. He turned to face her just as the first of the fireworks went off, drowning her in a soft yellow light. Even if he wanted to watch the fireworks, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She was in a category all of her own, and the word beautiful couldn’t describe her in her entirety.

He could call her hair golden, but it still didn’t capture her richness. He could compare her eyes to emeralds, and it still wouldn’t tell how precious they were. He could say her voice was a melody, and it still couldn’t describe how much he loved the song she sang each time she spoke. With every passing day, she grew more and more into the goddess whose blood she carried in her veins. She radiated a power and displayed a wisdom he’d never seen before, yet it felt so familiar to him that it never surprised him. He could watch her for hours, whether she was studying the Sheikah technology or praying at the foot of a goddess statue (not that he did, obviously, because that was sacred and private). It didn’t feel like a job--it never had. He’d give his life for her over and over again, like it was written into his blood and soul. Like he’d done it before.

With how far they’d come, Link wondered just how much could one feel for a single person. If he could shield her from the world, he would. But she didn’t need that. Zelda was strong and independent, but what he wouldn’t give to remain by her side for as long as he could.

She took his arm again and rested her head against his shoulder. Her hold was as gentle as she. Her fingers intertwined with his and he gave her hand a small squeeze.

“Link?”

He hummed to let her know he was listening and ready to answer any question she wanted to ask.

“What do you want for Hylia’s Day?”

The gift giving tradition held true even to this year, but Link didn’t quite know how to answer her. What he really wanted was her. He wanted her to be happy and safe and secure. He wanted the goddess to respond, and for her powers to awaken so she could just enjoy whatever time they had left.

Was there a stronger word that fit this feeling than yearning? Yearning for Zelda and her life and her future.

He bit his cheek in thought, because none of that could be said aloud.

“I want a promise,” he replied at last. “that once this is all over, you’ll keep researching. And that maybe I can stay your knight attendant for as long as you can tolerate me.”

She almost laughed.

“Link.. I can’t promise anything. If I can’t awaken this power, then-“

“You will,” he said, holding her hand tighter. “I believe in you.”

Zelda smiled at him—weak and small, but it still filled him with a warmth that made him feel all the more confident.

“I want a day off to just relax with our friends,” she stated, returning her head to his shoulder.

“All of our friends?”

“Yes, even Revali.”

Link chuckled and shook his head, watching the last of the fireworks pop. He’d never felt more relaxed than he did then. It was like they belonged there. Something about her was so calming that he didn’t want to go back to the castle just yet.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly into the quieting night. “For tonight.”

He wished he could kiss her.

Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze and said, “Anything you want, Princess. Just say the word.”

#zelink #botw link #botw zelda #botw zelink #zelink prompts #christmas prompts #take a shot every time one of my fics shits on revali #it's a common theme #can u tell I dislike the bird manchild #link just kiss her it's fine i promise u #it'll even do u all some good

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xiao8-bb · 4 years

Text

Man, I Feel Like A

A Linked Universe fic

[chapter 1]

Chapter 2: A Sticky Situation [posted on ao3 here]

At what point is it considered appropriate to tell your travelling companions you’re actually a man, and at what point are you supposed to take the secret to your grave? Wild has no idea and it’s driving him mad with anxiety. He’s kinda waffling towards keeping it a secret forever at this point.

It’s not like he’s a man all the time. He was genuinely just having a lot of girl days at first and so forgot about the problem, and he didn’t bother to correct anyone on a boy day when they happened. But now it’s been a few months, he’s been a boy consistently for at least a week now, and if anyone calls him “she” one more time he thinks he might solve his problem purely through violence and yelling.

This is such a weird problem. He’s used to the opposite in his Hyrule, where he’d be having girl days and be constantly called “young man” or whatever.

The funniest part? He wasn’t even a girl when he first met them. He came straight out of Gerudo Town after talking with Riju on a boy day and didn’t think to correct them, and now look. It’s been months.

Gender is an awful curse sent down by Hylia Herself for using Her name in vain too often, and now Wild has to reap the consequences. What a vindictive goddess. He endeavors to use it all the more wastefully whenever he has this thought.

Usually it’s not much of an issue. He calls his ever shifting moods “girl days,” “boy days,” “goron days” for the times he feels more neither than anything. Almost always, he feels like… half a gender at most. Like he took a bite out of an apple and found that enough.

On girl days she fixes in an earring Issha recommended and calls it a day. She hardly ever bothers correcting people, like how the Gorons won’t mind if you call one sister instead of brother. On boy days, he puts in a different kind and knows it’s enough. Even if the Gerudo call him Little Hylian Vai (as they’ve taken to nicknaming him), he feels about the same as he always does. Goron days are the easiest, where they forgo the earrings entirely. There’s the little thrill when someone gets it right, but it’s not a big deal. Link is Link, after all. At his core, no matter if he’s called Wild or Link or Champion, no matter if he’s called a boy or a girl or, once, a hellion menace to society, he’s always solely himself. Gender feels more like an accessory than it does part of his identity.

Except it’s been months, and Wild is going insane. He didn’t realize how much he depended on the occasional slivers of—validation? insightfulness? understanding?—having someone call him correctly. His friends back home knew, at least in few in almost every major settlement, and they always referred to him correctly after checking his ears.

At the risk of being redundant: Wild has gone months without that. In one go, he solved the problem of being referred to almost solely as a man and ended up with the problem of being referred to solely as a woman.

And now the second problem: how in the name of Hylia (blessed goddess who is the source of all his troubles) is he supposed to tell the others?

Hey, I know you’ve been under the impression I’m a woman this whole time, but surprise, I’m actually a man! Except it’s not all the time, but today I am and have been for the past week.

Could you do me a favor and call me he until I tell you to stop, and to keep doing that if I ever ask again?

You know when that man in the town two portals back said to grow some balls and take up his gambling challenge? Might’ve found a solution to that.

“What’re you muttering to yourself?” Twilight asks, and Wild nearly drops his armful of mushrooms back to the ground with a squeak. He turns with wide eyes to see the rancher raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing!”

He gets a disbelieving sigh at that, but he’ll take it. Better Twilight believe he’s planning to dump Goron spice into someone’s bowl than hear what he’s saying before he’s found the words.

Wild stands up from his crouch, disappearing his haul into the slate. “Did you get the herbs I asked for?” At Twilight’s affirmative, they start heading back to the camp in companionable quiet. They hadn’t wandered too far off, but it’s still a walk back.

It’s Twilight who breaks the silence first. “Say, Wild…” He stops, both verbally and motion-wise, forcing Wild to stop as well. Wild looks up at the man��s face. There’s hesitance writ in the uptick of his mouth, and his gaze is unreadable. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

“Huh? What brought this on?”

“Ah, it’s been a few months since you’ve joined our group, hasn’t it? Got thinking, ‘s all. You’ve got a good heart, so don’t hesitate to let us know if anything’s bothering you.” He reaches out and ruffles Wild’s hair, smile widening into something genuine when Wild protests and pulls back. “You’ve been looking a bit down.”

He… hadn’t realized his mood has been that obvious. Wild looks down and kicks the dirt under his feet, hoping his ears aren’t as red as they feel. A sincere, well-intentioned talk about his feelings? Horrible. Worst experience of his life. “I’ll—” His voice catches. “I’ll be fine, Twi.”

He doesn’t need to look up to know Twilight is giving him that look, the one Wind calls the Big Brother Face. “If you say so. Just know we’ll be willing to listen and support you,” he says, gentle as if Wild is one of his goats.

Wild runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling warmth and dread in equal amounts prick at him. “Of course.”

And he’s not lying. They’re all kind people at heart. No one will care. You don’t know that for sure, a little nagging voice says. You lied to them for months, another hisses. Should’ve spoken up earlier. He can imagine the twinge of hurt in Hyrule’s face, the particular furrow in Legend’s forehead, the way Wind’s smile will drop a little if he tells them he’s been lying for so long and, worse, that they might’ve been hurting him, unintentional though it may be. They’re too kind, is the problem.

It would’ve been one thing if he’d told them earlier. Easier to laugh off, to brush aside as something that hadn’t crossed his mind until just then. Like it wasn’t an intentional farce—it wasn’t! Wild isn’t different at all, not where it matters. Clothing doesn’t factor into it, because he’d wear whatever regardless of gender. Neither does the way he acts, because a sashay is fun to pull off at any time, and as a girl Link has no problem swimming shirtless. He’s just been going with the flow.

It feels like a farce though. He never lied, not really, but he didn’t fix any of their assumptions, didn’t say anything, for months. It’s a lie of omission that sits sour on the back of his tongue.

Twilight clicks his tongue, waiting until Wild looks back up at him to speak. “Is it dangerous? Whatever’s bothering you.” He doesn’t seem stern or any more solemn than earlier, just an open, neutral expression on his face.

Uncomfortable, yes. Dangerous? No, not unless they run into a monster that feeds off conflicted guilt and pent up frustration. Wild shakes his head.

“Then I’m not gonna pry. I’ll keep Time from trying to dad you too, if you want.”

Unbidden, a giggle slips out of Wild. “‘Dad’ me?”

“You didn’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed you’ve been down, did you? I just got first dibs.”

Wild lets himself laugh fully at that, ignoring the stone in his stomach.

Warriors flicks his gaze to the campfire, where a still-smiling Wild sits in front of a cooking pot. She and Twilight had returned a while ago, snickering like mischievous children while sneaking looks to Time. Old Man’s probably going to get some nasty purple chu jelly in his dinner tonight, he’s assuming. A bit of a surprise she’s got Twilight in on it, though.

It’s good to see that Wild’s in a better mood than before. She’s been… not sullen, but a tension none of them can ease has been sitting on her shoulders for a few weeks now. There’s nothing obvious that brought it on, but it’s heavy enough that even Legend will have worry flashing across his face whenever Wild pulls away from their group with no indication as to why.

“She’ll say something when she’s ready to,” he hears Twilight murmur to Time. They’ve got some mentor/mentee plan going on to get Wild out of her mood. Successful, he supposes; she’s been dropping off into frowns whenever left alone in her thoughts for too long, but right now she’s almost definitely brightened up enough to pull a prank.

Still, he can’t help but scoot over to insert himself into the conversation. “It’s not anything dangerous, right?” He trusts that she would tell them if it were; Wild is the least team friendly player in their group, but she’s got enough sense in her to know what’s necessary.

Twilight shakes his head. “Confirmed it wasn’t.” Here he hesitates, and his words come out slow, deliberate. “I’m not sure if it’s… one of her memories? I don’t remember there being one before she started acting weird, but it might’ve come as a dream.”

Warriors purses his lips, thinking. It could be. He’s certainly entertained the thought before. Wild doesn’t fall into a memory too often, but they’re hard to hide, so everyone became aware of her amnesia and subsequent flashbacks sooner than later. Almost always she’ll draw into herself a bit, hidden away in a large cloak until the world stopped being too loud and bright for her, and even then Wild would still be withdrawn until something coaxed her out of her shell.

It doesn’t feel like it, though.

He takes another look at Twilight’s face. It says it all. “You don’t think that’s it.”

The rancher really is a farm boy through and through, honest as the day is long. “I overheard her talking to herself earlier, but I’m not sure what I heard and it’s not my place to say anyway.”

A sigh, and Time hauls himself up to his feet. “Then we wait,” he says decisively. They watch him amble over and strike a conversation with Four about the forest they’ve landed in. Twilight goes back to sharpening his sword.

Warriors’s mind is still stuck on Wild, though, and he’d bet a bag of rupees so is Twilight’s.

He prides himself on being a good commander. Quick to judge a situation and quick to notice if anything is wrong, able to lead squadrons of forces with only minutes to prepare. Often, his command was too numerous for him to know everyone, but he did his best to be there for anyone who needed it. Perhaps it’s foolish of him—too many faces, half-familiar from life, unmistakable in death haunt him to this day—but he refuses to give up caring. It hurts, but to hurt is to be alive, and he carries his ghosts with him even as he locks eyes with a new trainee.

Here, their motley group is a lot smaller than the armies he used to command. He’s never been an older brother before, but he finds himself falling into it naturally. It’s easy to tug on the back of Hyrule’s tunic to keep him from wandering off, normal to nudge Four and encourage him to keep talking about smithing, effortless to pull Wind into a friendly scuffle. With Wild, he finds himself looking after her like it’s instinct.

Maybe it’s because she’s still young at heart. The scars riddling her face and body age her up years, but there’s something heartwrenchingly childlike about the way she’ll wander off from the group to catch a bug or pick a plant, not understanding why they’ll scold her to stick with them. She’ll often show her finds off, grinning like there aren’t a million twigs in her hair and mud on her face.

It’s painful to see someone like that pull away without any indication as to why.

He sighs, leaning back on his palms to look at the evening sky. The brightest stars are beginning to shine, flickering around the rising moon. The smell of sweetly roasted vegetables wash over him. Quick headcount: Sky and Wind sparring; Twilight sitting nearby; Legend checking their perimeter, Hyrule with him; Four and Time talking about where to go; Wild at the campfire, standing up and stretching.

“Dinner’s ready!” she announces, loud enough that Legend and Hyrule should hear. Without waiting, she begins pulling out plates from her slate and spooning out portions. Warriors watches her closely enough that he sees the glob of something purple being hidden under some greens.

Definitely purple chu jelly from Twilight.

It travels down the line, Warriors hesitating before handing it off to Time, who’s last. It’s all in good fun though, and Wild’s figured out (after much trial-and-error) how to make sure the jelly doesn’t kill anyone, so he keeps quiet, only checking his own plate to make sure he’s not going to be a victim as well. Wild catches his eye and winks. Twilight, across the campfire, has a little feral edge to his grin.

Warriors watches with bated breath as Time takes a scoop of his food. It’s riveting, seeing his expression go from pleased and content to I-will-kill-whoever-did-this. Reminds him of the little pissed off kid he knew before meeting him again as an adult.

Time raises his head to glare balefully at Wild. “Why did you do this.” It falls flat of being a question.

“Do what?” Wild asks back, eyes wide and confused. “I thought you liked carrots?”

Wind giggles into his own meal, shoveling another bite into his mouth when that earns him an unamused look. “I didn’ do nothin’!” he protests before Time even starts saying the accusation. “Yer face wa’ funny.”

“Don’t talk while chewing,” Sky reminds him. “Time, what’s wrong with it? Mine tastes fine?”

Without speaking, Time takes another scoop and presents the purple chuchu glob. The camp falls into hysterics, speaking all at once.

“Some weird seasoning you’ve got there, Old Man.”

“Are you going to need a potion?”

“Where did someone even get their hands on that?”

Warriors sits back, letting the rambunctious laughter and chatter surround him. Wind denies it some more, pointing to Hyrule, who was apparently looking at Time’s dinner too intently. Hyrule denies it right back, pushing the blame to someone else too. There’s shouts of protest as accusations go flying. He tunes it out, just smiling to himself. A small prank, but a big reception. It’s nice to see spirits so high, especially Wild’s.

He’s too busy feeling reassured at Wild’s bright, impish grin that he nearly misses the accusation thrown at him.

“—paused before giving it to Time, too.” Legend says this nonchalantly, but one’d have to be blind to miss the smirk he shoots Warriors as he says it. “Seems suspicious to me.”

