#and counsel the kids | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

taleweaver-ramblings · 20 days ago

Text

Inklings Challenge 2024: Son of the Dragon King

Here's my story for @inklings-challenge! I discarded two ideas before settling on this one, whoops. Very pleased with how it turned out, though! Ended up with secondary world fantasy (shocking, I know) and the "counsel the doubtful" theme.

Enjoy!

Son of the Dragon King

The crack in the back wall around the Palace of Azure Seas still hadn’t been fixed. Anzheng dug his toes into it and felt for his next handhold. It made sense, he supposed. In the wake of King Qinglong’s death and the confusion over who the next Dragon King would be, most people probably gave little thought to the condition of a wall that showed no other signs of crumbling — especially not as it was the innermost of the five walls surrounding the palace and the others still stood tall, strong, and smooth as ever. Even so, someone should have noticed it by now. Someone should have done something.

He scrambled the rest of the way to the top of the wall, swung his legs over, and looked down. The ornamental fir still stood near enough the wall that he could easily drop into it when he was ready. Another security risk that someone should do something about. In the meantime, though, it would serve him well.

He waited long enough to see the guards pass by. They, at least, were more alert than they had been on Anzheng’s past visits. Before King Qinglong’s passing, they would often yawn through their patrols, especially back here. Now, however, they kept alert, sweeping their lamps side to side to get a good look at their surroundings and holding their long spears at the ready. Each had a pistol on their belt as well, Anzheng noticed. That was a new development. Which of the princes or princesses had been behind that? Or had it been General Chengzhe’s idea?

In any case, the presence of firearms meant Anzheng would have to be doubly careful not to be noticed — getting shot was an annoyance he had no time for right now. Not that there was much chance of the guards spotting him. Even if they did . . . well, he had every right to be here. He’d just have to make that clear before they could shoot.

Of course, that would be another annoyance, and it might be worse, on the whole, than getting shot would be.

The guards moved on, and Anzheng jumped lightly from the wall to the top branches of the ornamental fir. The needles poked his hands and sap clung to his fingers as he scrambled down, but he paid them little heed. Once on the ground, he paused a moment, listening and watching. Then he darted to the next patch of cover, one in a pair of guardian lion statues. Then to a sheltering bush, then a round garden table, lingering a few moments each time to make sure he hadn’t been noticed.

From the garden table, it was only a few yards to the palace itself. A covered walkway encircled the main building, its shadows providing ample hiding places — but this was not where Anzheng aimed to reach next. Instead, he waited an extra minute, listening hard, then took off running. He gathered himself and leapt. One foot made contact with a bench set at the edge of the walkway, and he pushed off that, reaching for the edge of the roof.

For a moment, he thought he’d missed his target. Then his fingers found the edge of the tiles as if some force had lifted him the final inches. He grabbed on and pulled himself up. The tiles dug into his chest and stomach as he swung his legs up and half-climbed, half-rolled onto the rooftop.

One of his feet hit a cracked tile, breaking it fully. The loose piece skittered off the rooftop, fell to the ground, and shattered. In day, the sound would have been barely noticeable. Now, in the quiet night, it seemed as loud as a cannon. Anzheng stilled, straining his ears. Perhaps he was still safe; perhaps the guards hadn’t noticed . . .

The light of a guard lamp appeared below, and Anzheng heard the man’s voice call out, “Who goes there?”

So much for that. Anzheng pressed himself against the tiles, making himself as flat as possible, barely breathing. People rarely looked up, and he prayed that principle would hold now.

Within him, Power rose like the tide, eager to be used, promising that he could hide himself, ensure that no guard would see him even if they looked straight at him. Anzheng bit his tongue, willing it to a lower ebb. He hadn’t asked for this Power, and he’d not use it, no matter how worthy the cause. Besides, it was too risky — too likely that once he used a drop of that Power, its full measure would burst forth and reveal him instead of hiding him.

The guard continued to peer around for a good ten minutes before shaking his head and walking onward. Anzheng held back a sigh of relief until he was sure the man was gone. Then he carefully clambered the rest of the way up the roof.

Compared to the outer walls, the wall of the palace was easy to climb; window ledges and decorative carvings provided hand- and foot-holds that a child could cling to with no difficulty. Anzheng scrambled upwards in a matter of moments, though he still stopped and flatted himself each time he reached a roof, waiting for any indication that someone had noticed him.

At last, he reached his goal: a window on the fourth floor. It was shut and latched, but a few minutes’ work with a thin knife let the paper and wood panes open freely. He swung himself through, feet hitting the wooden floor with hardly a creak, and started forward —

Only for a long, gleaming-sharp glaive to block his path as a massive, broad-shouldered form detached itself from the shadows of the room. The figure stepped closer, moonlight gleaming off familiar white hair and bright blue eyes. “Well, well, well. What business does a prince of the Ten Thousand Islands have sneaking in the window of the youngest princess?”

“What business does a general have guarding the least of the old king’s children?” Anzheng snapped back. “Surely you have greater threats than I to keep your eyes upon?” He pushed the glaive aside and stepped past the general. “You know what I’m here for.”

“And I can say the same to you.” General Chengzhe turned as Anzheng passed. “Surely the future queen deserves the best guardians available, does she not?” He caught Anzheng’s arm, pulling him around. “Surely she deserves to have her safety assured.”

Anzheng couldn’t help a bitter smile. If only anyone other than General Chengzhe had thought the same about him. “She does.” He shook the thoughts away, summoning back his usual grim expression, and pulled free from the general’s grasp. “Which is why I hope you’ll not stand in my way, General.”

General Chengzhe’s glaive once more blocked Anzheng’s path. “You know I cannot simply let you take her, your highness.”

“Why not? We both desire her safety. We both know she won’t have that here.” Anzheng glanced back to General Chengzhe. The general’s eyes glowed blue — a warning, Anzheng knew. “Will you let me look at her, at least? Or have you gone so far over to another’s side that you’ll deny me that as well?”

General Chengzhe pulled back his glaive, but his eyes still shone in the darkness. “I serve the rightful heirs of King Qinglong, as you well know. That has never changed.”

There was a curious weight in the way the general said the rightful heirs — a weight that suggested that he knew something — something he couldn’t know. But, whispered a voice in the back of Anzheng’s mind, what can’t the general know, when he puts his mind to it?

