#Minish usually tucks in their hat

[monstrous-fusion]

Sleepy cuddles

[bosmermage]

What An Honor, What An Injustice

Alt Prompt 13. Tragedy 

Fandom: Minish Cap  Characters: Link, Ezlo 

The fire he'd set up was warm, soft crackling harmonizing with the droning song of the cicadas. The summer was dwindling to a close, and the soft golden light of evening still bathed the little clearing he'd made, despite the late hour. He had Ezlo bunched up in his lap while he cooked, knees shielding his felted friend from the sparks drifting around playfully. It was almost as cozy as home.

But his arms hurt terribly, and his legs were even worse. He wasn't a slacker, he always loved playing knights with the other kids, and he worked hard too, helping in the forge and doing his chores and practising his swordsmanship. But the reality of so much travel was working it's way into his joints.

He'd had it drilled into his head in fact, by multiple people that it would be cold in the Temple of Droplets and that he'd need to bundle up as well. Spare mitts and scarves and wooly socks had been pressed into his hands and then into his pouches. He'd found it terribly patronizing at the time. He already knew better than to let himself get too cold. Although he had, up until this point, gone without a campfire. The summer air didn't cool enough to need it in the night and the food various people had treated him to had kept him over well enough. He was never so far from civilization that he'd even needed to heat up his leftovers. But he knew that with the journey ever looming he'd need the extra wood, and more importantly the practice cooking good hot food.

The clothes were sorted by the busy bodies in town. Fire at least was something he felt that should be easy for him, his chores at home always included lighting the forge in the morning, and raking down the fire in the evening. He knew how to be careful with fire, and how to keep the burn at the right temperature. Cooking on the other hand, not so much. But it couldn't be that hard. He'd watched Grandpa do it tons of times.

Holding the pan in his hands was different though. He knew what he had to do, and what order to do it in. Just like he was helping tend the hearth at home. But he just couldn't make his hand move.

“Link, you need to start cooking before the sun sets.” Ezlo was quieter than usual, but it was still just as harsh and the feeling of paralysis, and Ezlo's insistence made tears well up in his eyes. Link froze. It felt like his whole body locked up. He couldn't think straight, he shook his head silently at the old man hat because it was the only thing he could get himself to do.

“Link you need to eat something. You're still growing! You'll end up short as this forever if you don't eat your dinner.” Ezlo's volume grew back towards it's resting volume and Link couldn't help the pathetic whine that came out at it.

The tears he'd been holding back spilled over his cheeks and he dissolved into wracking sobs. Cold reality crashed into him all at once and the pan was discarded in favour of curling up closer and covering his head with his arms. He had no one left to ask for help. Normally, he could ask Grandpa to show him how to cook, and get to watch before he had to do it himself. And he had to put away his laundry after he cleaned it himself, and tuck himself into bed, and comb his own hair, and get up on his own and bandage the cut that he'd gotten from the octorok's stone. And he had to do it all over and over  again and again and again for as long as this stupid journey lasted. It was too much, he wanted to run away and cry into Grandpa's side until it didn't feel so big and scary but he couldn't, not with Zelda counting on him to free her from that spell. He had to be the one to do it, or no one else would.

He barely even noticed through his tears how Ezlo curled himself around his neck, blocking out the increasing nighttime chill. He did hold him back though. The minuscule weight was better than hugging his knees and he let himself cry until he couldn't anymore. The firelight and the sunlight were both dwindling by the time he finally came back to himself. His head was foggy and he could tell he was going to have a bad headache soon. He put the pan right on the guttering fire, too exhausted to care about gathering more firewood, another endless task he'd have to do all by himself. Ezlo was nibbling at his hair but he was too tired to ask why, it felt nice anyways, almost like how Grandpa would card his hand through his hair when he cried at home. The thought made his throat tight all over again but he managed to breathe away the rest of the tears.

“Why? Ezlo? Why did it have to be me? I think Grandpa was right, I'm too young for this, I just want to go home, but what would Zelda do? I don't have a choice anymore but I just want to go home and sleep until it goes away,” He mumbled his complaints to his companion as he threw in the vegetables to the pan, pulling off a chunk of butter with his fingers. He couldn't bring himself to get up and fish out his knife, choosing to just keep cooking his meagre dinner with the wooden spoon he already had. The silence of cicada drone was suddenly too little noise.

“Oh Link,”

“I know, I know. I gotta be brave. The King told me so and everything. Zelly's counting on me.” Link sniffled miserably, frowning at the still cooking dinner in his pan. “Why'd that jerk Vaati even do something like this? What did we ever do to him??”

Ezlo paused, searching for answers in the open air. Finding none he sighed and turned back to face Link, cursing his inability to wipe away the tear trails and soothe his blotchy red face. Link looked as miserable as he felt.

“That's not what I meant Link. You've been far braver than you should have to be.” Ezlo sighed, and Link screwed up his face and stuck his tongue out.

“Stir your food it will burn,” Ezlo waited for Link to stir up the food before draping himself over Link's neck again. He knew the truth would come out eventually, but he still couldn't bring himself to force the words out of his mouth. If he had a heart it would be beating out of his chest with the anxiety, and what a funny thing that was to think about – being literally heartless.

“I'm proud of you Link, you're doing the best that you can and that's all anyone can ask of you. I want you to be able to go home too.”

At least that much was true. Link was far too young to be doing this alone. He wanted to cry and scream at every hylian they passed to help him to take up this burden themself, but he knew it would be futile. Maybe Link would be okay, he only had to hold out a little while longer before Ezlo could send him home to his grandfather to heal the soul deep wounds he was amassing while Ezlo sat uselessly on his head. Ezlo could lie to himself and try to believe that, it helped him sleep at night.

Dinner passed in silence. Link was miserable, not even bothering to snip at him when he pulled out the waterskin to make him drink. He fell asleep as soon as he'd pulled on his blankets, leaving the pan dirty in the grass to be cleaned some other time.  At the very least, Ezlo could keep watch for him. Being a hat wasn’t all drawbacks. 

[twilightangel83]

Cuddles!

Sleepy cuddles