Twilight makes a faux thoughtful noise, failing to hide his laughter as Warriors whips his head around to stare in betrayal. “He was rummaging through our bags earlier, could’ve taken it from mine or Wild’s packs then.”

Warriors splutters, “I was taking inventory! You know, the thing I do every other night?”

There’s a little gasp from Four, too theatrical to be natural. “He was staring at Time when we started eating too…”

Betrayal! Ganged up on by the miserable lot he dared call his brothers!

Clearly they’ve figured out it wasn’t him. Wild’s just about collapsed with laughter at the sight of his panicked face, but it’s obvious no one wants to spoil her fun. Time gives him the sternest, most I-am-your-father-listen-to-me face he can muster and says, “What do you have to say for yourself, Warriors? Why would you put purple chu jelly in this delightful meal Wild worked hard on?”

Warriors is speechless. Wild titters, looks up to see Time raising an eyebrow at Warriors, and breaks back out into gleeful wheezing. Wind and Legend don’t seem to be far off, delighted at his misfortune.

Golden goddesses, the things he does for family. “You’ve done it,” he says, strangled, “you’ve caught me in my dastardly tricks. Oh woe is me, what punishment will I be given?” Sky is the next to break, hiding his laughter behind a hand.

Time, the little snot, looks at him with thin, disappointed lips and mirth dancing in his eyes. “This,” he intones gravely. The purple chu jelly jumps from his spoon and smacks into Warriors’s face.

Even Twilight is losing it now.

“ARGH!” he squawks, not expecting Time to actually go through with it. It’s to the others’ cackling that he slumps to the ground, groaning at the sticky feeling on his cheek. He can deal with a little grossness (no matter what Legend says), but it’s not a nice feeling when he could be clean and not sticky.

Someone hands him a clean cloth. Hyrule, bless his heart. It’s one of Twilight’s cloths, so he feels no guilt in scrubbing off the jelly and throwing it at the traitor himself. Twilight takes the assault with a grin, the infectious mood lingering even as the laughter calms down.

“Here.” A scarred hand dips into view, and Wild refills Warriors’s bowl with some fried greens fresh from the pot. Steam rises up lazily. She smiles at him through it, cheerful and alive like she hasn’t been for the past week, and he instantly forgives her for pulling him into her prank.

He takes a bite and sighs. Fresh, still sweet yet crispy from quickly frying it. “Delicious as ever,” he compliments, trying to force some grudge into his tone. Wild sees right through him and beams wider. “Oh, shove off.” He wipes a hand, still a little sticky with goo, across her nose, grinning himself when she shrieks a little in delight.

“Be careful, mister, or else the goo’s going in your meal next!” she teases before scampering off to her own meal.

It’s sometime after dinner that Time approaches him. “Thank you for playing along.”

Across the clearing, Wild’s wide grin has dropped to a faint upturn of her lips. She’s scuffling with Wind and the large wolf that follows their group every now and then, trying to claim a sleeping spot. She’s happy, and after the past week of halfhearted interaction, it feels like everything.

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

The sun’s rays are beginning to skim past the treetops when Wild wakes up. Legend notices immediately; there isn’t anything hostile in the area, so he’s been sitting closer to camp for the past hour now. He doesn’t say anything when she sneaks out—at least, not at first. When she doesn’t return after 10 minutes, 20, he shakes Twilight awake to keep watch before following.

She hasn’t gone far, just within hearing range if someone shouts. Legend stands at the treeline, watching her pull and put back different earrings from that slate of hers. Studs, hoops, drops, different fashions he can’t name, all reflective of masterful craftsmanship. They gleam in the early morning light as she holds each pair up for examination.

“You can choose today’s accessories from the camp, you know,” he calls out. Wild, to her credit, doesn’t react other than her shoulders raising a few centimeters. “Pretty sure Wind won’t try stealing them.”

That earns a short laugh. “He wouldn’t dare unless he wants his breakfast burned. Besides, I’m just… trying to decide how I feel today. Hard to do that around that noisy lot.”

Legend stops in his tracks. Normally he’d like to tease, but there’s something brittle about her voice. “Want me to leave then?” he offers. He may be a prick, but he’s not about to inflict his presence on someone who needs some time alone.

Finally, Wild turns to look at him. “No, stay,” she says, and even she looks surprised at how firmly she says it. She pats the stone next to her. “C’mon, sit with me for a while.”

It’s nice and quiet in the spot Wild’s chosen. He sits with his back to her, not wanting to crowd. Faintly, the tittering of birds sweeten the air, and if he closes his eyes and focuses he can smell the rich petrichor lingering from yesterday’s early evening rain. Wild goes back to picking out earrings, the faint chime of her slate’s magic rhythmic in its repetition.

It’s like this often, Legend finds. They’re both pretty silent people on their own, and perhaps not as close as they are with some of the others. Sure, they jibe and bicker, but to avoid too much tension they end up not seeking each other out. Legend isn’t even sure if he wants to be close to Wild anyway; she’s almost guaranteed to die violently young and violently so, given her track record of scars and reckless combat techniques.

Still, his treacherous heart cares, and he heaves a sigh as he thinks of her recent melancholy. A conversation wouldn’t hurt, right?

“You’ve been wearing a lot of stud earrings lately,” he says. He doesn’t turn to look, but the chiming stops. “Maybe one of those dangling ones? The amber gems give a nice glow to you.”

Quietly, so faint he almost misses it, Wild replies back, “...Maybe.” He risks a glance to guess her expression; she’s staring distantly at her hands, eyes locked on a struggle Legend can’t see. “Change things up a little, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, though she doesn’t see it. “You don’t have to go with my suggestion,” he points out. “If you want to wear studs, wear studs. They get tangled up less in the twigs and branches you insist on jumping headfirst into, at any rate.”

“And if I don’t want to wear any at all?”

What an odd question. Legend fully turns around to squint at her. “Then don’t? What, am I missing some watchmen that will arrest you if you don’t put some metal in your ears?”

Wild huffs a laugh at that, but it’s half hearted. “No, I don’t think so. Don’t mind me, I’m just overthinking things.”

“Overthinking… types of earrings?” He doesn’t mean to sound so doubtful, but Wild is both a ridiculous fashionista and someone who could not care less for her appearance. She’s got a multitude of outfits, sure, but she’s never exactly cared if they matched or how she looked as a result (leading to a very distressing time where she sprinted through Twilight’s Castletown wearing her Barbarian shorts, clunky torso armor that glowed, and an odd mask that looked like a fish was eating her head. He’s pretty sure they’re banned from the inn for life).

She shakes her head. “No, forget it, it’s… related, but it’s not—” This time, her head shake is harsher, more aggressive. “It’s got some meaning for me,” she reveals reluctantly under Legend’s interrogating stare. “What type of earrings I wear, I mean.”

He considers this, lining it up with the past week. He almost wants to ask “why would you ever wear earrings that make you feel horrible?”, but obviously that isn’t an option. Choosing wearing a specific type probably isn’t an option she has, either. Something dictates the type she wears regardless of how she feels, but how could a type of earrings make one feel bad…?

Hylia, this is giving Legend a headache.

“Are the earrings hurting you?” he settles on asking. There’s no way he’s getting the full story out of her anytime soon, but the important answers need to be established first.

“Wh—? No, they’re fine.”

“Do they upset you? Is that why you’ve been weird this past week?”

“... it’s not the earrings, not really. Kind of? It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it, then.”

He gets a jab to the side for that. “I don’t know how to,” she admits, bitterness sharpening her tongue. “I’m working on it, okay? I’m… I’ll be fine, just give me some time to figure it out.”

Legend jabs her right back, tickling her sides for good measure and ignoring her squeak. “Well, figure it out faster,” he says drolly. “Whatever it is you’ve got going in your head can’t be that bad, considering it’s mostly empty in the first place.”

Now that earns him a tackle right off the rock, and they tussle around like children for a few minutes before wordlessly agreeing to stop, flopping onto the grass to stare at the brightening sky. Neither of them are breathing very hard, but Legend thinks he can hear Wild’s become lighter, less burdened. He bites his tongue to focus his thoughts.

“Just wear whatever you feel like wearing, you menace. If it’s not the earrings making you feel bad, then deal with whatever is making you act like a kicked puppy.” He kicks out blindly and catches her ankle. “If it’s one of us, or something we’re doing, or, I don’t know, maybe you’re just allergic to the grass here, tell us. If it’s something from your past, then however you deal with it is up to you, but between the nine of us we’ve got all sorts of trauma covered, it’ll be easy to commiserate with someone.”

He rolls over to speak and finds her already looking at him. “Uncomplicate it. Whatever it is, either you’ll get past this or you won’t, but things will only get worse if you let it stagnate.”

Wild breaks eye contact first, sitting up but gaze fixed low. At this angle, he can’t see her face. “Get it over with, basically. I guess that’s good advice.”

The sky looks bright enough that the others are probably awake by now. “Of course it is,” he says. She’s not going to take it, at least not right now, he can tell. “Decide on the earrings yet?”

Clacks of fingernail against glass. The now-familiar chime of the Sheikah slate. “Studs again today.”

“Amber?”

“Amber, yeah. You made a good point.”

“I always make good points.”

A snort, and they fall back into silence. It feels like a moment in eternity before Wild speaks up again. “We should make it back to camp.” She sounds almost regretful, and Legend feels it too. The area is warm and peaceful, and it feels like a crime to have to spend the entire day trekking their way through an adventure no one signed up for.

Neither of them move. He closes his eyes, feeling the morning sun warm his skin.

“Legend?”

It takes a moment to respond, the siren call of sleep beginning to pull at his senses. “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He hums, not resisting the lull of the little bubble they’re in. “No problem.”

#linkeduniverse #botw #fic #lu wild #lu warriors #lu legend #lu twilight #theyre all there but im pretty sure those're the big ones #man i feel like a (fic)#did i forget to post this on tumblr! maybe. who knows. haha...ha........#yeah i forgot #cw misgendering #i dont think i should uhhh @ the prompt tumblr so i guess. uh. hope theyll just find this on their own #i Will edit ch1 to include the link to this tho #<:3c enjoy!!!! hopefully

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midzelink · 4 years

Text

Day 2 - Found

MIDLINK WEEK 2020

(In which Midna is happy to be home, even if only for a little while. This one got kinda outta hand. Takes place shortly after the final battle with Zant.)

* * * * *

“A-ha! Found you!”

If Link had had any idea about what, exactly, Midna had been rummaging around for in that long-abandoned room in a remote corner of the palace, the small, and what appeared to be fairly unassuming stone she emerges with had definitely been far-flung from it. Yet the way she cradles it enthusiastically, as though she’d recovered a keepsake once thought misplaced, he can only imagine what secrets it might hold, what precious memories might lie therein. She draws near him, holding it aloft that he might get a closer look.

Is— Is this what you wanted to show me? he says but doesn’t say; he doesn’t need to, as she’s already begun to answer it. “This isn’t it,” she explains, eyes wide and brimming with something akin to glee, “but we’ll need it where we’re going. Come on, quickly, we’re going to miss it!”

Miss it? Miss what? She silences him, unintentionally, before he gets the chance to ask, hurriedly taking him by the hand as she guides him through long and unfamiliar halls, imposing and angular, to where, oh, where he wouldn’t be able to venture a guess. They move swiftly, too swiftly, the carved obsidian and low blue light of the twilit palace rushing past them in a terrible whirlwind, and Link has to resist the urge to free himself from her grasp, remembering the off-kilter, near-pleading words she had carefully offered him not but an hour ago:

“Hey… Link? Before we go back to Hyrule...”

The Hylian had resigned himself never to admit it (gods, how could he, after how highly she had spoken of her home?), but from the moment the two of them had stepped foot into the realm beyond the Mirror, he had wanted nothing more desperately than to return to the comfort of the light. Thrice before he had pierced the veil and taken on the form of a divine beast; he was no stranger to the twilight, oppressive and dour though it may be, but here, in the comfort of his own skin, it is all the more disconcerting, as though the fur coat he had worn as a wolf had been the only thing sheltering him from the thickness of the surrounding air.

The air. Gods be damned, the air, barren and foul, was it even air at all? It rushes past them as they meander through rooms and corridors that blend together into one identical haze, and it threatens to siphon the life from his body with every painstaking breath. It is neither warm nor cool, neither brisk nor stifling; it is an absence, a sensation he does not have the vocabulary to sufficiently articulate, yet the longer he stays here, he swears, he cannot breathe, gods, he doesn’t remember how to breathe, the black walls around him are closing in and snuffing him out, and he is suffocating, anchored to a ball and chain at the bottom of a deep, dark lake, drowning with no salvation in sight...

Had Midna felt this way, too, when she had arrived in a world that was not her own? He recalls, briefly, how much it had been her own custom to loudly complain about Hyrule and its inhabitants at her own discretion, before Zant had happened, before Zelda had happened. And then a more horrid thought strikes him: one of being trapped in this realm with no way out, as Midna, too, had been trapped. He feels the cold grip of terror begin to grasp him as he imagines something happening to the Mirror on the other side, where he can do naught to reassemble it...

Pull yourself together. You can stay a little while longer. For her sake.

Not soon enough, the black and blue blur of the palace walls slowly come to stop. They stand before a carefully polished but otherwise nondescript stretch of wall in a room Link believes to reside on one of the monolith’s top levels, and Midna again draws their attention to the artifact she had been so determined to retrieve. “This stone,” she begins excitedly (excitedly, of all things, what had gotten into her?), “is...sort of like a spare key, to a portal, here in the palace. It leads to a place that’s a secret to everybody except members of the royal family. It can usually be opened with a bit of royal magic, but…” She trails off, perhaps loath to admit that even after they had defeated Zant and retrieved every piece of the Fused Shadow, she was still cursed, the magic that was rightfully hers as the true leader of the Twili lost to her. Shaking her head, she continues on. “But this is how we get in without it. I, uh, used to use it to sneak up here all the time, when I was a kid,” she admits rather sheepishly, and for a moment, the image of a younger, and somehow rowdier Midna causing trouble within the very walls he now graces is almost enough to distract him from how impossibly heavy his chest feels. Almost.

He takes a moment to more carefully consider what Midna had said, and he finds himself wondering if the room they had torn apart from corner to corner looking for the so-called “spare key” had once been hers—but before he can think to ask, another thought strikes him: Wait, only members of the royal family know about this place? ...Is it okay for me to be here? He suddenly feels uneasy, as though he were about to deface hallowed ground, but this goes unnoticed by the Twili, who raises the stone to the wall expectantly. After a moment, it begins to glow gently, and then all at once a portal, not dissimilar to the ones they had so frequently used to traverse the lengths of Hyrule, appears before them. She turns her attention on him, eager as ever. “Are you ready?”

He isn’t, but nods anyway; the portal activates, and he feels the familiar sensation of his body slowly stripping itself away, until he can feel nothing, nothing at all—but they emerge whole, as they always did, as they fully expected to. There is a moment where he allows himself to adjust; he flexes his fingers, lets his eyes focus in on the relative brightness of his new surroundings...

..and he blinks.