Nonsense. General Chengzhe was not omniscient. Only the Triune Emperor could claim that distinction. So, Anzheng strode forward, trying not to let his nervousness show as he sensed, rather than heard, General Chengzhe fall in step behind him, making no more noise than a great cat.

Princess Tianxi’s bed lay behind a screen, which Anzheng pushed aside. A small spirit-lamp warded off the deepest shadows and provided light enough to see the little princess. She lay curled up on the mattress, blankets askew, hugging the little panda-doll Anzheng had brought her three visits ago. Tiny blue horn-nubs poked through her black hair, barely a few inches long, the ends just beginning to split — but they glowed ever so slightly as she stirred and whimpered in her sleep.

Anzheng brushed a hand over her round cheek and patted her shoulder. “Shhh. I’m here,” he whispered, just loud enough that she’d be able to hear. She sighed and settled again, the light fading from her horns.

He couldn’t leave her here. Anzheng turned to face General Chengzhe. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“Are you not?” General Chengzhe asked. “Where will you take her, oh dragon’s son?”

There was that tone again. Anzheng steeled himself. “General, she cannot stay here. You cannot stand alone to protect her against the other sons of Qinglong.”

“Hmm.” General Chengzhe surveyed Anzheng, a knowing look in his eyes. “Walk with me, your highness. Let us talk. If you are still set on this plan when our conversation is through, I will let you and the princess go.”

Anzheng raised an eyebrow. “Oh, now you would leave Tianxi unguarded?”

“She will not be unguarded. Lieutenant Qiaoyan is close at hand, and he will see that she is safe,” General Chengzhe replied. “Is this satisfactory?”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve once more planned for everything.” Anzheng inclined his head slightly. “Fine. I will hear you out.”

He followed as General Chengzhe led the way to the door. There, they paused as General Chengzhe let out a high whistle, more like a birdcall. A moment later, a man some fifteen years older than Anzheng appeared from around a corner. He wore blue robes beneath his guard’s armor, and a long sword hung at his side. He made a short bow to Anzheng, murmuring, “Your highness,” then addressed the general. “I see he came, as you said. Shall I guard the princess, then?”

“Do so, and be sure to close the window. We would hate for another intruder to find his way in while we’re talking.” General Chengzhe stepped aside, clearing the doorway for Qiaoyan. “Thank you, lieutenant.”

“Of course, general. Good to see you again, your highness. I hope you’ll stay longer this time.” With a final salute, Qiaoyan stepped past and inside to his new guard position.

Anzheng and General Chengzhe continued some distance down the hall before General Chengzhe said, at last, “You intend to take the princess away. Had you a thought for what would happen after that?”

“I would take care of her as I could, and I know others who will help where I cannot. To that end, your friend in the North sends his greetings, as does his wife.” Anzheng kept his gaze ahead. He had walked these dark halls many times with General Chengzhe in the past, on nights when nightmares tore sleep from him and he found comfort by the general’s side — but those nights had been long ago, when the top of his head barely reached General Chengzhe’s hip.

Life had been easier in those days, in some ways. No matter how bad things were, no matter how his brothers tormented him or his father overlooked them all, General Chengzhe would be there like a tower of comfort, ready to hold Anzheng close and shield him from sorrow and pain. Now . . .

Well. No doubt General Chengzhe would still shield Anzheng if he could. Anzheng knew that, despite what he’d said earlier. Yet some things, not even the White Tiger of the West could hold off forever.

And if he looked at General Chengzhe now, his resolve might just break. He couldn’t afford that, not with Tianxi’s safety on the line. “She would be safe. She would be in hiding where none would look for her.”

“Would they not?” General Chengzhe asked. Though his tone was far from harsh, the edge of doubt still stung. “She is an heir to the Dragon King. Can an old warrior, a young prince, and a reformed monster truly hide her for long? However remote a locale you flee to, those who wish to use her will hunt her down.”

“We would manage.” Anzheng couldn’t keep the stiffness from his voice. He wished he had a spear in hand to grip — not that he would ever use it against the general, but he needed something to hold onto. “She will be able to hide her horns in a few years, if all goes well. And surely if a certain general were to throw off the trail now and then . . .”

General Chengzhe let out a weary huff. “You underestimate your siblings if you think they will give up so easily. They will continue to search for her, and she and whoever hides her will be in danger the whole time. But let us say that you are successful in hiding her — let us say you convince your family that she is dead or beyond their reach. Would you see one of your siblings take your father’s throne?”

“They are welcome to it,” Anzheng spat. “The throne, the palace, and the rest of his legacy. My only goal is that Tianxi is safe.”

“Is it?” General Chengzhe stopped walking, forcing Anzheng to pause as well. “You have lived among the common people these past years, your highness. Would you see them used as pawns by Qinglong’s children in their quest for power? Would you see them suffer under whichever tyrant manages to claim the throne? Make no mistake; whoever succeeds will be a tyrant. They will not show any more care for the people than they did for you.”

“What would you have me do, then?” Anzheng clenched his hands into fists. Within him, Power bubbled like boiling water in a pot, begging to be used. “I cannot leave Tianxi to their machinations. They would set her up as a puppet queen, and then her shoulders would bear the weight of their cruelty towards both her and the people.” The thought was too much to bear — he’d die before he let such a thing occur.

General Chengzhe spoke softly, but his words held as much weight as if he’d shouted. “If another rightful heir appeared, then Princess Tianxi would run no risk of being forced onto the throne, nor would the people be burdened with an usurper for a king.”

What did General Chengzhe know? Anzheng forced himself to stay staring straight ahead. With how the Power within him was surging, he feared his eyes might give him away even if nothing else did. “And where do you expect to find a rightful heir?”

“Anzheng.” General Chengzhe almost sounded as if he were stifling a laugh, stern though his tone might be. “I have served under one Dragon King my whole life. Do you think I would not know if I stood in the presence of another, even if he had hidden his horns?”

Anzheng put out a hand, steadying himself against the wall as dread made his head spin. “I . . . I’m not . . .” No, there was no good denying it. How had he ever thought he could hide anything from the general? “I have no desire for the throne.”