They stand on a platform, of sorts, in a place that at first appears to fly far below the palace and the many other isles of the realm, but closer inspection makes the young man wonder if “below” is a word that even holds meaning in this place. The palace looked to be far above them, true; but the dark obelisk of the towering structure was pointing towards them, as though it were hanging upside down, a precarious chandelier suspended leagues out of reach, yet clearly visible despite the distance. And it wasn’t just the palace, no; like a world map plastered onto the inside of an incomprehensibly large dome, it’s as though he can see everything, everything at once, and Link has to steady himself against the sheer magnitude of it all, against the gut feeling that he could fall at any given moment.

“It’s not real,” she starts calmly, when she notices the increasingly dizzying expression on her companion’s face. “Not in a physical sense, that is. But from here, the rulers of my world have long been able to watch over their kingdom and its people in their entirety, that they might better serve them. They can connect with them, feel what they’re feeling, their contentment, their suffering…”

The Twili speaks so distantly of royalty Link cannot help but wonder how long she had been a princess before the Usurper King had unceremoniously dethroned her. And speaking of the “king,” she continues thusly: “Zant caused so much suffering, but now that the Sols have been returned to their pedestals, they’ll be able to give life to the realm and its people again, and anyone still under the effects of his foul magic should be restored. I wanted you to see this at least once, before we go,” she confesses, though the sentiment is rather lost on the Hylian, who furrows his brow quizzically. I could always come back and see this later, right? He cannot say that the thought of returning to the realm of shadows willingly is a pleasant one by any means, but he imagines it will be all the more bearable once the threat of disaster looming over Hyrule Castle has been dealt with, and its princess saved.

But he is here, now, and there is something so hopelessly endearing about his companion’s enthusiasm, so mind-bogglingly human about the way her small body bobs through the air like a leaf on rippling water, near-bursting at the mere thought of whatever it was was about to happen. But what, what’s going to happen? As if on cue, the princess of twilight frantically begins pointing upwards, urging her companion to lift his gaze to meet it. “Oh! Oh, it’s starting!”

He looks up on cue, towards the palace, towards the distant but unmistakable light of the Sols he had not long ago retrieved. He blinks once…

...and nothing changes.

He blinks a second time…

...and something, something changes.

The soft glow of the spheres far above them grows in intensity—slowly at first, but it quickly catches on, radiating in pulses and spreading out from the center. It pours through the very earth, then the sky, till it touches everything he can see, dancing like the intricate ballet of a million shooting stars, before spiralling back in, rhythmically, like the world itself was breathing, was alive—and there is a humming all around them, like the chorus of a thousand people crying out in joy, joy for their princess who had finally returned to them, joy for the freedom they had so long awaited, freedom they now knew without a doubt was theirs. The swirling light they stand amidst is not true light, he knows that, not like the light of the sun in his world—but despite that, despite everything, he understands why his companion had so dearly wanted him to see this, of all things, and why she had insisted they come here to do so. It was, for lack of a better phrase...quite the sight to behold.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispers as she places a hand on his shoulder, eyes fixed on the surrounding kingdom, her kingdom, the one she had fought so valiantly to return to—and when he steals a glance at her, a wide, snaggletoothed grin swelling up and spilling out from the fullness of her heart, he cannot help but think that maybe, just maybe, the twilight isn’t so bad after all.

Because for a moment, Link swears that he can breathe again.

Yeah, he says but doesn’t say. It really is.

34 notes · View notes

dinfeanoriel · 4 years

Text

The Hand

A little fic that has absolutely no point to it. Enjoy!

~~~~

“Don’t tell me this place is seriously called the Crack Pot Inn…” The Knight of the rag-tag group of Heroes, Warrior, muttered aloud when his gaze landed on the most-welcome, if somewhat run-down, inn. The Links had warped into another world and were now working to uncover whose Hyrule they had entered.

So far, no luck.

But seeing as it was late into the night, Time had decided it was time to retire. It was by a meager stroke of luck Wolfie had sniffed out a village.

“Clearly not the only thing on crack,” Came Legend’s quick-witted reply.

Wild smothered a snort. The snarky Hero was filled to the brim with sarcastic retorts and barbed jabs. He never failed to use them, either. They were quick to fly from his tongue, taking, perhaps, .1 seconds to fire.

They came faster than Wild could unleash a flurry of attacks, and that, he found impressive.

“Boys, behave,” The leader of the nine murmured, his low voice carrying into the night.

“Sure thing, Pops,”

Wolfie huffed. Wind figured it was a laugh in disguise. They followed after Time as he began the descent into the village located at the bottom of the hill. Their eyes took in everything of the quiet and slumbering place...

The worn buildings, cobblestone roads, dark alleyways, and bright colors.

Incredibly bright colors. Curtains were a shade of pinks, purples, blues, and oranges Hyrule had never before seen and wondered how anyone could find attractive. The paint job was something that made even Wild cringe.

Some houses had polka dots, others multi-colored stripes, and some littered with swirls and optical illusions. The patterns were horrendous. He looked long and hard for any potion shops and places to restock. It was a difficult feat, since the abhorrent color combinations were making his eyes hurt.

“The Batty Emporium?” Wind’s soft, incredulous, voice pierced the silence that had fallen.

Legend looked vaguely impressed.

“This place just keeps getting better.”

Time quirked an eyebrow at the...questionable village and its peculiar taste in style. The sheer lavishness and overabundance of decoration…

“In all my long life and journeys, I have never stumbled across such a remarkably horrendous sight…” He remarked mostly to himself. All of the Links heard him and couldn’t agree more.

You’re telling me… Twilight groused in wolf form. And he’d thought Fyer and Falbi were...unique individuals…

That was putting it lightly.

There were streamers tied pole-to-pole. Straight across, zig-zag, diagonal or in some other unusual unrecognizable design. Elaborate and exaggerated posters decorated windows, market stalls, and doors. The stalls themselves were bright and sparkly. A never-ending stream of cringeworthy sights for the Links to abhor.

Then came the game, commenced by Wild and continued by the rest. Find the most outrageous, individualistic, and… unique… business.

“The Nutty Almond,” The Hero of the Wilds pointed at the sign hanging from above the door of the nearest building.

Sky hid a grin. Of course Wild spotted The Nutty Almond first.

“The Berserker,” Wind piped in next, gesturing to an armory they passed. The weapons on display glinted in the moonlight, drawing everyone’s attention for a brief moment.

“Clever,” Warrior deadpanned, though he made note of its location.

“Daffy’s Wud?” Hyrule’s brow creased at the strange name. The place itself was tall and lean, as if someone had taken the building and crammed it between two others. It was a pale purple with fluorescent pink and blotches of orange, green, and yellow mingled in.

All and all, a discomfiting sight to see. Legend couldn’t help but release a short bark of laughter.

Sky looked around with a pained and disturbed expression. This place was far too happy-go-lucky for his tastes. He preferred the wilderness over this!

“This whole place is mad!” The words slipped from him before Sky could stop himself and the Links turned to him in surprise. Sky’s cheeks burned a brilliant shade of red and he hid his face behind his hands, “Sorry, sorry, it just came out!” He apologized, flustered and mortified.

Four chuckled with a shake of his head, patting Sky’s back sympathetically. The older teen peeked down at him between fingers.

“We were all thinking it anyway, Sky,” He assured the kindhearted Hero, “No need to be embarrassed for stating the truth.”

Hyrule shuddered, loosely hugging himself.

“Well, I don’t like it,” He admitted in a soft whisper, “It weirds me out.”

“It weirds us all out,” Warrior muttered, lips curling back in disgust when he saw another intricately designed and flamboyant painting hanging in a display window, “Hylia’s sake...I never imagined such a place even existed.”

“These bright, flashy, colors make my eyes hurt,” Wind complained, rubbing at his aching eyes.

“Oh, good!” Wild breathed a sigh of relief, “I’m not the only one!” Although it was night, Wild still found himself squinting against the onslaught of flashy, neon, colors. The moonlight reflecting off the bright colors and sparkling stalls did nothing but blind them.

Did they have to use glow-in-the-dark paint? Not to mention the optical illusions were a little over the top and giving him a pounding headache.

“Can you imagine how it must look when its sunny?” Hyrule questioned, wincing at the thought.

Legend’s face screwed up,

“You’re going to make me sick.”

“I already am…”

“Yeah, you definitely aren’t looking too good there, Sky,” Warrior gently gripped Sky’s arm when the teen started turning green, “Let’s hurry on up to that inn there.”

“We’re staying there?” Legend didn’t possibly think this night could get any worse.

Time turned to the incredulous Hero with a raised eyebrow, “Do you have any better ideas?”

Wind timidly raised a hand, “We camp in the woods?”

None could deny the hopefulness in his tone. It was preferable. None of the Links would object, all more than willing to choose the cold, ominous, woods over this...fascinating place.

Four flicked his wrist, pointing to Wind and helpfully supplied, “It’s free of charge.”

“Even Warrior has better taste than this,” Legend declared with certainty. Said offended Knight snapped his head in Legend’s direction, indignantly crying,

“Hey!”

Time rolled his good eye, the corner of his lips twitching upwards minutely. Already, he could sense the coming storm,

“What?” Legend bent his arms at the elbow, palms up, “You have to admit, the scarf-”

“Oh, and a skirt’s so much better than my scarf?” Warrior snarked back, “At least it covers up more than yours does.” He tugged at his scarf meaningfully.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Four turned to disguise his mirth as a cough. His shoulders shook as he vainly attempted to recompose himself. Hyrule laughed to himself, Wild snickered, and Wind tried his hardest not to giggle.

“Boys,” Time warned, but the laughter in his voice ruined the effect. Truly, never a dull moment. Not one day passed them by without some sort of entertainment. “Lower your voices,” At the least.

Legend obeyed the leader, lowering his voice threateningly,

“I will kill you, Warrior,” He promised, eyes glinting sharply.

Warrior smirked, nonchalantly tossing an arm over Legend’s shoulder, “Sure you will.” Legend bared his teeth, fists clenched, “You’d better sleep with one eye open tonight, Pretty Boy,”

Time shook his head in fond exasperation, mentally noting not to assign the two Heroes to the same room. He paused before the door to the inn, extending a hand to rest it atop the illustrious handle. He turned to fix the Heroes with a stern, pointed, look before carefully pushing the door open.

The Links could only hope the inside was better looking than the outside...

The tallest of the group had barely taken a step when a shrill screech squealed from above. Time’s head snapped up and his vision went black as a weight slammed atop his head and water soaked him to the bone.

Behind him, he heard Sky yelp followed by a thump.

Wolfie was immediately on guard, crouching low to the ground with a fearsome snarl that ricocheted through the air, enveloping the entirety of the room.

Warrior’s hand instinctively snatched his sword, slipping it halfway out of its sheath ready to jump to Time’s protection. His fierce and focused expression slowly faded, morphing into one of pure bafflement as he and the others took the time to process what exactly had taken place.

Time stood in the middle of the doorway, a metal bucket covering his head, and fingers loosely curled round the handle. Water saturated his hair, dripping from the ends and onto the wooden planks below. Rivulets raced through the patterns of his golden armor, creating a multitude of puddles on the floor.

Legend blinked owlishly.

He slowly raised a finger,

“Did you- did we…” He shook his head, “Did we just get pranked?”

Time serenely shut his good eye, expelling a steady breath before reaching up to lift the bucket off his head. He looked to find a string attached to it and at the end of it, a rubber cucco with bulging eyes and a gaping yellow beak.

He tugged it off with an unappreciative frown. His good eye slid down to where Wolfie was still baring his teeth and rumbling deep in his chest. He tossed the rubber cucco, letting it bounce off Wolfie’s snout then onto the floor. Wolfie’s snarl shuddered and broke off in surprise and he raised cobalt blues swimming with betrayal up to meet Time’s faintly amused one.

With a disgruntled rumble, Wolfie lifted a paw and rubbed at his snout indignantly.

“Ooooh hoo hoo!” A sudden burst of overly amused, entirely-too-enthusiastic laughter exploded somewhere ahead of them and the Heroes jumped slightly at the unexpected sound. A short, stocky, man dressed in the most bizarre outfit possible stepped into the lamplight, clapping his hands loudly together. His green eyes were wide, brimming with unshed tears, and his face lit up with delight, “I have been waiting for this moment! I had that set up since evening!”

Time leveled the obnoxiously red-haired man with a cool stare- one Warrior, Legend, and Wild recognized and still shirked from. For once, however, it wasn’t directed towards them.

The man was hardly affected, “You must admit-” He swiped at a tear, beaming brilliantly, “That was plenty good!” “Indeed,” A tight-lipped smile curved Time’s lips and his single eye became a pool of promises for retribution he would be unable to attain. The Older Hero was only becoming increasingly unsettled the longer they lingered in this abominable place.

The man slapped his knee, still guffawing at Time’s misfortune, and Wolfie growled in warning. This caused the innkeeper to pause, appraise the proud, displeased, beast and frown.

“Ah, I must apologize,” He jovially began with an air of faux-politeness, gesturing to Wolfie airily, he said, “Dogs are not allowed in the inn.”

DOG?!

A scandalized yip escaped Wolfie and Sky lunged when the wolf made to show the innkeeper exactly what this ‘dog’ was capable of. “Hey there, now, Wolfie,” Sky strained, arms wrapped around Wolfie’s strong neck and anchoring him into place. Time merely watched the scene unfold, heaving a tired sigh. It had most certainly been a long week. Not the longest, but a long one for certain.

Everyone was at their wit’s end and exhausted.

“That dog is a wolf, good sir,” Warrior calmly but firmly inserted, stepping up to Time’s side. The innkeeper looked to him and Warrior fought to steel himself from cringing. The man’s outfit was utterly outrageous. His incredibly yellow pants ballooned near the ankles and his sleeves billowed atrociously around the wrists. There were colorful polka dots littering his...suit? Warrior was unsure whether or not this peculiar outfit had a name. The buttons on the shirt were much too large and oddly shaped to be normal. And the high collar?

He’d thought Agitha and Ravio were eccentric, but this was by far the worst Warrior had ever seen.

“He is well-trained and my good friend’s loyal companion,” The Knight indicated to a strained Wild.

The innkeeper raised a bushy eyebrow at the grumbling canine still held by Sky. The wolf reluctantly settled back on his haunches, but he still looked ready to tear everything to pieces.

“Well-trained, hm?” There was a hint of a challenge in his tone. It was evident he didn’t believe them.

Wild nodded vigorously from where he stood beside Warrior,

“He is! Watch-” To which the mischievous Hero spun on his heel and proceeded to order, “Down boy!”

If looks could kill, the one Wolfie seared Wild with would most definitely have incinerated him on the spot.

Twilight would make him pay for it later, but Wild figured it would be worth it.

With much grousing and griping, Wolfie made a show of reluctantly lowering himself onto the ground. He shifted until he was comfortable then cracked an eye open to pierce Wild unhappily,

“Roll over!”

Wolfie’s eye grew wide and he barked sharply in refusal.

Wild sternly placed his hands on his hips and tapped his foot once, “Roll over, Wolfie.”

Wolfie did.

“Yay, Wolfie!” Wind lunged and tackled the great beast with a hug, “You’re amazing!” Peals of pure, jubilant, laughter filled the air as Wind turned sparkling eyes at the innkeeper, “Isn’t he?”

The tone the youthful boy used was carefully constructed, almost daring the innkeeper to say otherwise. All in all, rather frightening to hear. Legend was, to say the least, impressed.

Wolfie’s previously irate demeanor deflated almost instantaneously at the Sailor’s bubbly self and he nudged Wind’s cheek with his nose.

Children would always be his weakness, he supposed.

The flamboyant innkeeper only shrugged, voice chipper and gratingly cheerful, “So long as he doesn’t cause any trouble, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to allow him to accompany you.”

“We thank you for your trouble,” Warrior graciously intervened before anyone else could, “After all, it is the least you could do to compensate for the stunt you previously pulled.”

The short man floundered for a second, waving his hands wildly in the air that it blatantly reminded Warrior and Legend of Ravio,

“Stunt?! That, my boy, was a masterpiece! An ingenious idea executed by yours truly! A brilliant mastermind!”

Wild eyed the deranged man uneasily. While accustomed to meeting outlandish, whimsical, and freakish people, the Hero was not at all fond of the village or the innkeeper. If everyone in the village were this...quirky, he wasn’t sure how he would survive.

He turned, not wanting to risk staying and discovering just how odd this village and its villagers could be, and made for the door. “I’m leaving. There are plenty of good trees outside to choose from-” But he didn’t get far when Warrior grasped the collar of his tunic and tugged him back,

“If we have to suffer, then you have to suffer,” The Knight groused goodnaturedly. Wild shot him a disturbed look, “You’re going to make us stay here?” He whispered, almost pleading with Warrior to say no.

In the background, Hyrule was bartering with the innkeeper, slowly but surely lowering the equally preposterous prices for their rooms.

“There’s a storm coming,” Warrior returned, lowering his voice in the same manner as Wild, “And from what you observed earlier, it’s going to be a bad one, so yes,” He nodded solemnly and with a slight grimace, “We’re stuck here for the night.”

Wild could only sigh and stare longingly at the door splattered with paint and other haphazard decorations.

~~~~

“A dog,” Twilight growled under his breath as he followed Time to their rooms, “Of all things, a dog?”

Time smothered a smile. Truly, nothing dug under Twilight’s skin more than being mistaken for a dog.

“Come now, Twi,” Wild interjected, lips twitching and laughter lacing his word, “It could be worse-” He attempted to appease the older teen when Twilight rounded on him with an intense stare that promised recompense, “And you-” Wild chuckled, a full-blown smile still visible for all to see.

“Before you say anything, I was saving your hide!”

“Down boy?”

Wild could only shrug, a hand cupping the back of his neck.

“Roll over?!”

“I had to play it off!” Wild defended himself with a laugh that would melt anyone’s heart.

“And you did so wonderfully,” Time assured him, much to Twilight’s dismay. His descendant’s jaw dropped before he collected himself with a stubborn shake,

“What? Old Man-”

Time planted a hand on Twilight’s head, disheveling his hair teasingly, “The innkeeper allowed you in, didn’t he?”

“Even if he hadn’t, I would have found a way in,” Twilight muttered unhappily, glowering at the far end of the hallway. The rest of the Heroes ambled after them, a safe distance away so neither of them would uncover the truth of Wolfie, “If there is one thing we Links are known for, it’s for entering without invitation.”

“Then people should lock their doors,” Wild suggested without an ounce of remorse. The amount of times he’d simply walked into people’s homes was innumerable.

“Perhaps,” Time murmured, shutting his eye against the atrocity of the paintings and decor of the corridor and listening to the whispering of Warrior, Legend, and Sky.

The draperies were a variety of blinding colors- some Time wondered how they succeeded in making.

“My headache is getting worse from this ghastly place,” Legend groaned, cradling his aching head. Sky was rubbing at his eyes, opening them into slits. He couldn’t physically bring himself to open them any wider.

“Stupid storm,” Wind grumped, crossing his arms with a pout, “Why did it have to come now?”

“With any luck, it’ll breeze right on by within a couple of hours,” Warrior hummed, glancing out the nearest window. Already, lightning was webbing across the dark expanse of the sky, illuminating the village below.

Wind perked up, “Does that mean we can leave afterwards?”

“Unfortunately, no,”

“Aw...”

“Don’t worry, bud, it’ll be morning before we know it,” Warrior said reassuringly, and Time could not deny the hopefulness in his tone.

“I hope so,” Came Hyrule’s quiet voice. Their group slowed when the three Heroes ahead of them came to a stop.

“Here we are,” Time announced, stopping in front of their given rooms, “We booked three for the night. Split accordingly.”

The Links did as they were told almost instinctively. Time, Twi, and Wild were in one, with Warrior, Sky, and Legend in another, then Hyrule, Four, and Wind.

Time nodded approvingly, tossing a set of keys to Warrior and Hyrule. Warrior caught it with ease, but unfortunately for Hyrule, they sprung off his hands and began their descent to the ground. He scrambled frantically to keep them from clattering on the wood, fearing he’d disturb any sleeping guests and snatched at air in a desperate attempt to catch them.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the key ring miraculously slipped onto his finger, sweat beading his forehead. Immediately afterwards, Hyrule shoved them into Four’s hand, unwilling to keep the keys longer than necessary.

Time sent him an apologetic look, to which Hyrule responded with a timid smile and wave of his hand. His poor face burned, red dusting his cheeks from the embarrassing display.

“We leave at seven and no later,” The leader informed the group. He received varying affirmative responses before they broke apart and disappeared into their selected rooms.

Wild’s eyes immediately lit up once his gaze landed on the most welcome sight in the entirety of the world- a bed.

Ugly comforter and equally hideous pillowcases aside, it was the greatest gift Wild could ask for.

Behind him, Twilight made a noise of frustration.

“Polka dots...Can’t escape them,”

Time snorted softly.

“I’m afraid not.”

Of the three beds, the only agreeable one was the green in the center. It was a deep, earthy, tone with dark blue polka dots and white sheets. Not too horrible. Time and Wild silently elected to give Twilight that bed.

The first was an extraordinarily faded red- bordering on pink- with bright orange polka dots and the third was a sunny yellow with orange, red, green, blue, and purple polka dots littered about the fluffy comforter.

What was with this place?

“I’ll take the one of the far end,” Wild piped up, breaking the contemplative silence that had fallen o’er their Leader as he attempted to choose between the lesser of two evils.

Time turned to fix Wild with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

Wild nodded with a small grin, “I’ve seen worse than an ugly, yellow, polka-dotted bed, Time. This will be nothing compared to what I’ve faced.” This earned him an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

“Then that leaves me with the first,”

Twilight looked between them, “Leaves you with..? I haven’t chosen..?”

Time walked past the confused Ordonian, knocking him lightly on the head with his fist,

“We chose for you, Pup,” He said by way of explaining. Well, Twilight wouldn’t complain. He wandered to his bed, reaching down to grasp the edge of the comforter tucked underneath the overstuffed pillow. He tugged, but the comforter refused to budge.

Twilight heaved a silent sigh of exasperation and annoyance.

“I hate this place...” He muttered darkly, yanking with all his might and ripping the comforter free. Time and Wild had already rid themselves of their weapons and packs, setting them aside with care. Twilight threw his own pack on the ground without a thought but couldn’t bring himself to change out of his tunic. He could care less if he slept in it.

He was about to crawl in and curl up when a muffled, startled shout filtered through the thick walls followed by a painful thump!

Time, Wild, and Twilight leaped to their feet, instinctively reaching for their weapons when an aggravated and alarmed voice hollered, “Why is there a CUCCO in my bed?!”

A short, huff of laughter escaped Wild before the teen attempted to stifle it.

“Where did it even come from?! Warrior, get rid of it!”

There was an indignant squawk that followed Legend’s exclamation.

“I am not going anywhere NEAR that thing, Legend! You’re on your own with this one!”

Time lifted a hand to his mouth to smother his laughter. Warrior’s voice had come from farther away, telling them the Captain had scrambled a safe distance away from their unwelcome guest.

“Sky!” Two identical calls were issued soon afterwards, “You love these things! Why don’t you get it?”

There was a softer, drowsier sound the Heroes knew to be Sky calmly talking to the paranoid Heroes rooming with him. Time imagined him gently coaxing the Cucco from Legend’s bed and offering his own.

After a few moments had passed, the excitement died down and Time figured it was safe to try and get some sleep before they left in a few hours. Thankfully, they didn’t have a surprise Cucco in their room...

At least, Time thought as he settled into his bed and drew the covers past his shoulders, he hoped there wasn’t.

~~~~

Hyrule expelled a forlorn sigh from where he sat against the headboard of his bed, knees drawn to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs, dark eyes flitting from a slumbering Wind to a sleeping Four.

He could tell from their constant shifting and moving that neither of his companions were resting well.

It was impossible to in this awful place.

Hyrule himself couldn’t bring himself to try and sleep. The reason? Because of the huge, wide-open, eye painted on the ceiling that looked capable of peering through one’s very soul and ensnaring it.

Just thinking about it made him shudder.

He tried his hardest not to look at it, but it was difficult not to! His eyes would instinctively snap up to peek at it then flit away. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the eye was looking right at him.

Not to mention that he needed to use the restroom badly. He jostled his foot, the mattress vibrating from the motion. Was it worth the risk of leaving the safety of this room to endure the ghastly and horrific sight he knew lingered in the hallways?

He sighed again, raking a hand through his hair and frowned. He might as well. He really did have to go.

Without giving himself a chance for second thoughts, Hyrule swiftly slipped from his bed and crossed the room to the door in record time. He turned the knob as silently as he could, cracking the door open slowly to ensure it didn’t creak and the wood didn’t croak beneath his feet.

He shut it behind him and turned to head down the corridor to where he knew the bathroom for this floor was located. He refrained from looking anywhere but the planks in front of him, counting his steps out of sheer boredom and a feeble attempt to distract himself from the atrocities surrounding him.

Before he knew it, he was standing before the bathroom door that had the largest possible handle he’d ever seen.

This was sure to become one of the most memorable time of his life- and not for any good or sentimental reasons.

The handle, Hyrule unnervingly found, resembled a tormented face with features contorted in pain, the handle for the nose, and mouth gaping open in a silent scream.

Not at all ominous...

Hyrule shut his eyes against it and extended a hand blindly to grasp at the knob and turn it. He heard an eerie groan as he pushed against the wood and slipped inside.

Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Hyrule tiredly clicked the door shut and dragged a sleeve across his forehead.

He wished they could leave this dreaded place. How anyone could sleep here was beyond him!

He supposed it could be worse and made to turn around when he heard the sound of nails clawing against wood, racing upwards and when he turned, heart leaping into his throat, he watched with disbelieving eyes as a ghostly white apparition came shooting out from the toilet.

“Paaaaaaaaper....paaaaaapeeeerrrr....”

Hyrule had never shrieked so shrilly in his entire life.

~~~~

A rumbling boom reverberated throughout the inn.

“Hyrule!”

The Heroes burst from their assigned rooms and into the hallway, weapons drawn and expressions fierce. They were ready to storm to Hyrule’s aid, worry clawing its way to their hearts and sudden protectiveness taking root.

Whoever had threatened or frightened Hyrule would pay severely for their heinous crime.

An earthy green and brown blur dashed past Warrior and at Time, slamming into the leader and revealing itself to be a breathless and traumatized Hyrule.

Time instinctively caught him, demanding at once,

“What is it, Hyrule?”

Hyrule never once loosened his grip on Time, turning slightly to point down the corridor to say,

“Hand!” He breathlessly managed, all too relieved to be with his companions, “Ghost hand in the toilet!”

Sky perked up curiously, “Peoni?”

At the same time, Legend and Time also uttered names the Heroes didn’t recognize,

“Hand?”

“???”

“Ghost hand?” Warrior quirked an eyebrow, turning to peer down towards the bathroom. He blinked and whistled lowly, “What’s with the smoke?”

The area the bathroom was in was in shambles. Splintered wood, scorched planks, and ruptured flooring covered with water told Warrior the restroom was no longer usable.

Hyrule chuckled a bit nervously, standing behind Time and peeking around him, “It popped out from the toilet and scared me so badly I might’ve...instinctively lashed out with a magic attack?”

“Was that what the explosion was?” Wind piped up from beside Warrior, resting on his sword and relaxing since he knew there was no imminent danger.

“Magic attack?” Four curiously repeated.

Hyrule didn’t hear their questions and instead looked up at Time timidly, “Can we please leave this awful place, Time?”

He’d had enough. Monsters he could do. Mobs of them? No problem. Ghosts- especially a ghost hand that apparently lives in a toilet? That was pushing it.

Time glanced down at him. Unable to withstand the pitiful look the younger Hero was pulling, Time sighed and ruffled his hair.

“We might as well, or we’ll end up paying for repairs.”

The others cheered.

“Oh thank goodness!” Legend breathed a sigh of relief, immediately disappearing into his room and tossing out his, Warrior, and Sky’s belongings, “Let’s hurry up and go then!”

Wind and Wild dashed into their own to do the same, shoving packs into Twilight, Time, and Four’s hands.

“We’ve got everything!” Wild cheerfully declared, tossing his bag over his shoulder, “Let’s get outta here!”

“What in tarnation..!” A voice cried out from behind them.

Time’s eye marginally widened as the Heroes started and whipped their heads ‘round to find a shocked and fuming innkeeper standing behind them.

Warrior was the first to recover, barking out an order the Links didn’t hesitate to execute,

“Run!”

#Linked Universe #linkeduniverse #Legend of Zelda #din writes #Literally has no point #randomfic

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linerwriter · 5 years

Text

A Distraction

So, uh, I didn’t really plan to make this. It’s more of a vent fic, to be honest.

Fun fact: I have anxiety! And it’s focused mainly on social stuff and the things discussed in this fic! I had an episode yesterday and this kinda came out of it, so I decided to post it because (a) it’s a good fic and (b) I want to raise some kind of awareness for this type of anxiety (where it’s centered more on thoughts produced by the person as opposed to situations).

Warning: if you are not comfortable with the things discussed in this (death, what happens after death, etc.), please don’t read!!! I know my triggers, and if I wasn’t the author of this, I would not read it cause I would not feel comfortable! Please be cautious!

Word count: 1485. For the @linkeduniverse AU.

“I grew up with just my grandma!”

“Oh, really? How’d that go?”

Up ahead of where Wild was walking, his two companions, Wind and Hyrule, were chatting amicably about their families. The three of them had been selected to gather food for dinner, and the hunt had taken them somewhat deep into the woods. Eventually, after Wild had been silent for too long, content to listen to the trees, the others started to entertain themselves.

“It was sad at first,” Wind confessed, “Everyone was kinda just like ‘you’ll get to see them again!’ But they never really thought about how I felt? I mean, sure, I was a little kid, but I still had feelings, ya know?”

Hyrule nodded his head, “I get what you mean. I had a cat when I was really young, and when it died, they all were telling me about how happy he was, and how I’d get to see him again. That stuff was really hurtful!”

Wind suddenly threw his arms up, “It’s like they don’t even care about the remaining family! Like, yeah, I get that they’re gonna go to heaven or whatever, be accepted by the Goddess and all that jazz, but what about the people left behind?”

“Exactly!”