General Chengzhe placed his hand on Anzheng’s shoulder. “Yet you are called to it all the same. Your father and the Triune Emperor have chosen you. Will you refuse their choice?”

How Anzheng wished he could cling to General Chengzhe as he would have when he was a boy! But how could he, when the general asked such a thing of him? “What good would it be if I tried?” His voice broke, for all that he tried to keep it steady. “I couldn’t stand against my brothers when we were mere boys playing in the palace halls. I couldn’t stand against them when they had me exiled for what I had not done. I couldn’t stand against them when that exile was lifted. I have spent the last years running and hiding. How am I supposed to stand against them now?”

“Oh, Anzheng.” The pain in General Chengzhe’s voice echoed that in Anzheng’s own heart. The next moment, the general’s glaive clattered to the ground as Chengzhe pulled Anzheng into his arms.

Despite all his best intentions, Anzheng found himself leaning into the embrace, pressing against Chengzhe’s heart as if he were a little boy again. “I cannot be a king, General.” He swallowed a sob before it could break forth. “I cannot do this.”

“You can.” Chengzhe’s grip tightened. “The Triune Emperor would not have appointed you this task if He had no intention of enabling you to complete it. Trust Him, not yourself. And trust me. When you were a child, I could not help you against your brothers as I wished, not with your father insisting that there was nothing amiss. But I am sworn to serve the Dragon King’s rightful heirs, and I will do all in my power to protect both you and your sister if you but gave the order.”

“I know.” Anzheng let out a long sigh. “I am sorry for suggesting otherwise earlier.” A whisper of a thought slipped through his mind: if the general meant his oaths, then Anzheng could give the order to let him and Tianxi go, and Chengzhe would have to obey.

But could he do that? Could he force General Chengzhe to do such a thing?

And could he deny that Chengzhe was right? Tianxi would be in danger unless Qinglong’s other children were thrown off her scent. Even then, the people would suffer. Things were hard enough for the peasant folk under a good ruler. Anzheng knew his siblings too well to believe that they would even approach decency.

Anzheng had been given Power. He’d been given it for a purpose. It was time to stop denying it.

For a moment longer, Anzheng remained where he was, held tight in Chengzhe’s arms. Then he straightened and pulled away, though he remained facing Chengzhe. “Very well.” With a final twinge of reluctance, he let go of his disguise. He felt the shift at once: the weight on his head from the branching antlered crown — nowhere near as impressive as his father’s had been, but enough to draw the eye just the same — the increase in his height, the readiness of the Power within him to spring to his command. “For Tianxi’s sake, for the people’s sake, and the sake of your oaths. But I cannot do this without you.”

“I would not expect otherwise.” General Chengzhe bowed, and his fallen weapon flickered back into his hand. “Your majesty.”

Anzheng winced despite himself. “My first order, General — unless we are in public, I will no more accept bows or titles from you than I would from my father.” He held out a hand to help the general rise — unnecessary, he knew, but Chengzhe would understand the meaning in the gesture. “Now, will you tell me what I need to know? If I am to do this, we cannot waste time.”

General Chengzhe gave Anzheng’s arm a comforting squeeze before letting go. “It would be my honor, Anzheng. We will speak, and then you should sleep.”

“Are you sure you don’t mean that you wish to sleep?” Anzheng managed a smile. “How many nights have you been waiting up for me to climb in Tianxi’s window?”

“Fewer than you would think,” General Chengzhe chuckled. “I had my sources determining when you would most likely arrive. Still, you are not wrong. We will both need rest to face the challenges ahead — but face them we will.”

“We will,” Anzheng echoed, praying that his courage would not fail him. Then he followed General Chengzhe down the hall to another room where they could speak without fear of disturbance. The road ahead of him would be hard, he knew, but he could run from it no more.

It was time to stand. Time to find out what he was meant to be.

#inklingschallenge #inklings challenge #team tolkien #story: complete #genre: secondary world #theme: counsel #for the record: anzheng's dad was not abusive. just not very present and far too lax with his kids #also I love these characters so much #and qiaoyan is general chengzhe's foster son! but I wasn't able to work that into the text.#he's on duty which is why they refer to each other as “general” and “lieutenant” and not as family

20 notes · View notes

skyloftian-nutcase · 7 months ago

Text

Breath of the Sky Ch 14 (SS meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

AO3 link

Chapter 14: A Set Path

The sunlight was being hidden away by the clouds, reminding him strikingly of his days on the Surface a few months ago. It was still warm, almost too warm, but he shivered nonetheless.

Link and Zelda had been given some privacy as they’d walked away from the picnic site, instead standing on a hill overlooking a good portion of the field. In the distance there were many structures, some stone and some wood, some with people and some with strange animals.

“I didn’t think we’d be stuck doing this again,” Link finally commented, feeling Zelda’s fingers interlace with his own.

Zelda sighed solemnly, staring out at the vastness of the land alongside him. “I… didn’t either.”

There was no going home at this point. They both knew it.

“You sure this wasn’t part of your plan?” he asked, glancing at her. Given his earlier accusation, he felt like dirt even asking, but he had to at least have something to cling to.

“I wish it was,” Zelda muttered bitterly. “At least then I’d know what to do.”

Link felt… hopelessly lost. The words of assurance from the captain echoed in his mind, but what good were those assurances when Hylia’s own plan fell through?

Well. It wasn’t like Hylia had been perfect, he thought with maybe a touch too much resentment. He squeezed Zelda’s hand all the more, trying to push that out of his mind. As much as he tried to separate the two, there was no separating them. As much as Zelda insisted she was still the person he knew, that didn’t change the fact that her past was intermingled with something far beyond his comprehension.

That didn’t mean she still hadn’t used him.

What difference does that make? It was for a good reason.

A reason which had failed. But he knew that was his own doing, not Hylia’s.

Link’s gaze drifted back towards the stone pillars, towards the area in the center of the field where the other two sat. His successor and his descendant. The pair were eating quietly, one more eagerly than the other, but both seemed to occasionally remember Link and Zelda were there and would glance in their direction.

He supposed there was no avoiding them now. Not that he minded being near Zellie all that much, but goddesses above sometimes it was just too much hearing about all of it. As for his successor…

“Link, I…” Zelda started to say, her words lost in the wind for a moment. Link looked back at her, heart clenching at the torn look on her face. “I’m sorry. For all of this.”

“Don’t apologize,” he immediately replied. “This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.”

“But it all started with me,” Zelda noted quietly. “It all started with Hylia.”

Link bit his lip. He’d be a hypocrite to argue against her at this point, at least after all he’d said earlier. Goddesses he wished he’d kept silent. He tried a different tactic. “Whoever started it, I’m the one who—”

“Oh, just stop,” Zelda cut in tiredly, releasing his hand and hugging herself. “Please, just—I just—”

“I just wish it wasn’t like this,” Link finished for her, slowly wrapping his arms around her and letting her melt into the reassuring embrace.

They were in the future. The future. They were beholding the fruits of their efforts. Why couldn’t this just be a happy occasion? At least for Zelda – for Link it would’ve been beyond his comprehension, really, overwhelming and amazing and wild and wonderful, but… anything would’ve been better than this sinking realization.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

Zelda’s words, mixed with tears and choking on relief and joy, echoed in his mind. They’d thought it was over.

“What are we going to do?” he asked her.

Zelda shuddered in his hold, burying her face in his chest. “I don’t know. They… they don’t even know if the Triforce still exists.”

Link blanched, pulling away. “What? That was the entire crux of our plan!”

“I know,” Zelda cried. “I know! I don’t understand how—what—they said something about beasts, about those guardian things and the sword—”

“Fi? How’s Fi going to fix this?” Link asked. “Can she—is she even awake? Can she talk?”

He didn’t think she could, honestly – not based on her reaction when he’d held her at the festival. She’d sung, yes, but he should’ve heard her voice. Fi had said she’d go into an eternal slumber for the sole purpose of keeping Demise sealed away.

Maybe that was where they could start, then. Maybe something had happened to Fi.

“We need to talk to them,” Link said firmly, looking back at the pair again. His resolve faltered at the thought of speaking to his successor, as he didn’t really even deserve to, but Zelda’s tears motivated him well enough. If his beloved was floundering, he’d find a solution, because he would never leave her in such a helpless state.

Link’s resolve faded the closer they got to the pair, but it was too late by then. Zellie and the new Hero noticed their approach, watching them. As Link’s steps faltered from shame over his failure, Zelda took the lead, guiding him forward with a gentle hand. When the pair sat across from the other two, the Hero carefully pushed food towards Link.

Everyone stared at each other awkwardly.

“So,” Zelda said, finally taking the lead. “You mentioned guardians and divine beasts would help you fight De—Calamity Ganon. And then… you two would fight him? Right?”

Zellie looked at her Hero and then back at Zelda before nodding.

Link opened his mouth to ask about Fi and then found his voice not cooperating. He looked down, hands balling up his tunic and releasing it in anxious movements.

“And you need help with your powers,” Zelda continued.

The princess visibly wilted, looking down.

Link blinked. “What powers?”

Zellie and the new Hero’s eyes immediately went to him, widened as if he’d spoken some kind of heresy.

“I think she’s supposed to have the magic to seal him away,” Zelda answered hesitantly. “That’s what I’ve gathered, at least?”

The pair switched their horrified gazes to Zelda now. Well… at least Link wasn’t melting under their stares anymore. But why the faces?

“You—you think?” Zellie repeated. “But I—my prayers—”

“Look,” Zelda interrupted. “Let’s get this straight. Whatever prayers you’re saying, or anyone is saying—I’m not hearing them. I’m not—I don’t have that kind of power, to read people’s minds and stuff. And—and whoever you’re praying to, you’re doing it in this era, you know? I’m—we’re from the past.”

“W-well, yes,” Zellie acknowledged a little uncomfortably. But it seemed curiosity got the better of her, her eyes shining. “But—how—what is it like, where you are? Can you sense—I mean, you got here somehow, and—”

“I got here because of Link,” Zelda interrupted before hastily adding, “B-but obviously we were destined to be here, too. I mean—what else are the odds that we learn of the demon king’s survival just as you’re preparing for him? But I—this wasn’t my planning. I don’t know what’s happening. We’re trying to piece it together.”

Link’s gaze drifted towards the Master Sword, and he found himself making eye contact with the Hero wielding it. He quickly looked back at Zellie, who seemed simultaneously worried and fascinated.

“All my life, I’ve… I’ve had to try and teach myself this power,” Zellie said softly, her expression growing despairing, frustrated, before she looked hopefully at Zelda. “If you can… if Your Grace would be so kind as to help me… I…”

“I already promised you I would,” Zelda assured her with a smile. “Knight’s honor.”

Zellie blinked. “Knight’s… honor?”

“Oh. Sorry. Expression,” Zelda chuckled nervously, rubbing her hands together.

“Zelda’s a knight,” Link immediately said. “Not a goddess.”

Well. She was his goddess, but that was beside the point. The point was he knew how much this Your Grace nonsense was bothering her. He’d seen her tolerate it fine with Impa, but that was during her rediscovery of her past. She’d been trying to reconcile it since then, and Farore knew this wasn’t helping.

Zelda sighed at the bemused expressions they were receiving. “I… I am the goddess Hylia reborn. But I… look. I’m just… I was born a human like everyone else. I can barely remember my life as Hylia. I…”

“Why?” the princess asked before catching herself.

Zelda quickly waved off her apology that she was about to splutter. “Because I—Hylia, I mean—was killed. I—Hylia sacrificed herself to seal the calamity away until I could come back to defeat him with Link.”

Here she paused, looking at Link, eyes alight with love, face glowing with pride. Despite his own guilt and shame, Link couldn’t help melting a little at the gaze, smiling at her in return.

“Fascinating,” Zellie whispered.

Zelda and Link lost the girl’s wonder in their own attention to each other before his beloved finally smiled back at the other two. “If we’re going to figure out how to stop the demon king, we’ll need to see everything involved in this plan of yours. And as for your powers… my memories were awakened at the sacred springs. Maybe we could start there?”

It was interesting watching the princess’ reactions to Zelda’s words. She was delighted at first, and ashamed at the end. Clearly, her powers were a point of contention for her.