At some point during their conversation, Wild had started to pay attention. His brows furrowed as he thought about his friend’s topic, Accepted by the Goddess, huh? Wonder if that’ll ever happen to me…

He shook his head at the direction his thoughts were taking him, But what happens if it doesn’t? Will I just never wake up again? Slowly, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time crept up his body. Is it guaranteed that I’ll reach the Goddess?

He took in a sharp breath and banished the thoughts. “Guys,” his raised voice grabbed their attention, “I think we should stop soon. The sun’s going down.”

Wind grinned and started to run back to camp, “Hooray!”

As Hyrule took off after their youngest friend, Wild stared after them. An unreadable expression crossed his face until finally, he followed after them.

That experience, to Wild’s displeasure, stayed with him for many days. It often left him unable to sleep (not a surprise) and irritable (a surprise). He gradually became unfocused and spotty from his lack of sleep, but no matter what the others did to try to get him to speak, nothing worked.

Currently, Wild was attempting to make a nice lunch but was failing miserably. From where he was sitting, Twilight noticed how every few seconds, his friend would close his eyes and dip his head, then startle awake.

“What do you suppose is bothering him?” Time spoke up from where he was whittling something from wood. Twilight shrugged,

“Not sure. No clues besides what Wind and Hyrule told us about their walk a couple days back.”

Time sighed, “He needs to start sleeping again soon. We can’t afford to have one of us indisposed of.”

“I’ve been trying to get him to, but even my other form doesn’t help.” Twilight looked toward his ancestor, “I don’t suppose you know what to do?”

“Not even a speck of an idea.”

Twilight snorted, “Great, thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome, kid.”

“I take offense to that.”

“You should.”

Twilight turned all the way around, “And here I thought you were just a pleasant old man-”

A shriek interrupted the farmer, gone almost as fast as it was there. The two comrades quickly spun around, eyes looking around the clearing for danger. The truth, however, was much more puzzling.

Wild had, apparently, burned his arm on the cooking pot, which caused a lot of pain to spread before it healed. The odd part happened after. The young soldier had abruptly stood up and was staring at his arm in mild horror, his face a pale white. His chest rose up and down rapidly like he had run a marathon, and his hand started to shake slightly.

Twilight found his voice, “Wild? You okay, buddy?”

Wild slowly tore his eyes away from his limb toward Twilight, and then, without warning, he took off.

Wild didn’t know where he was running to, he just knew he needed to get away. His breath came out in his gasps, so unlike his regular air pattern. He faintly heard a few of the others chasing after him, but he neatly swerved and tumbled around trees and went deeper into the forest, successfully throwing them off him.

At some point, he stopped in front of a serene pond surrounded by flowers. He leaned over the water and hacked out the mucus in his throat. The entire time, thoughts of what could happen plagued his mind.

What if I never die?

What happens if I die?

What happens if I reach the Goddess, but the world ends? Will I still be with her?

What if I become a spirit?

What’s gonna happen?

A scream came out of his throat unwillingly as he scrambled away from the pond, trying to avoid the ideas coming from his mind. “Please, no, go away,” he pleaded into his hands, “Just leave me alone!”

“Woof!”

Wild spun around as Twilight bounded toward him. Unconsciously, he opened his arms to welcome the wolf into his arms, tears he didn’t even realize he was producing staining the mottled gray fur. Twilight nuzzled into Wild’s neck for comfort, but Wild stopped him.

“Twilight,” he panted out, “I don’t need comfort, I need a distraction.”

Without questioning, Twilight transformed back into his human self. “What do you need.”

“Just- talk.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time I embarrassed myself in front of the princess?” The whole time, Twilight had been clutching his friend into his chest. Wild slowly shook his head at the question, his eyes slipping closed to listen to Twilight’s heartbeat.

“Well, I would like it to be known that it was not my fault it occurred,” Twilight started, “It was a bright morning, and I had been at the palace to visit the princess. She doesn’t have many friends, you see, so I visit her every so often to chat. Anyway, as I was walking up to greet her, there was a bucket on the stairwell…”

Twilight continued to talk about everything and nothing for hours, drawing Wild out of the headspace he was in. Gradually, Wild took his face out of Twilight’s and laughed along at the stories Twilight him, about the time he accidentally smashed his town’s biggest pumpkin or when he first broke his arm.

Eventually, though, Twilight had to ask what had happened.

“When Wind, Hyrule and I were getting resources a few days back, they started to talk about their families,” Wild’s eyes dimmed, “And how, when a loved one died, everyone told them they’d see them again with the Goddess.” He took in a shuddering breath, “That got me thinking.”

“About what?” Twilight prompted softly.

“About what’s gonna happen when I die.” Wild sighed out, “These concepts, I thought I was gonna forget them, but they just kept on coming back. I tried so hard, but nothing worked.”

“And it all came to a head today,” Twilight guessed.

Wild nodded, his eyes squeezed shut, “It was terrifying, Twi,” he whispered, “It felt like I was trapped with nowhere to go, like these walls had surrounded me and refused to budge. Looking back on it, it seems surreal that it even happened, but it did.”

Twilight digested what his friend said, “Can you tell me any of the thoughts you had?”

“Stuff about what’s gonna happen, what if nothing does happen, if I die, will I be with the Goddess?” Wild babbled out, “I couldn’t control it. It would jump from one conclusion to the next with no pattern or evidence to back it up besides pure emotion. What’s even worse is the feeling of isolation that came from it.”

“How so?”

“I can’t go into everyone’s mind and see what they’re thinking. How do I know if they’re thinking the same thing as me? I felt like I was the only one aware of what’s gonna happen. Like, how is no one else concerned about it? Do they really have that much faith in the Goddess?” Wild shook his head, “There’s no proof to confirm what happens after death, besides the possibility to become a spirit, but that sounds pretty miserable. So, what will happen when I die? Will I just go, no conscious left? Will I be alone in the dark? I don’t want that to happen, Twilight.”

Twilight’s eyes softened in sympathy as he clutched his friend tightly, “I’ll make sure it won’t. I’ll make Midna pull you out if I have to, make you live with us. Okay?”

Faintly, Wild smiled and sunk into his ancestor’s hold, “Thanks, Twilight. I’ll be sure to hold you to it, if it’s possible.”

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #hero of the wild #hero of twilight #trigger warning #uncomfortable topics discussed #proceed with caution

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ashleyswrittenwords · 5 years

Text

The Homecoming Formal [ZeLink College AU]

Note: Hi hello it’s me, Ashley. I know this isn’t HTBAQ, but I’ve been drabbling on the side and I very much like this idea. Also there’s a hot fraternity president that I happen to know and anyway, thought it was topical. This is kind of mature rated? Kinda? If you don’t like reading about sexual mentions and stuff or if you’re uncomfy. This will be a couple chapters and then I’m retiring the idea lol. It’ll be cute, promise.

Summary: [Zelink College AU][Greek Life] Zelda had a one-night stand months ago and finally got over a big break up, but the shame of it happening weighs down on her. To make matters worse, her best friend keeps pushing her to go to formal with a fraternity boy. What happens when she meets their homecoming fraternity's president and her past mistake comes back to haunt her? Can I make this sound any more like a Wattpad book? Can this be anymore cliche? Yes, probably.

Warning: Mentions of the sex.

The Homecoming Formal

The bass seeped from the floor and through her wedges. She was completely off beat but she finally felt comfortable dancing. Dancing wasn't really the word for it, it was more or less being very low and bobbing with the music. There was lots of alcohol and none going on Zelda's tab. She was happy, shouting to the music that the club provided and danced with her girlfriends without a care in the world.

Maybe Midna was right and she should get out more.

It helped when she was paying the bill.

Men had come around every now and again, asking to dance with them and offering drinks. Midna was very staunch about the sudden arrival of testosterone and manhandled them away. Zelda had grinned wryly repeating how much she loved everyone. More jelly shots please.

Countdown and shots. It was a cycle.

How many did she have? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now. Zelda wanted to have fun.

She turned around and didn't see her friends. They were on the dance floor. She felt wobbly and a steady sense of vertigo washed in. Okay, the bar is nice now anyway. The bar stool was cozy and gave her relief to the balls of her feet. Someone brushed against her, slurring to the bartender. Zelda didn't recall what was said, but the nice drink lady was reluctant to give him more. Oh, it was a man. She had looked at him and he had looked at her.

Fun had found her.

Daren ΚΗΣ : Yo me and the boys are tailgating across the street from the stadium. You going to the game tmrw?

Zelda's eyes flicked up to her phone, which dinged, and pulled her from her glazed over stare. She sighed and stretched before grabbing the phone.

Me: Yea

A beat passed before the phone buzzed again.

Daren ΚΗΣ: Ahahah slideeee

She squinted at the phone screen and opted to stare off into the corner of the library. The calculus homework that glared at her from her computer screen seemed to hate her more than she hated it. A woman bounced through the door and immediately locked eyes with her. Her stare was piercing and Zelda felt like crawling under the table.

"Zelda Harkinian, what are you still doing here?" Midna said, accusatory.

"I…" Zelda paused, her brain not giving her a snarky reply, "I needed a couple more hours before the test." The woman picked up the cup of coffee that sat under Zelda's chin. It was still half full and hours old. The scent was comforting, at least.

"Cold coffee again?" The scary woman dumped it into a trashcan without another word, drawing attention from the people around them.

Zelda wined, mourning the lost cup, "Midna! You know that coffee here is expensive!"

"Only because you're too lazy to get off campus for a fix, besides you're addicted. Look at those eye bags! You know we have a social this weekend and you still insist on torturing your skin. What have I told you about at least using eye cream?" She went on, the blonde zoning out. She wondered how she would get out of this one. Midna was obsessed with socials. Especially this year, being that their homecoming fraternity was Kappa Eta, also known as Kappa Eta Sigma. It didn't make complete sense to Zelda, she wasn't the one for Greek drama, but if it made Midna happy she would be happy for her. In all honesty, a lot about being in a sorority confused her. It took a lot of pressure from her friends to rush with them two summers ago.

It was quite possibly the worst experience she'd ever faced. Standing outside sorority houses for fifteen minutes in the hottest days of summer weren't exactly what the movies depicted. The feeling of an hour's worth of makeup melting off her face made her shiver to this day. But to her friends it was something worth doing and Zelda couldn't complain. She met amazing people in her house and having Midna joining her made it even better.

"Anyway, tomorrow before the game we're going by their tailgate."

Zelda groaned, "Are you serious? Why? I'm trying to pull a disappearing act on one of their brothers."

"Because they're our homecoming frat and Paya said everyone has to stop by at least once if we're going to the game. And free drinks and free boys," Midna pulled her phone out, typing something in it was a grin. "Is it Daren again?"

"Yes," Zelda said breathlessly, shutting her laptop closed, "He's been either texting or snapchatting me everyday since the date party." She flung her backpack on and followed her tall friend out, looking around shortly for any of Daren's frat brothers. Believe it or not, fraternities were more invested in drama than any top-tier sorority. They always played that bad boy persona, but could never dish it. Of course, in Zelda's opinion. If anything, they were middle schoolers in snapbacks… just barely old enough to drink cheap liquor.

"Hey, I told you to get that other guy on their list. The blond one with the tan."

Zelda huffed, "I didn't know I was being catfished, Mid. Not my fault."

"Just, you know, make out with some other guy in front of him. He'll get the message."

"I'd rather die."

Midna looked up from her phone with another striking stare. How does she get her winged eyeliner so perfect everyday? "Don't give me that, Zel. You try pulling that perfect scholar attitude on me all the time, but I know you can get some if you really wanted to."

Zelda rolled her eyes, "I've no clue what you're on about."

"Really? After that last boy? When we went clubbing and you wore that skimpy black dress and we lost you. I thought you were kidnapped, but you just ran off with a boy."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Zelda felt heated, "It was one night and I regret it." And she did truthfully regret it. That night haunted her as much as it did thrill her. She couldn't remember his face or name but he sure was good at-

"OMG you're so thinking about it."

"No!" Zelda fumbled as they descended down the hill, almost tripping in front of a man on a longboard, "I'm not!"

"Oh, my Zelda. Growing up so fast! Having one-night stands with hot men! I'm so proud," Midna pretended to wipe a tear. Some random girls caught wind and looked at the duo in a strange manner.

The blonde girl fumed, crossing her arms and pulling her math notebook close. She thanked her stars for the leggings she decided to wear. The days were getting cooler, but she couldn't bear to turn to jeans just yet. The oversized shirt she wore displayed her universities name: North Hyrule University.

"When is your calc exam?"

Zelda looked at her phone, "At 2. So, I have a couple hours to kill."

Midna looked at her with that look that made Zelda worried.

"Midna what are you planning?"

Silence.

"Midna."

A smile was being wrestled with on her red lips.

"Oh, Hylia above help me."

The accused girl gasped dramatically, "My stars! Would you look at that! Kappa Eta has a tent put up just down the sidewalk. What a coincidence!" Zelda's eyes were immediately pulled towards a row of tents in the common area. Damn it, of course she would lead us here. It was still early in the semester so clubs and chapters were scouting for freshmen. There was an outlandish difference between sorority and fraternity recruiting, the latter going through recruitment events throughout the semester. Sorority rush however was a week filled with suffering. It wasn't fun for anyone involved.

"I really don't want to go," Zelda whined.

"You are," Midna looped her arm around Zelda's as a move to take her as captive. She was evil. "We should at least meet some before the social. Maybe we can get you a new formal buddy! Wouldn't that be peachy?"

"Oh, yes. I'm sure any man would want to see me in no makeup and hellish looking. Perhaps I should tell them that this horrible hair bun is Vogue," the blonde groveled, trailing behind Midna who looked positively radiant.

"That may work," Midna said absently, responding to a yell with her name. She had already put on that dazzling smile, while Zelda was trying to remember if she brushed her teeth that morning. Kappa Eta's tent was loud to sum it up. Loud and obnoxious. Several were talking to nervous freshmen and showing off their acts of good deeds. Or whatever frats boasted about. Midna was talking to Kafei, a man she loosely knew from a friend. He seemed nice enough, but Zelda ended up zoning out on the background. Why did frat boys tend to wear the same outfit 8-year-olds wear to their grandma's for Easter? The bright shorts were killing her. At least some of them took the decency of wearing long khakis and a normal tee shirt with their letters. That makes sense.

A hard nudge to the side sent Zelda into the real world again.

"-and Zelda here is our Academics Chairwoman, as you can see she's clearly been wrapped up in it. She's in Calculus 2, you know?"

"Are you finished with the dossier on me?" The accused woman glanced at who Midna was talking to. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." The man was looking at her odd and his expectant gaze caused her to stop thinking for a moment. His hair was longer than what she usually saw with typical frat boys, shaggy and blond. His eyes contrasted greatly to his skin. He was tan and she wondered if maybe he was on the football team. He seemed like he could be built for that; a linebacker? It occurred to her that this was the same guy that Midna had recommended before for the date party. Zelda mentally kicked herself for not taking more care of her appearance today.

"Link," he finished his weird stare and smiled. Almost hesitantly. It made her wonder if she looked worse than Midna described. Had she actually spared her feelings this time?

No, probably not.

He held out his hand and she took it, shocked for a moment by his delicate grasp. She thought he'd be more firm.