Link could sympathize. Goddess… he hoped she didn’t feel as he did, but he had a sinking suspicion that was indeed the case. How could she possibly feel such a way? It wasn’t as if her lack of abilities had caused harm yet, right? It couldn’t be any more catastrophic than his own failures – despite the obvious one, he’d also nearly let Zelda die at the hands of Ghirahim. Were it not for Impa in the Earth Temple, all would have been lost due to Link’s ineptitude.

And in the end, what difference did it make?

Link shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Stop. This isn’t helping.

He looked ahead again and saw the knight staring at him. Abruptly, he felt his cheeks flush and he looked down at his uneaten food. He hesitantly pushed it back towards the knight.

The pair stared at each other again before their gaze drifted to the plate. The knight hesitantly took the food back, eating it.

“Well, if you want to see guardians, I can show you some at the castle,” Zellie said eagerly, rising to her feet. “But the divine beasts reside in their champions’ domains. I can arrange for all of us to travel across Hyrule! It will—we can stop at the springs as well, but—you’ll see all that we have built, all we have prepared for the coming calamity.”

Link and Zelda looked at each other, surprised, before looking back at the princess. “There’s… more to Hyrule?”

Zellie practically glowed with pride. “Why yes, of course! Come, we must hurry, I’ll prepare everything!”

Well… at least they had a plan. Link rose at the same time as the knight, and the two nearly bumped shoulders, making Link stumbled towards Zelda. He was pretty certain he’d fumbled enough conversations today, so perhaps he’d save asking about Fi for later. But as the four walked, it was immediately apparent he was stuck lingering with his successor while Zellie babbled excitedly in the front of the group, nearly holding Zelda hostage with her conversation. Link found that he couldn’t help but stare at the blade, aching for its warmth, for Fi’s voice to echo in his mind and heart.

He felt so incredibly alone seeing her on someone else’s back.

Zelda stopped abruptly. “Oh! I almost forgot. We have to have nicknames, or this is going to get way too confusing. We have a few already – Dove, you’ll go by Cloud, and he’ll go by Champion. Now we just need to figure out me and the princess.”

Cloud? Link tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at his wife, curious where that nickname had come from. He’d accept it, of course… did this have to do with the cloud barrier? Skyloft? Or was it a joke based on that story at the festival?

He felt a smile pull at his lips. As much as he’d shot down the ideas the princess had brought up about his existence, it was beginning to grow on him. He could at least garner some entertainment from the absolute ignorance surrounding his identity. Besides, he’d promised himself he’d buy into it the next time someone brought it up. It was too funny not to.

Helpfully, he added, “The princess said she’s okay with going by Zellie.”

The knight, Champion, stared at the princess a moment, and though his face was placid as ever, Link could sense some kind of underlying question hidden in it.

“I guess that just leaves me,” Zelda muttered thoughtfully.

“Your Grace… wants a nickname?” Zellie questioned.

“Of course I do!” Zelda answered sincerely. “I mean… we’re going to be friends! I don’t want you addressing me like some distant deity and the like. I may be the spirit maiden, but… I want us to be friends. This isn’t… this isn’t my…”

Zelda faltered, stumbling on words and thoughts, and Link watched her reluctantly. He wasn’t exactly eager to back her up in this instance – she’d spent their entire venture discovering her identity as someone else, and she had been struggling to retain her own self as Zelda since then. He wasn’t going to encourage her taking on a new persona, even if it was just a nickname.

“We’ll figure it out,” he finally cut in quietly just to move the conversation away from it.

Zelda sighed, shrugging, and the princess continued to lead them back to the castle. Link kept up this time, though, so as to avoid looking at Fi any longer. It seemed Champion always remained two steps behind his princess, anyway.

Noticing how the Champion lagged behind, Zelda smiled welcomingly and fell back so she could be in step with him, leaving Zellie and Link in the front. As Link looked around, he found other things to focus on. Like how distinctly open and alive this place felt while simultaneously… lacking something. The more he stared at the world around him, the strangely more apparent it became, and he wasn’t sure why he’d only just noticed it now, or what it meant.

This land of Hyrule was beautiful and vast, stunning beyond all comprehension. But the Surface that Link knew was brimming with something else in the air, the very fabric of the life woven through the land was teeming with magic and energy. Here, it simply… wasn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. It felt like something had been lost while so much had been gained, and it suddenly made him pause. Perhaps this was what was lost when there was no trace of the Triforce, no guidance from Fi, with magic steadily draining from this land.

Link felt all the lonelier for it.

“Hero? Um… C-Cloud?”

Cloud? Oh, yes. That was him. Link looked somewhat reluctantly at the princess, waiting for her to continue. They’d talked so easily earlier, but he’d left that conversation rather abruptly. He hoped he hadn’t seemed too rude. Not that his conversation with Zelda had gone any better, though at least…

Wait. Wait. Had those two… had they been there? If that captain had heard his argument…

Oh goddess.

Despite his own feelings on the matter, the princess’ eyes showed only pity. That solidified his dreaded suspicion, though it simultaneously confused him – given how horribly he’d talked to Zelda, he’d expect disgust or disdain, not whatever it was Zellie was currently conveying.

Despite seeming to be practically overflowing with words to say, the princess faltered in her approach. Instead, she looked down at her clasped hands, wringing them nervously. Link wished he could say something instead, wished that he could maybe figure out if she truly did feel like she was failing because of whatever issue she was having with her powers, but… he could hardly hold on to any kind of assurances for himself; there was little way he could find a way to comfort her.

But Link hated to see her like this. He hated to see anyone he cared about hurting. And by the goddesses, he could see Zelda in every feature of this girl, in her blonde hair, in her intelligent eyes, in her love and pride in her people.

And he could see himself. He could see his sensitivity in her, he could see how the responsibility on her shoulders was crushing her just as his journey had crushed him.

Instinctively, Link reached out, letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Zellie jumped a little, startled, and looked back at him as he smiled at her. Perhaps he didn’t have the words to cheer her up at the moment, but he could at least offer support in other ways.

Zellie let out a soft sigh and smiled. “I can’t wait for you to see Hyrule.”

The words settled in Link’s heart, and he smiled in return. Despite his catastrophic failure, this land had not only survived but grown far beyond his ability to even fathom. And that… that had to mean something, didn’t it? If time and time again Demise had tried to destroy the land, and it had still somehow managed to turn into this, then…

Then maybe it wasn’t such a failure, after all.