"Zelda, this is Link Forester. He's the president of Kappa Eta Sigma." Now it made sense why Midna sounded so professional. She was the Social Chairwoman after all. She had to be diplomatic in some way. A hot flush crept up Zelda's neck, "Oh, I'm sorry. I probably should have known that."

He kept hold on her hand and laughed, "It's fine. I don't expect people to know me. Why should I?"

"Isn't that Zelda?" A sly voice crept in and it took a lot for the named woman to not roll her eyes. Link dropped her hand as another man approached them. He was shorter by a fraction and everything she didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"Hi Daren," she said, trying not to sound lame.

"'Hi Daren'? That's all I get?" It sounded like he was talking to a child. He glanced at Link, "Excuse me, Mr. President. This is my date to formal."

"Formal buddy, but okay," Midna interjected. To be fair, there was a stark difference. Date suggested… other things. Buddy, of course, was a more amicable form of date and Zelda hoped perhaps her own would change before formal. Daren only gave Midna's comment a side glance. "Where's my hug, Zelda?" He was going in for it and Zelda raised her eyebrow in question. Was he really trying to hug her? She had met him a total of one time.

Link pulled him back by the collar and Daren stumbled back. "Yeah, no. We're not doing that here. I told you and the rest of the guys that it's a bad look on the chapter, but I'm honestly not too surprised that you forgot so quickly." Daren mumbled something but complied.

"I apologize, ladies," Link again was looking at us, softer than he was before with Daren. "It was good to see you again Midna," he said, nodding at her and then looked to me. The same smile from before was playing on his lips. "And it was wonderful to meet you, Zelda."

He turned away, said something else to Daren and went to help his brothers with recruitment. Midna was easy to turn Zelda and herself away and begin surveying the rest of the booths as they walked. Zelda hummed, "I do believe I should have followed your advice."

Her companion scoffed, "Please. I should have followed my own advice."

#let me know what u think #college au #loz #loz au #zelink #greek life au #zelda #link #ahhhhhh #fanfiction

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duckbeater · 4 years

Text

KNIGHTS TROPICANA

I finally edited this to my satisfaction. It’s another I shared with Peter, who needs to send me more drawings (only when he has drawn something to his satisfaction!). I would say this is a short story more than it’s an essay, which means I’ve fictionalized 12% of it and barely changed the names.

—

A LOT OF THE MEN IN MY LIFE were undergoing strife of one variety or another. Hardly any of it professional. Shawn wanted a job in New York to keep tabs on his boyfriend, Bryan, who lived in Manhattan. They had the usual arrangement with caveats: while apart, they should enjoy sex with whomever they pleased, so long as it was never penetrative. Shawn lived in Chicago (a few neighborhoods from me), so he really had no way of policing their policy, no way of knowing for certain who was letting whom put what where. The normal jealousies creeped up. “People get drunk and caught up in the moment” was his suspicion, which deepened and blossomed. He often texted “am I crazy” before settling into hours of emotional, retrospective analysis. I was putting my counseling hat on a lot for the boys, which is pretty rich, when you think about it. It was like flirting. I assumed the outcome would be the same if I were flirting (sex), but it was much more work (and the outcome ended up being endearment and confusion). I put Kahlúa in my morning coffee and sort of buckled in for the ride.

Is paranoid an emotion? I googled that. For Shawn’s part, he was never having sex with anyone else. For Bryan’s part, he was always having sex. He loved Shawn, and when they spent long weekends together was slavishly devoted to his boyfriend’s every exquisite need. They illustrated this by sending me numerous blowjob Snaps and some clinically erotic Instagram stories. (I’m not sure why they hopped apps.) I was a cut-rate participant/observer, sending weak congratulations on their every orgasm. Weak but “deeply felt,” as the critics say. If I wasn’t in a grocery store getting these images, or at dinner with friends, or at my desk on a Tuesday morning, I might reply back with something saucier by way of encouragement. Playing Switch, numb in Hyrule, vaguely aware of Link’s swimmer’s physique under his cute climbing gear—then a bzzz. And then—twenty or so minutes of elating distraction while a dominating Shawn glazed a whimpering Bryan in mucilaginous ropes of semen. The epilogue to these displays? An eye crimped shut with cum.

Exhibiting couples are always checking in with each other, with their audience, with themselves. “Do you like that?” begets “Do you want this?” begets “Do you need it?” (I really needed it.) Yet rather than heightening sensations, the teleplay of desire squanders them by mangling the ordinary human rhythms of love and sex. The wait on replies alone (as I texted back, as I replayed videos, as I waited for future queries and titillations), was enough to distend all attraction to a gray space of null waiting—the erotic equivalence of a DMV. This was not satisfaction deferred, like edging; this was the bureaucracy of our devices, mandating thrills on a piecemeal hold, to give us time to wipe the lube off our palms before holding our phones again. (My phone was disgusting. Assume all phones are disgusting.) For Shawn and Bryan’s sex shows (I don’t know what else to call them), I settled into a holding pattern, with the fly of my jeans undone, a quickened pulse, and eventually... a hand on the TV remote. (Look: This was during Peak TV. I could be immersed in their most intense, most intimate moments, and also catch up on The Good Place. Besides, I wasn’t sure who else was a part of these broadcasts, who else was among my competitors [could I also follow them on Instagram?], and “the sex wasn’t the main thing anyway.”)

The sex, apparently, wasn’t the main thing, anyway. They wanted to grow old together, explained Bryan. They wanted kids, they wanted property, they wanted grandchildren. As their schedules permitted, they connected on life-affirming business trips—to Atlanta, to Reno, to Austin—while accruing the kinds of expenses that signify serious investment and total commitment. They shared a sensibility (a brand alignment) that showed through even in their most coordinated and winsome posts: a bright “togetherness” captured by strangers competently photographing them in an iPhone X’s portrait mode. Big smiles over barbecue. Shirts off in front of a Route 66 sign. Sometimes the faked focal length is annoyingly apparent, but never for them. The depth of their strife was commensurate with the strength of their devotion. It was enviable, its earnestness. “I love making Shawn laugh—I love hearing his laugh,” confided Bryan, once, back when we still Facetimed. I felt same.

At drinks with Shawn one night, a similar desire arose in me, the desire to fill him with glee—to draw out his rich, low, wagging laugh, with his hand on my thigh. I realized I wanted to be radiant at the exact moment of realizing I was subsisting—had been subsisting for months—on radiance’s shadow. I didn’t want to be the faint part of the moon illuminated by Shawn and Bryan’s earthshine, I didn’t even want to be the stupid, pockmarked, rinky-dink moon. Fuck the earth. Fuck the moon. I wanted to be the sun. I wanted a magnetic field for miles. I wanted to be white-hot charming, and focused, like a laser beam. I wanted to pierce Shawn with longing, ravaging his soul with a kind of diamond-tip precision. It would be like firing a flare gun, igniting our fates. It would be like some other flame- or light-related simile. I didn't mind feeling out of control for once, lusting like a mad man, impervious to restraint or decorum or good sense. He had illustrated, over a year of very triple-X texts, that we had no respect for good sense, at all. And, at last, there were no screens between us. Here I was, commuting three hours every day (my strife was professional), watching other passions on screens for three more hours, wondering if I could just have a small taste of that, a whiff, and here was the object of that manifestation, that torment and temptation. He grazed my knee with his knee. He broke off a piece of grilled cheese sandwich and fed it to me. I casually declined a second feeding.

Who is Shawn? He is two heads taller, plays tennis, keeps a trim beard, has curly short hair and white (but not bleach-white) buckteeth. A copy-writer for a very prominent ad agency. Actually the thing I want to describe isn’t physical, it’s cultural: he reads very straight (gauche to say this), and flirting with him in public, in crowded bars, felt like the gauche victory of seducing a straight man. We want our prizes won fair. I wanted to win a grand prize. I’ve seduced maybe one straight man? God. It felt really, really grand.

Because Shawn does improv comedy, he actually read me jokes that night, pulling up one and then another from a folder in his phone. These were spec headlines he’d written for The Onion (where I know the head writer) and some Vimeo-hosted productions for his agency portfolio. None of them made me laugh but that did not make him stop, because I kept my face warm and alert, and because I was quick to ask questions, questions that intimated close scrutiny—and also because my face is handsome. (I don’t know the preconditions. My face, however, is handsome.) At least I didn’t have to critique this one. He was a gentleman. What helped was that I had consumed a double whiskey before he met me at the bar and had volunteered double shots shortly after his arrival, and then nursed a strong cocktail thereafter. He asked me how my playwriting was going and I was happy to report that I was no longer a playwright, not even a pretend playwright! I was just a normal communications lackey for an emergent fintech company, building PowerPoint presentations that lowered company morale.

Did we have intimacy? I felt near blackout by dinner’s end, but then, I often felt near blackout that season, gripping the present as though it were a cliff’s edge. (The surf below sounded exciting. I could drop down there.) Déjà vu permeated our exchange. Even the grilled cheesed feeding felt prêt-à-porter. Batting his hand away from the second morsel, I remember thinking, “Why does dating suck this much? Why does getting to know anyone feel so hellish?” I recalled that I knew, in fact, Shawn intimately: the crimped thick purple veins of his dick, striations below his ass cheeks, his preference for boxers over briefs; I knew that he liked to humiliate his lover, and often called Bryan, during their love-making, repellently misogynist names. We had the kind of internetty intimacy that checks a lot of porn search engine boxes. It was entirely performative and it was entirely contained within the hidden folder of photos in our phones. We got along swimmingly in part because the absolute worst of ourselves had already been revealed. He was a narcissist. I was an idiot. But all of this information existed on axes of desire—was warped by that desire—and so wasn’t very truthful. (Maybe, I mean, “accurate.”) He wanted a lover close-by. He wanted to live with Bryan, to live with his soulmate. He needed me to confirm that soulmates were real. I needed him to confirm that the entire concept of a “soulmate” was a byproduct of dental insurance, a strong core, the Hallmark Channel, inside jokes, whatever. Sitting next to him at the bar, pummeled near-silent by his stand-up routine, I thought about the difficulty of getting anyone to love us for who we are, let alone loving us for our very worst selves. Shawn was so often his very worst self. Soulmates, in that case, must be real. I marveled at this drunken conclusion before succumbing to intense, silent sadness.

Shawn walked me partway home before sweeping me up, away, above—into the kiss of a lifetime. I’ve described to friends that I felt, momentarily, as though he were licking my eyeballs, touching every part of me with his lips and his tongue. I scrubbed his hair with my hands: wiry tight curls, perfectly coiffed, fragrant with product and softened, I think, by sleep. He pressed a steady erection against my hip and held my hand to his boner, so I could feel the arrow-tip shape of his cock head. We breathed sourly against the other’s neck. He whispered in a hoarse drag into the conch of my ear, “What’s your friend’s email at The Onion?”

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inkingthewild · 7 years

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Forsaken Legacy Chapter 5: Link Punches A Fool

read this on ao3 or ff.net

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In Link’s opinion, his Trial hadn’t started off on the wrong foot. It was more like his Trial had started off on a foot twisted completely back to front; full of pain, agony and plain humiliation.

He grimaced upon remembering the embarrassment of yesterday morning. It seemed that letting go of Epona’s reins for even one second was a signal for her to lurch forward and gallop without warning, and he had been thrown headfirst into the massive fountain which stood proudly in Central Square. Ganon had defended him, sure, but that still didn’t muffle the pangs of shame Link felt whenever he heard the soldiers snickering at him from the shadows.

The leader of the Seventh Legion, Commander Reynard, was giving his initiation speech. Annoyingly, Link couldn’t see him very well over the giants that surrounded him; but he could make out a head covered by black hair, sporting a full beard, and bobbing up and down with every inspiring sentence. All his words were along the lines of ‘duty to Hyrule’ and ‘honour’ and ‘respect’, but Link found that his thoughts kept straying to his time in the fountain, and the cruel laughter of the people. He felt nothing but gloom.

“That’s probably the biggest frown I’ve ever seen on a guy,” an amused voice drawled from his right, startling Link out of his misery.

Without looking too suspicious, Link inched his head to the side to see who had spoken. The voice belonged to a grinning teenager, with a mop of sandy blonde hair even more unruly than his own; all tanned skin and bright brown eyes to match. It was with a twinge of disappointment that Link realised: this boy was another person who was taller than him.

"Mm hmm.” He didn’t feel like giving a proper response, so he returned his attention back onto the dais. Ordinarily he would have quipped back with a snarky response, but today he was overcome by a glumness that left him exhausted.

To his irritation, the boy seemed adamant in trying to get Link to talk with him - in the middle of their initiation ceremony. “Gee, you don’t have to look so sad already! We haven’t even started! I mean, this knight business can’t be that tough, you know…“

“Shh!” he whispered fiercely.

“Don’t worry, they can’t hear us,” the boy whispered back in a conspiratorial tone, completely overlooking Link’s attempts to get him to quieten. Link was starting to believe that he was as oblivious as a rock. “The soldiers are kinda deaf, especially through those stuffy helmets they’re wearing. But anyway, tell me. Why do you look like you’ve just made out with a Talus?”

“If I tell you, will you be quiet?” Link hissed, through gritted teeth.

The boy smiled even wider, if that was even possible. His triumphant grin already took up half of his face. “Depends,” he answered slyly, and Link repressed the urge to set fire to his toes. How difficult could one person get?

“Fine,” he bit out. “I lost control of my horse, tumbled into a massive fountain and embarrassed myself in front of the entire population of Castletown. Happy?”

To his dismay, the boy’s eyes widened with what seemed like… realisation. Oh no.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed loudly, punching the air before hastily bringing his hand down again and covering his mouth with a guilty look. “You’re Link, aren’t you? Ganon’s little brother?”

“…Yes,” Link sighed, giving up trying to repel this boy. Dejectedly, he wondered how far his mishap had really spread. “I guess you heard, too?”

“You bet I did! Riding into Castletown on horseback, all majestic and striking, falling into the fountain waters and then fighting off the castle guards with your bare hands? How cool is that?”

Link had to physically check that a fly hadn’t wandered into his mouth; he was sure that it had been hanging open during the boy’s excited recount. How exactly could one story get so corrupted when it passed around by word of mouth?

“Er,” he began awkwardly, “that’s not… that’s not exactly how it happened…”

“Nah, it’s good, you don’t have to get all humble on me,” the boy winked, “I know how you people are. But you’ve got to introduce me to your brother. I heard that he took down that guard with one move! Man, who does that?”

“Actually, I think it was-“

“Silence!” a soldier barked from behind the two, clanking his lance violently upon the ground. “The Commander is speaking!”

The boy rolled his eyes, before focusing his attention squarely on the Commander. “Funny how they suddenly become really good at hearing whenever I start a conversation,” he muttered at Link, who had to fight back a reluctant snicker of his own.

Later, when Commander Reynard had finished outlining their duties towards Hyrule and their pledge of allegiance towards the Royal Family, Link learned that they were due to embark on their first march as a new cohort - immediately. The prospect left him with fleeting panic, since he had never marched properly before, but he figured that it couldn’t be too difficult. It seemed as if all they had to do was walk in an orderly fashion, with some semblance of authority.

Famous last words, Link.