XXX

The beauty of the castle gardens was terrifyingly diminished with the howls of anguish and anger coming from the royal horticulturalist as Mipha awkwardly sidled away from the newly tainted silent princess flower bed. She had escorted the Hero of Myth to the others before excusing herself, as she was not at all capable or important enough to be near a goddess, and had sought peace near the fountains in the castle grounds. Given the drama unfolding with other royal attendants trying to calm the woman, Mipha decided it was best to patrol the area.

Seeing Hyrule Castle was always an incredible sight, but the longer she lingered here, the more she ached for home. She missed her baby brother Sidon, she missed her father, she missed the flowing rivers and waterfalls, the diving places and beautiful scenery and mountains. Zora’s Domain was a sprawling city in its own right, but it somehow was far more homely than Castle Town, and it was less stifling than the royal halls. Perhaps it was the open architecture of her home, or perhaps it was the looming responsibility that hung heavily in the air here, a constant reminder of an evil that was coming.

It was no wonder Link had grown to be so quiet and stressed. Mipha would too if she were constantly living here.

The Zora princess leaned against a stone wall, hiding in the shade so she could enjoy the cool a little bit. She would be returning to the Domain tomorrow with her entourage, which was a relief. She would miss Link, but… well… duty came first. For all of them.

Her heart a little heavier, she tried to cheer herself up by finding her guards and attendants, when she instead nearly walked into the path of the goddess Hylia herself, and Mipha bit back a startled yelp as she dove for the nearest bush to hide in. She landed highly unceremoniously, feet in the air as she was caught in branches, hissing as twigs rubbed against her scales, though thankfully they could not cut through them. Mipha wiggled helplessly, at least tucking her feet in as best she could, before she heard gravel crunch and footsteps stop in front of her newfound prison.

When silence prevailed, Mipha turned her gaze as best she could, catching sight of familiar boots. She hesitantly whispered, “L-Link?”

Hands rested around her waist, making her heart speed up far more than it really should have (and oh why did that have to be the case, when they used to be able to laugh and play and push each other and fight as children and never was it so strange or awkward or different), and she was gently lifted out of the bush and placed on the ground. Link’s hold stayed on her as he stared at her, face calm but eyes soft, one cheek sucked in like he was trying desperately not to laugh. Mipha’s eyes looked frantically around them, and she was relieved to see that the rest of the party must have moved forward without him.

“O-oh, I’m—that was so incredibly—I’m very sorry, Link,” Mipha stammered, growing ever more frantic the longer the two of them stood so close to each other. Link’s hands slid off her waist at that, and he took a step back. Mipha cleared her throat and also mirrored the move, giving both of them more breathing room. “W-well. I. Yes. Thank you.”

Link watched her for a while longer, all earlier frazzled energy long gone. He was back to the stoic knight he always seemed to be, or at least most of the time. His eyes caught sight of something, and he reached forward to pluck a leaf out of her jewelry on her head.

Mipha felt herself blush in embarrassment at the reminder of her silly maneuver and even sillier predicament, and she ran her fingers across all her jewelry to ensure she was presentable. Trying to push the matter aside, she asked, “D-did… did everything go well with the goddess?”

Her friend nodded.

“Well, that’s good,” Mipha said with a smile. Then she shifted a little, heart growing heavy once more. “Link, I… I’m going to be leaving tomorrow. I… it was truly wonderful to see you again. I hope, perhaps, we can see each other again soon.”

Another nod was the acknowledgement. Mipha bit back a sigh. She understood, truly. But… well…

There was a way for him to ease up a little. But he had to agree to it.

“I was wondering… before I left… if—if, well…” oh goodness, this shouldn’t be so hard to ask! They used to swim together all the time! “I was going to go for a swim in the moat tonight. Would… would you like to join me?”

Link watched her a moment, and Mipha felt like she could melt into a puddle as he deliberated it. But then he nodded again, and her heart fluttered as a genuine smile pulled at her lips. She gave him a place where they could meet up, and he nodded, continuing along the path where the others had gone.

XXX

To say that he felt sure of anything in his life anymore was little more than a joke. Ever since his wife’s death and the prophecy, King Rhoam had felt like his life had spiraled entirely out of control. He had been an outsider to the royals, marrying into the family, purely there for support of his wife as she ruled the kingdom and served as a religious symbol and leader to their people. Yet her untimely death left him in charge, a man who had not been raised for such a rule, a man who had to do everything in his power to be the steady leader the people looked up to him to be, and to somehow raise his daughter to be just as wise and powerful as her mother.

He was failing, of course. As was Zelda. But Rhoam had continued to persevere, and if pushing his daughter to the breaking point was the way to protect her and help her grow, he’d be the subject of her ire. Despite it all, she had to prevail, even if he was failing.

But by the ancient goddesses, he had never in his life felt so utterly useless and lost. The franticness and demands that Her Grace Hylia had spouted during their conversation rang in his mind like a bell. Words of a mystical Triforce, something that was only remembered through symbolism and threadbare stories, made him feel far more incapable than he thought possible. How could he have failed Hyrule so? The prophecy had spoken of the solution to the Calamity being found under the ground, and the ancient Sheikah tech had been discovered buried in the earth. It had seemed heaven-sent solution, alongside the appearance of the Hero. Rhoam had just needed to get Zelda ready and it would have been fine. But what of the Triforce, then? The goddess seemed downright frantic at his lack of knowledge on the matter, and though she had promised to help Zelda, giving him hope, he still felt like he’d failed catastrophically.

He had to figure this out. A trip to the royal library was in order. To his surprise, the king found his daughter there as well. “Zelda?”

His dearest yelped as she whirled around. “Father! I was just doing some research and preparation. Her Grace, the goddess Hylia, and her Sacred Hero will be accompanying me as I show them the Divine Beasts and—”

The Divine Beasts?! What did that have to do with her training? Feeling his cheeks grow hot, the king interrupted, “You should be focusing on your duty, Zelda, not that of the Champions. Do not waste such prestigious guests’ time. I prayed to Her Grace for your sake.”

Zelda stiffened. “Y-yes, I—I know, Father, I just—they wanted to see them too.”

Oh. Well, then. The king found himself incapable of backtracking after snapping at her, and he felt all the worse for it. “When will you leave?”

“The sooner the better,” his daughter answered, regaining some of her excitement, though it was far more muted. Rhoam truly prayed that Hylia could help his child – the sooner she could discover her powers, the sooner she could be safe, the kingdom could be safe, and maybe… maybe he could attempt to rebuild his relationship with her. “I was thinking tomorrow, perhaps? But I wanted to plan the trip a little first.”

Rhoam agreed that the sooner his daughter could embark on her training the better, but he also felt his heart beat a little faster at the thought of such a quick departure. It wasn’t just his daughter with her appointed knight, a pair who could travel fairly indiscriminately and not attract too much attention outside of towns and villages. The two were safe together. But to include the goddess and her Hero… it felt nearly inappropriate to rush such a journey with them involved. Perhaps he should get the captain of the royal guard and arrange for some kind of escort?

The king left his daughter in peace to prepare, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked there was no one there. Filling with anxious energy, he set out to summon the captain and then he could return to his own studies. Perhaps he should save researching about the Triforce for tomorrow… but no. He had to focus on his own duties as much as he pushed Zelda to focus on hers.

The captain of the royal guard came promptly when called for, and he knelt immediately upon entering the sanctum.

“Rise,” Rhoam ordered. “My daughter will be setting out with her knight tomorrow, and Her Grace, the Goddess Hylia, will be accompanying them alongside the Hero of Myth. I want to ensure their security is of paramount importance.”

Captain Abel watched the king a moment, stoic demeanor the spitting image of his son. The boy had come from a fine lineage of knights, and his father was no different. The captain was reliable, and Rhoam waited patiently as the man thought through the process.

“Your Majesty,” he started. “With all due respect, Princess Zelda and Her Grace Hylia are protected by the best Hylian knight in the land and the Hero of Myth and Legend, a warrior created by the goddess for the sole purpose of defeating Ganon. It would be a misuse of resources to send the royal guard, or even a battalion of knights, to go with them. We must stay here and protect you and the royal scientists, as well as their important work on the guardians.”

Ah, and this was where father differed from son. Link was a silent knight, obeying every command given to him. While his father’s loyalty was unquestionable, the man did what he believed was best for Hyrule, and though he would also inevitably follow any command ordered of him, he might offer a rebuttal first. Rhoam appreciated it, as his advice was usually sound.

Such as now. But the king couldn’t help but worry. “Surely we can afford to send at least a few knights, Captain.”

“I will do as Your Majesty commands if you wish it so,” the captain answered with a bow. “Where will they be going?”

“They will be visiting the Divine Beasts, as well as the sacred springs,” Rhoam replied.

Captain Abel remained quiet a moment, considering, and then suggested, “Perhaps we could request the Champions to accompany them? I can think of no finer protection.”

Ah, yes, of course! Although Rhoam had little authority to command certain Champions to act as guards for his daughter, they would be obliged to accompany Hylia, particularly if going to their own domains. Rhoam smiled at the captain. “That is a perfect idea, Captain. Please, summon the Champions to the sanctum. I will make my request to them.”

The royal knight bowed deeply before exiting the sanctum, leaving Rhoam to his thoughts. With the added protection of the Champions, the goddess would be both safe and honored properly. Perhaps it would help his daughter focus a little better too, as she often lost her way when left in charge of an expedition. Nevertheless, Zelda was the commander of the Champions, and it was good for her to travel a bit more with them anyway. Rhoam prayed it was enough. He would research tirelessly on other ways to help, however minimal it might be.

It would be enough. It had to be.

XXX

The sun hung heavily on the horizon as Link and Zelda sat side by side on stone that helped support the highest tower in the castle. After the fairly awkward picnic lunch, the group had gone their separate ways, Champion disappearing entirely upon reentering the castle grounds while Zellie eagerly said she’d plan out their trip and vanished around a corner. Link and Zelda had remained quiet for most of the afternoon, piecing together their resolve while still drawing strength from each other. They had silently grown tired of the confinement of the stone walls and climbed to the highest point of the castle. The air was a touch chillier here, though not nearly clear and relieving enough, but it was still better than being trapped inside.

And Zelda would be lying if she said it wasn’t beautiful.

The scale of the castle was all the more apparent up here, rivaling Skyloft in size, and Castle Town was nearly as large. Beyond the large protective walls of the town was the sprawling green beauty of greater Hyrule, and settlements speckled the area, promising of more to see and more to explore. Zelda could hardly believe it.

Link’s fingers settled over hers as he shifted his hand closer. Zelda glanced over at him, seeing the sunlight sparkle in his eyes as he gazed out in wonder.

This felt like all the times they’d sit together at the edge of Skyloft, having played themselves into exhaustion and silence. Link had always been a quiet one, and Zelda had never had an issue with it, sometimes enjoying the tenderness such silence could bring. She especially appreciated it on days that Groose was particularly loud and annoying.

But looking at her beloved husband right now reminded her of their earlier fight, of his words and the princess’ fears and the king’s request and her own anxieties. She again found herself wondering how she was going to juggle all this, how she could help the princess fight Demise, how they could even defeat him this time. At least with a trip to look at these divine beast things, there was a plan in place. Zelda could work with a plan.

Besides… maybe the springs could hold something for her as well. Maybe… maybe in the past… when she’d been Hylia… surely she’d seen this coming, right?

Right?

Zelda didn’t know what to do. She had no guide. She missed Impa so much it hurt.

At least I have Link with me this time, she thought, though there was a touch of bitterness to it. Of course he was with her this time – it wasn’t like he could escape this wretched fate, either. But honestly… she couldn’t imagine dealing with this with anyone else. As much as she wished Impa was here, she was forever grateful that Link was. If only both of them could accompany her. If only things could make sense.

But never mind that. There was a whole new world to explore. The Surface had been amazingly new and beautiful, and her restored memories had not lessened that. She couldn’t wait to see what the Surface had become now.

She tried to focus on that, tried to reorient her mind to recognizing that this wasn’t just a terrifying preparation for the war to begin anew. It was an adventure, and she would make sure it ended well.

But wait. Someone else had been on their adventure.

Zelda found herself thinking of her own people, of her friends and her father and the other settlers. She hoped and prayed they were alright.