He lost count of the beats he missed, the number of times he raised his left arm instead of his right, and the hushed corrections the blonde boy nudged him with whenever he did something even slightly wrong. Marching definitely wasn’t simple, not at all, and he had been stupid when he had underestimated it. Link thought wryly that this what he got for waving things off until they became a very real and quite inescapable problem.

“Watch it!” a girl hissed when he unwittingly stepped on her heel, glowering at him when he apologised with stumbling words.

The sparring wasn’t any better. Link was overjoyed upon finding out that he wasn’t as awful at swordplay as he had been at marching, although his happiness was short lived. He wasn’t the worst with his sword, but he wasn’t the best either. The people he sparred with were either complete beginners or absolute professionals; there seemed to be no one in-between, so he was stuck by himself.

He was mortified when he was pinned down by someone half his size. Muttering a unenthusiastic ‘yield’, he wished he was shorter for the first time in his life, if only to reduce the embarrassment a little.

Above all, the constant jeers and raucous hollering of the rich, upper-class kids was enormously distracting. It was nothing like Myrrha, where the laughter was jolly and welcome, and he found that the incessant noise buzzed around his head even after he moved far away from the dim-witted crowds. He didn’t mind noise too much anymore, but this was noise amplified to a frustrating degree. If his ears could talk, they would probably be screaming at him to ride far, far away from the castle, his Trial be damned. Ruefully, Link wondered how Ganon was getting on.

Then, just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, an ominous shadow loomed over the ground where he sat. Throat dry, he looked up. It was a hulking brute of a teenager who had swaggered up to him, hooting cronies in tow, and looking altogether far too arrogant for his liking.

“Hey, kid,” he sneered, his voice immediately putting Link on edge. This guy was nearly as huge as Ganon and easily towered over him, although that was where the similarities ended. His face was twisted into an ugly snigger, and his lips jutted out like a squashed frog. Link mentally sent his apologies to the people related to him. “I heard that you and your brother took on a castle guard this morning. How about you try and take me on, huh? See if you’re good enough?”

“I’m all right, thanks,” Link answered shortly, tilting his head to stare him directly in the eyes.

“Aww, is the wittle boy scared?” the other mocked, as his cronies erupted into jeers around him. Link’s dislike for the moron soared to impossibly high levels. “Is it because he can’t fight without his big brother? How cute!”

Closing his eyes, Link fought to maintain his composure. This boy was really getting on his nerves. “I can fight perfectly fine,” he said icily, before turning on his heel and walking away. It took all of his willpower not to clobber the boy with his shield, but the more rational part of him urged him to avoid make a scene on his first day.

“Not that your brother was any good in the first place,” the boy continued from behind him, and Link stopped. His blood froze and raged in his ears, and he wasn’t aware of his fists clamping at his sides until the pressure of his nails digging into his palms became quite painful to bear.

“I’m sorry. What?” Link said quietly, his voice hoarse and dangerous. The world seemed to have muted, as if he was underwater, and all he could focus on was the utter bastard who had the audacity to insult his own brother-

“You heard me,” the boy goaded. “People say that he beat the guard in under a minute. Pfft! How stupid! He’s a Gerudo, and everyone knows that they’re just a bunch of uncivilised whores-“

The boy never finished his sentence. Link wasn’t aware of whirling around to face the boy, nor of drawing back one arm, but the next thing he knew his fist had sunk into pudgy flesh and blood had spattered on his knuckles-

“Link, stop! LINK!”

Someone was yelling as a pair of wiry arms wrapped around his middle, but he flailed and fought to escape his bonds. The other boy was snarling; it seemed that he had done something to his nose from the way he was hiding his face, but Link found that he didn’t care so much as he pried open the fingers that restricted him-

“What is the meaning of this?”

The blonde boy from earlier immediately released his grip from Link as Commander Reynard marched towards the three of them, his usual genial smile replaced by a severe frown. The entire training yard came to a halt as the cadets swerved around their partners, creating a clear path for the Commander, and all eyes swivelled in their direction. As Link’s rugged breathing steadied and his panting quietened, his mind gradually began to clear of the raging fog that had taken over his senses. It was with a sluggish understanding that he realised he had already been noticed by his superior, and not for praise.

“Well?” the Commander demanded, crossing his arms. “Do either one of you want to explain why you’re fighting like uncouth ruffians, even after I specifically ordered you not to draw blood?”

The other boy immediately grabbed his chance to complain. “He punched me!” he snarled, pointing an accusing finger at Link, gushes of blood spurting out of his nostrils.

“He insulted my family,” Link replied darkly.

“Sir, he broke my nose!”

“He-“

“Enough!” the Commander interrupted. “Both of you, in my office, now. You too,” he added sternly, gesturing at the blonde boy, who merely nodded, his typical grin having vanished.

“I haven’t seen such disgusting behaviour from the Seventh Legion in my entire life,” the Commander said coldly as he walked away, and with a plummeting feeling Link realised that his day had become much worse than he had first imagined.

The three of them ascended the castle stairs in silence. Only the brute shot dirty glances at Link, who couldn’t muster up enough energy to retaliate, anyway. Their climb was painstakingly endless, Link wearily trudging his feet along each stair, until finally they reached the heavy oaken door with the royal insignia painted proudly across its front. He hesitated, before settling a shaky hand on the doorknob.

“Let’s just get this over and done with,” the blonde boy whispered, patting Link’s back as (what he assumed was) an encouraging motion. Link was suddenly glad that he had a friendly face with him; and with renewed courage, he slowly pushed open the door.

The room was not at all what he expected. Instead of stone slabs and grim altars - or something akin to a torture chamber - the door opened to ivory walls and baby blue flowers flourishing atop the window sill. The tables were white, the chairs were white, even the crockery was white. Judging from the sharp intake of breath beside him, the blonde boy was also surprised, and he turned to see him staring around the room in unbridled awe.

Commander Reynard sat in the chair at the far end of the room, next to an arching window that Link presumed overlooked the training grounds. He turned to face them at the sound of their entrance, Link physically feeling his courage nosediving into the void, and gestured for them to come closer.

“Sit,” he ordered, and they took their chairs hurriedly, “and give your names.”

“My name is Link, sir,” he said nervously.

“Flynne, sir.” The blonde boy – or Flynne – also said.

The last boy waited, before muttering a sullen, “Hozai. Sir.”

“Link, Flynne, Hozai.” Reynard laced his fingers together, settling them on the table as he stared critically at the three of them. “Explain yourselves. Why was it that you were fighting so viciously?”

Hozai burst in before Link could get a word out. “It was him, sir,” he pointed, “he was the one who punched me! I didn’t even touch him!”

“That’s not true!” Link protested quickly. “He insulted my brother. I didn’t hit him for no reason!”

Reynard narrowed his eyes at Hozai, who Link was pleased to see had withered slightly under his gaze, before also looking disapprovingly at Link. “And this couldn’t be resolved with words? You are knights in training, and I expect you to settle any conflict in a mature manner; not by foolhardily resorting to your fists.”

“Sir, I didn’t even say anything about his brother.” Hozai scoffed, regaining his disdainful mask.

“That’s not true,” Link said, calmer this time. “You called the Gerudo ‘uncivilised’, and,” he paused, before continuing, “a 'bunch of whores’.”

“You have no proof,” Hozai sneered. “And that doesn’t mean I was talking about your brother.”

“You mentioned Ganon’s name, so you definitely were talking about him.”

"Well, you-”

Reynard held up a hand, halting their argument. “Cease. This petty argument is producing nothing. Hozai, the claims against you are disturbing, and if they are true, then you must be rightly disciplined. Link, you cannot escape punishment either; hitting a fellow solder with no good reason is prohibited, and rightly so, for it is a great disgrace. However,“ he paused, and Link’s heart sank, "I cannot pass judgement, because I wasn’t there at the time, and so I have no idea which - indeed, if any – of you are telling the truth…”

“Sir, he insulted my family,” Link pleaded. “I guess I should’ve walked away… faster, but I didn’t hit him to cause him pain-“– he couldn’t get disqualified from his Trial, no, no, no-

“He’s obviously fibbing, I didn’t say a thing about his brother-“

“Actually,” Flynne piped up, and Link felt like kissing him at that moment because Flynne was a godsend, “Hozai’s lying. Link tried to walk away, sir, even when his brother’s skill was undermined, but Hozai kept throwing taunts at his back. He only snapped when he called the Gerudo a race of harlots.”

Link knew that Flynne had exaggerated at the last part, but he didn’t care; the intervention had worked. There were now two claims against one, and Reynard had cleared his throat and shifted his piercing gaze from him onto Hozai. Hozai seemed to realise that he had lost, too, because his face twisted into an ugly snarl directed no-so-discreetly in Link’s direction.

“Is this true, Hozai?”

Hozai clenched his fists furiously and refused to speak, giving Reynard all the answer he needed.

“Hozai,” Reynard began in a grim voice. “You have, on your very first day, broken the Hyrulean Army’s Code of Conduct. You have freely insulted a fellow soldier and provoked him, even going as far as to racially abuse his own brother. Furthermore, instead of confessing and repenting, you went on to lie in an attempt to obscure your wrongdoings. We do not tolerate crimes of this sort, so for your mistakes, I am sentencing you to three months of shadow duty.

“You will rise at dawn, every day, and follow Commander Beatrix, completing every task she requires of you. Whenever you are not performing your duties, you will remain outside her chamber. In addition to this, I am excluding you from any recreational activities that the Seventh Legion partakes in for the next season.”

Hozai’s face twisted into an even uglier snarl, which Link didn’t think was possible from the amount it had contorted already.

“I hope you learn from your mistakes,” Reynard continued, “and that you do not repeat them again. You may leave, Hozai.”

Hozai got up, and saluted Reynard rather stiffly. Link swore he heard him utter sinister curses as he shut the door with more force that was needed on his way out.

“I hope you realise that you are both not getting out of this scot-free, either,” Reynard said gravely, once Hozai had left. “The latrines are in a desperate need of a thorough cleansing, and I’m thinking of sending you there.” He still regarded them sternly; however, there was a much warmer look in his eyes. If Link had to put a word to his expression, he would’ve called it fatherly.

“Yes,” they both chorused, giddy with relief.

“I will have to write to your parents too,” he added, throwing Link’s relief straight out of the window. Flynne had also frozen, with a mournful look that clearly screamed: I’m screwed.

“Sir,” Link started to say, hesitating, “is it possible that our parents be left out of this?”

“I’m afraid not, Link. All acts of physical violence are reported to the soldiers’ next of kin, whether you are the victim or the perpetrator. They have the right to know.”

Link sighed, finding no suitable counter. Reynard rummaged through his drawer, and Flynne used the distraction to mouth a silent “Help!” at Link with a face like a lost puppy. Despite their predicament, Link smiled. The punishment wasn’t too harsh by any means, but it was certainly lighter when he shared it with someone.

At last, Reynard reappeared from under the desk with a pair of glass-like marbles, which Link recognised immediately as Sheikah orbs. They were transparent, but emanated an eerie violet hue; translucent clouds filtering through its surface and partially obscuring the single eye covering its core. They were said to resemble crystal balls, but were inherently more useful and much more alluring.

“Put in your parents’ names and addresses. I’ll finish the actual message after I’ve sent you off.”

Link waited for the alphabet to appear, before inputting his mother’s name. His father was far less scary whenever he misbehaved, but he knew that his mother would find out eventually, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He figured he should face her wrath sooner than later; it was definitely not something to be trifled with, and coming clean was much safer than hiding. Hiding from his mother had never worked; not once in the thirteen years he had lived. He shuddered as he recalled the cooker incident, just as Flynne finished with his orb, and quickly rolled his own towards Reynard.

Reynard caught them both with a deft snatch and dropped them in a tall glass of neon blue liquid; Sheikah water, only to be used with Sheikah technology. The water kept the orbs fresh before they were used and sent to the recipient, although Link had no idea how they worked.

“Evynne?” the Commander questioned upon inspecting the characters, and Link nodded. “Your mother is called Evynne?”

“Yes, sir. My father is called Cadmus, and my mother Evynne. They’re both in Myrrha Village.”

To his astonishment, Reynard began to smile. “It’s quite fitting that Cadmus and Evynne’s son should perform his Trial of Arelyth at Hyrule Castle.”

“You knew my parents, sir?” Link asked curiously.

“Yes, very well. Your father and I served as knights together in the Second Legion, many years ago, and your mother worked as a healer in the Royal Infirmary. Although sometimes I still think that your mother should’ve been in the Legion herself,” he chuckled, and Link revelled in the gloriously fresh information he was unexpectedly acquiring.

“What were they like, here?” he asked eagerly.

“Your father was - dare I say it? - perpetually drowsy, and your mother had the fierceness of a Molduga, with kindness to rival our own Queen’s. But now is not the time to talk about your parents. The hour grows late, and both of you are expected in bed by eleven.” At Link’s disappointed look, he added, “There will be many opportunities for us to converse about them. My door is always open, but now both of you should be going back to your quarters. You may go.”

Link and Flynne rose from their seats, Link a little reluctantly, but ultimately relieved for the end of their interrogation. They hadn’t escaped unscathed, but nothing too terrible had happened. They were still in the Legion. His Trial hadn’t been put at risk.

“And please close the door softly! It is new, and I don’t want it broken.”

Link closed the door with little force as requested, and turned away from it smiling for the first time in the whole day.

“Aw, sweet! We got told off – and then let off – on our first day!” Flynne cheered as they exited the building.

“Sweet?” Link echoed incredulously. The Commander’s proper punishment had been relayed to them by a messenger, and his happiness had switched to indignance in an instant. “How is getting a month’s worth of toilet duty sweet? We just got scolded by our own commanding officer! And I thought you said your parents were going to slaughter you?”

“Eh, I’ll just avoid going home for a few days, that’s all. Anyway, it’s a good story for the ladies.” Flynne winked at Link, who rolled his eyes and sped up his pace.

“So, you’re one of those people, huh?” he commented. “I can’t say anything, though, because you did save me back there.” Link stopped, and offered his partner a grin. “Thanks, by the way. Who knows what would’ve happened if Commander Reynard didn’t believe me?”

“It’s no problem. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Flynne said cheerfully. “Besides, that guy’s a dickhead.”

His flippant use of the word nearly caused Link to trip over the stairs. “What?” Link spluttered.

Flynne grinned. “Well, he is!”

“Your mouth is filthy.” Link complained. “If someone heard you-“

“Don’t worry, I’m an expert in controlling my mouth.” Flynne waggled his eyebrows at Link in a ridiculously promiscuous manner, causing him to groan in despair.

“I’d say you were awful, actually,” he snorted, before playfully smacking Flynne’s shoulder with a broad grin.

"Widen your stance. Drop your left arm by five centimetres, and bend your knee by two. What are you doing? Never take your eyes off the target! Also, raise your right arm until its hovering by your ear; just like that!”

“I can’t remember all that in one go, Gan!” Link moaned, trying to adjust until he was meeting all of Ganon’s absurdly high requirements. The bow was impossibly uncomfortable in his hands, and his legs were aching like they had when Flynne had tried to bench-press him with a stick. (He had failed.)

“You’ll have to, if you want to get better at archery,” Ganon reminded. “Now, watch.”

He moved into a confident position in one fluid motion; lifting his bow and fixing his gaze squarely on the target. Effortlessly he pulled back the arrow, and checked his aim one final time before letting it fly. It whistled through the air, before neatly embedding itself in the miniscule yellow centre.

“See? Just like that. It’s not hard.”

“Easy for you to say.” Link grumbled. “Most of my arrows don’t even hit.”

“What, you thought I was born handling a bow like a cherub?” Ganon scoffed. “I practised, Link, A lot.”

“Well, I practise, too!” Link protested. “It just doesn’t seem to work for me. Maybe I’m not really cut out for this…”

It was a thought that had invaded his mind after days of failed practices, multiplying like a nasty tumour and knocking bricks at his self-esteem until he couldn’t bear looking at a bow anymore. It wasn’t the first time he had failed at something, but this time he had looked at his peers. No one was as awful as he was with a bow, and if he couldn’t even nock an arrow properly…

“Oh, cut the crap, already.” Ganon scoffed. “You’re more than good enough become a knight. Listen: you wouldn’t believe the amount of spineless cowards I come across on my patrols. The other day, a bunch of them encountered a Lizalfos terrorising these two travellers. Guess what they did?”

“They… ran off?” he guessed, despondent.

“Exactly.” Ganon rolled his eyes in disgust. “Link, you might be an idiot-“

“Hey!”

“-but you’re definitely not a coward.”

That was… surprisingly nice of him. “Thanks, Gan.” Link finally smiled. “I like to think that, too.”

“Stop being so self-deprecating, for Din’s sake. You’re honestly not even that bad. Look, try again. Practice makes… well, not perfect, but it makes you better, anyway. Go on, try another.”

Filled with renewed determination, Link rolled his shoulders and stuck another arrow onto the bowstring. The Seventh Legion was on their lunch break, and Link found that the archery corner was a lot less daunting when no one was around. He could do this. He would do this.

He lifted the bow, pulled back the arrow until the string was taut, and let it fly.

The arrow didn’t even graze. Link cursed under his breath.

“What was that?” Ganon asked sharply. “Did you just swear?”

“No!” Link promised hurriedly, although he was wearily grateful for the change in subject. Once again, he had failed. “Of course not. I would never.”

After the absolute battlefield that was his mother’s response to the Hozai Incident, he had tried diligently to keep his nose out of trouble. Of course, his mother had to send a private letter to Ganon, probably containing the usual waffle about how he had to look after Link and make sure he stayed on the path of justice and whatever else. Ganon, for his part, actually listened to her letters (which was weird in itself; Ganon didn’t listen to just anyone), and Link had found himself being watched over the past few days. He had been expecting it, honestly. Ganon was about as subtle as a Hinox in a dress.

“Hm.” Ganon didn’t say anything else, but continued to survey Link with a strange look. He made a mental note to control his tongue, and also to plug his ears with wax whenever Flynne started on one of his woeful monologues.

Before Ganon could question Link further, ringing resonated from the Clocktower. They looked up to an enormous, golden bell swaying side to side; long, loud peals reverberating throughout the air with every impact it made with its walls. Three chimes sounded, harmonious yet commanding, before their surroundings quietened again.

“Well, that’s me,” Ganon yawned, stowing his bow into the wooden chest. He ruffled Link’s hair, fluffing it up until it looked like an angry Cucco, before stretching his arms high above his head.”See you at dinner?”

“Yeah. Bye, Gan.”

“Keep practising!”

It was only after Ganon had left, did Link allow himself to sigh properly. Even Ganon’s raw encouragement wasn’t enough to improve Link’s archery, it seemed. Nothing was more discouraging than failure, and every shot he took ended in failure.

It was completely unfair. Link had taken great lengths to practise in secret, enlisting only Ganon’s help, hoping to land at least three consecutive hits, but nothing had worked. Flynne was brilliant with his bow, although he was careful not to swing it around too much in front of him. Link was grateful, but it only further added to his frustration; clearly, his terrible archery was so evident that others felt sorry for him. The Commander himself had offered him tutoring, but Link had politely turned him down; he desperately wanted to try and improve on his own, without anyone’s assistance. It was silly, and only his pride talking, but there was always that shame that nagged at him whenever he asked someone for help.

If things came to the absolute worst, he would request the Commander’s help, but for now he wanted to try and get something by himself, even if it would take years. However, his efforts just weren’t producing any results, and Link was close to throwing the damned weapon down and giving up.

It wasn’t fair. How was it that some people could master a new skill so quickly, whereas he couldn’t even control the art that his father had tried to teach him for years?

Link sighed, and decided to take a break. Maybe that would clear his head and he would land a hit with rested fingers– or maybe nothing would come after it, and he would be just as awful as before. He laid his bow on the ground and slowly lowered himself into a sitting position, before completely flopping onto his back, letting the cool grass tickle his skin. The clouds floated lazily across the sky, and he squinted when the sun’s rays fell across his face.

It really was a lovely day. Slowly he let his eyelids close, promising himself five minutes of rest before he would get up to train again. Or perhaps he could even take a nap; surely that would be even better, since he’d be well rested and alert…

WHOOSH.

Link shot up, shielding his eyes from the sudden glare of the sun and reaching blindly for his bow. He stumbled to his feet and brandished it in the direction of the sound; of course, his only weapon had to be his worst, but there was nothing he could do. He stilled completely, waiting for the source of the sound to appear while scanning his surroundings for any movement.

It was then that he noticed the target that he had been using, and he dropped the bow with a silent gasp.

Instead of only one arrow implanted in the middle, there were two; or rather, another one had split Ganon’s arrow through its shaft, and had claimed the victory of the target.

“I suppose that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Link whirled around, almost tripping over his feet, to face the person the voice belonged to. It was a girl; dressed in simple purple tunic and black slacks, with bright golden hair tumbling over her shoulders, framing skin the colour of cinnamon, and wearing a pleased grin. She hopped nimbly from the rock she was perched on, and strolled over to where Link was standing.

She examined her own shot. Link regarded her arrow with a twinge of jealousy, although his curiosity ultimately squashed its rival down.

“Who are you?” he asked bluntly.

“Oh… I’m just a guest. I’m staying at the castle for a little while,” she answered, but Link noticed that she did so with a sidelong glance. She picked up his bow, turning it over in her hands before offering it to him. “I noticed that you were having trouble with your archery.”

Did everyone in the entire castle know of his troubles? “…Yes,” he admitted ruefully. “I’m not exactly great.”

“Then, let me help!” the girl exclaimed, clapping her hands together with startling excitement. Link was taken aback at her sudden escalation in demeanour. Since when did people give up their time so freely just to help a boy struggling with his knightly duties? And a castle guest, at that?

“Um, are you sure you don’t have anything else to do?” Link began, slightly awkward. “I’ll be here until the seventh bell rings, so…” He trailed off when the girl pushed his own bow into his chest, knocking him backwards.

“Not at all,” she said cheerfully, and Link was starting to wonder how he was meeting so many strange people in just one season. “Besides,” her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as she glanced around at her surroundings, “I’m hiding from someone, and that someone happens to be a very talented seeker, but I know that she won’t be here for a long time yet. You could say that I’m practising concealing myself.”

“You seem very sure about that.” He pointed out.

She grinned. “Of course. She’ll look in the library first, then my bedr- the guest rooms, and then the archery yard in the West Wing. I don’t usually come here, so I doubt she’ll come here so soon.”

He was still wondering why she singled him out, of all people, but decided not to voice this out loud. “Who’s chasing you, anyway?” he asked instead.

“Never mind that,” she said vaguely, waving away Link’s question with one slender hand. "Let’s get to your training first. She’ll be here soon, and I do want to help you. You seemed quite downhearted just now. Archery isn’t so difficult, really; you just need to get the knack for it, and soon you’ll be flying arrows and hitting your target every time.”

Speak for yourself, Link thought sullenly, before sighing. “All right,” he acquiesced, stepping back and allowing her some space. “If you insist. It’s all yours.”

It didn’t come as a surprise to him that she was a dab hand at archery. He had guessed as much, after her previous arrow. The girl demonstrated a couple of shots, describing her motions to him as best as she could while he listened attentively, and in turn he mimicked her actions as best as he could. She was more graceful and lighter on her feet than Ganon had been, and Link found her movements far easier to follow – but he made a mental note never to tell Ganon that, not after he had so begrudgingly given up his free time to help him. Anyway, his spirits were lifting; the archery was somehow, incredibly, looking easier to tackle, rather than impossibly difficult as it had just been before.

After twenty minutes his fingers were burning and the pads of his skin had begun to blister, but he had clearly improved; one of his arrows even stuck! Granted, it only hit the outermost ring, but it had hit something, and that was more than he had ever hoped for after the dismal spiral of thoughts he had been trapped in. The girl smiled appreciatively at his efforts, and his mood had improved so much that he found himself smiling back.

"I knew you could do it!” she said encouragingly. “Your archery isn’t terrible by any means; I think that your technique is great, and you’ve clearly been taught well. May I see your bow for a few moments?”

He complied, handing her the bow and letting his fingers relax. She inspected it thoroughly, running her fingers over the smooth wood and plucking at the string, before handing it back to him with a firm nod.

“I thought as much. There’s nothing wrong with your technique; it’s just that your bow is too light for you. If you find yourself a heavier one, I’m sure that you’ll improve greatly in no time.”

“Really?” Link asked, dumbfounded. “Is that all it was? My bow wasn’t right?”

“Perhaps you’d do better with a bit more practise, too,” she laughed gently, “but try it. Change your bow and see if you think it’s easier.”

“It can’t hurt to give it a try,” Link agreed, “but where do you even get a new bow? I don’t think soldiers are allowed in the armoury unless they get special permission.”

“You mentioned that you have to leave by the seventh bell, right? I’m guessing that you’re in the Seventh Legion?“ Link nodded, and the girl continued. "I’m sure that Commander Reynard will allow you to obtain a new bow, if you ask him. Or,” she put a finger to her lips, pursing them and furrowing her brows, as if she was thinking hard, “I could just get you one!”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Link said hurriedly, “I can get one, no problem. You don’t have to go to so much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all! I’ve got access to the armoury, so I can get one for you much quicker than if you went to the Commander for approval. He’s quite a busy man.”

“Yes, I know- wait, you’ve got access to the armoury?”

“I’m a guest, remember? I’ve got some privileges.” she reminded him without hesitation. Link thought that only the most senior officers, the King and Queen had access to the armoury, but he decided to let it slide. It could very well be that the hospitality extended to the guests allowed them to tour the entire castle; he didn’t know much about liberties granted to the nobles. “Will you be here at this time next week?”

Link mentally evaluated his timetable, and was pleased when he remembered that lunch was at the same time every day. He nodded again.

“I’ll bring along something for you, then. The one I’ve got in mind is quite-“

“There you are!”

They both whipped around when a clear, assured voice rang through the yard. A tall woman, clothed in Sheikah garb, was striding swiftly towards them; an exasperated frown spreading across her face. She was lean, yet noticeably muscular; with stark white hair tightly braided down her back and a single teardrop painted delicately underneath her left eye. Numerous knives were strapped to her belt, and Link noticed with a jolt that she was directing her disapproving frowns at him.

“Uh-oh,” the girl whispered, looking at Link with a guilty glance. “There she is!”

The woman came to a stop, scrutinising every inch of him with narrowed eyes. Link wanted to squirm, but didn’t dare. He couldn’t fathom why she was so suspicious of him, or why she was eyeing him like dead meat, but he definitely knew that he was quaking in his boots.

“And who might you be?” she asked, with commanding authority.

Link cleared his throat, trying not to sound as intimidated as he really was. “I’m Link, ma’am, of the Seventh Legion.”

“Hm,” was her only response. She looked at him one final time, before turning to the girl, a hand settling calmly on her hip.

“…Well?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. There seemed to be a silent exchange of words between the two which Link didn’t understand; both of them blinked at different times and made small, weird hand gestures, none of which really made any sense.

Finally the girl yawned, and flapped one hand dismissively in the air. “It was only for a bit, Impa. I was about to return, anyway.”

“You impossible child,” Impa muttered, rubbing at her temples. “I turn my back for one moment, and I find that you’ve already run off. What in the heavens were you even doing?“

“I was helping my friend!” the girl protested indignantly. “I was showing him how to handle his bow properly.”

“She’s telling the truth, ma’am,” Link offered. “She really did help me with my archery. I’ve improved a lot.”

Impa sighed and glared at the girl. Link had to give it to her; that face was scarier than a Poe’s, but she didn’t back down at all.

“Hai yaelam fuh?”

Link jumped, and gaped at Impa, who hadn’t taken notice of his sudden confusion. It took one riddled minute for Link to try to process what she just said; because it definitely wasn’t in any language he had ever heard.

“Leh,” the girl answered, and really; this was getting crazy. “lmal 'akhbarhal.”

“Um,” he supplied unhelpfully, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand…”

“Don’t worry yourself,” Impa told him, before plucking the girl from the ground and hauling her over one shoulder in a single motion, as if she weighed a feather. “Now, come. We must continue where we left off, before you decided to try your hand at becoming a runagate.”

“Impa,” the girl whined, somehow crossing her arms across her kidnapper’s back, “do I have to?”

“Yes, you most certainly do.” Impa scolded, nodding curtly at Link before carrying the girl off towards the castle.

The last he saw of the girl was her lazy wave over Impa’s shoulder as they rounded the corner, and Link realised with a jolt that he didn’t even get her name.

Dear Mother, he began, dipping his quill into the deep black ink as Flynne snored loudly on the bunk above him.

How is everyone? I hope you’re all good. I’m having fun here, but the food isn’t as nice as home, and I miss it sometimes. I’m trying to make my own food and so far I think it’s going well - although Flynne (one of my friends) got sick after he ate my apple pie…He tried to play it off by pretending the pie was good, but that was before he started vomiting into the toilet. I still feel bad about that, especially because it was fine when I tried it… Maybe I followed your recipe wrong?

Training here isn’t that bad. I don’t see Ganon much, but I’ve made a couple of friends. Commander Reynard even said you knew him. He told me that Father was the laziest person in his entire cohort, and you used to shout at him for never waking up on time… Ganon didn’t stop laughing for ten whole minutes when I told him. His face went as red as a tomato!

My other friend also helped me with my archery, and I’ve improved! Not by much, but it’s something. I hope you’re proud of me. I’ll show you when I come home.

Everyone’s saying that the Princess is going to visit too, so I might not get time to write tomorrow; we all have to clean up the barracks. I’m kind of excited, since I’ve heard she’s nice, and apparently gives everyone chocolates. Maybe I heard wrong, though. Chocolate is really hard to make.

I’ll try and find some more Sheikah orbs, but if I don’t, I’ll keep sending letters. I think they’re in shortage, because not many soldiers use them. Actually, it’s probably just the higher-ups who do.

Anyway, it’s getting late, and I should to get to bed before one of the officers finds out I’m still awake. Next time, I promise I’ll do all the letter-writing in the morning.

I’ll write again soon.

Love,

Link

P.S. I told Ganon to eat his vegetables, like you said, but he snorted and threw them away. I tried, though. Honest.

Hai yaelam fuh? = Does he know?

Leh = No

lmal 'akhbarhal = I haven’t told him

#legend of zelda #legend of zelda fic #link #zelda #ganon #my fic #the stage is (nearly) set

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