And that they wouldn’t get near the Gate. Surely… surely they wouldn’t. There was no way they could. Groose was injured (Golden Three, she hoped he was doing okay), and no one else dared enter the Sealed Temple.

She hoped the guards she asked for would keep the place safe.

Zelda leaned over, letting her head rest on Link’s shoulder, and her husband settled his head atop hers. Tomorrow was going to be the start of something entirely new, and she was glad they would face it together.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Link turned his head to nuzzle into her hair a little more, and his arm moved to wrap around her. “I love you too.”

XXX

Hyrule Castle hummed with anticipation as the last rays of sunlight seeped out of the sky. Champions genuflected to the king, spoke with their guards and servants, and prepared themselves for the honor of accompanying a deity. The princess of Hyrule sprawled out on her bed, maps and books all over the covers, though they did little benefit as the girl’s head slowly plopped directly on to a book about the history of the Temple of Time, soft snores escaping her. The royal guards protecting the goddess’ quarters grew anxious as no goddess appeared, while two teenagers snuggled high up above the castle, enjoying the clear night sky. The captain of the guard prayed quietly in his quarters, dinner forgotten, as he thought about the trip the next day. The king moved restlessly through the royal library as he tried to find any clues of the Triforce.

Meanwhile, the princess’ appointed knight snuck around the castle walls, looking around the docks before finding a suitable place to strip off his shirt as the Zora princess waved at him.

The water was cold, and Link felt himself involuntarily gasp as he dipped his bare feet into it. Grabbing hold of his resolve, he leapt into the water, knowing the best way to adjust to the temperature was to just take the plunge. He let it invigorate him, startling all the worries of the day out of his mind as he just focused on swimming. Somehow, just floating in the water helped carry his worries away. He always enjoyed it.

Mipha giggled, catching his attention, and he swam over to her, smiling. They hadn’t done this in what felt like years—maybe it actually had been that long. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until just now.

“Oh Link,” Mipha said happily. “I’m so glad you could join me!”

Link’s smile grew, and the princess took that as a cue to continue.

“King Rhoam asked for me,” she noted, catching his attention. “Alongside all the other Champions. He asked us to accompany you and the princess as she took the goddess Hylia around Hyrule. I could hardly say no to such a request, but—oh, Link, how can I even get near such a being? Surely I’m not worthy of that. Do you think she’ll go in a carriage or something? At least that way she’ll never see me.”

Link stared at her a moment, letting the words flow through him like the water. The king wished the Champions to go with them? That wasn’t unreasonable, but it certainly changed things a little. Mostly for the better, honestly.

Except for Revali. Ugh. Great.

But having Mipha around would be nice. And Princess Zelda would appreciate Chief Urbosa’s company. Not to mention Daruk’s company would be nice. Though… Link wasn’t sure how Hylia or her Hero would take it.

But Mipha’s concerns registered in his mind, and he shook his head. In the solitude of the castle waters, he didn’t have to hide himself, though the paranoia persisted despite being with his friend. He pushed himself to speak freely. “She’s… not what I expected. I don’t think she’ll dislike you, Mipha.”

“Perhaps,” his friend agreed uncertainly, eyes looking at the moonlight dancing on the water.

“Nobody could dislike you,” Link reassured her, swimming a little closer and sinking into the water so he ended up in her line of sight. Mipha giggled at him as the only part of him that was visible above water was from his nose to the top of his head. She dove abruptly, and Link followed suit, the pair smiling at each other as they swam in circles. It almost felt like they were kids again, playing in Zora’s Domain while Link’s father was assigned there. It almost made him forget everything that was happening.

Almost.

Though, now that he had stepped away from the others, now that he was allowed to just have some simple fun and be with a friend, his mind felt much clearer. The usual immense weight on his shoulders felt a little less heavy, even just momentarily. While Hylia herself was still quite the mystery, her Hero was less so. And while Link still felt a little intimidated approaching him or Her Grace, he could at least draw courage from the fact that neither of them hated him.

He hoped the trip would be fruitful for Zelda. He truly did. The poor princess deserved it.

But what else would this trip bring? What could Link possibly contribute to it? Nothing, he supposed, except for his protection, as always. He supposed that was enough.

As Link and Mipha breached the water’s surface, he glanced back at the castle, wondering what this journey would bring. The playful moment was gone, Mipha stilled beside him, and then she said quietly, “The Calamity draws ever nearer… but Link… we have so much going for us. It must all end well, right?”

I don’t know. He truly didn’t. But… he nodded nonetheless. Because Mipha didn’t need to worry, and honestly, Link would do everything in his power to ensure that Calamity Ganon would be defeated. That had always been enough.

“I pray it will,” Mipha continued, before smiling gently at him. “I will strive to improve my fighting abilities in the meantime. I hope Her Grace and the Hero enjoy seeing the Domain—oh! Oh, I must send word to my father! We can’t be unprepared over such a visit!”

And just like that, his friend was in a frenzy, fretting about divine visitors and speaking about how Zora’s Domain should be ready. Link followed her back to the shore, somewhat amused—he was pretty certain there was nothing she could do to alert her father at the moment, but he was no stranger to worrying over everything and nothing in the middle of the night—and the pair snuck back into the castle. Link tried to hide his shivers as he crept along, listening to water drip off them both on the cobblestone.

“Oh, you’re freezing!” Mipha fretted, immediately grabbing him and holding him close. Link felt his heart skip a beat and by the goddesses he wished he didn’t—they’d done this as children; all the Zora had huddled together for warmth when exiting frigid waters. As children they weren’t quite adept and regulating their temperature, and they knew that Link himself was not capable. But it felt—now it was—

Link swallowed, feeling his cheeks warm up far faster than the rest of him, and Mipha froze. The two locked eyes for a moment, and the Zora princess immediately spluttered and stumbled back so quickly she nearly fell into yet another plant. Link reached out automatically, catching her by the wrist, and she hastily said, “I m-must go, I’m so very sorry, Link, good night!”

The young knight watched his friend practically flee indoors, and he felt… he didn’t know. Guilty? Sad? Embarrassed? All three?

He sighed as his gaze drifted upward along the castle. The worries from a moment ago bled out of him easily as anxieties over tomorrow filled the void. He didn’t think he would be sleeping much tonight. But the focus was back on Princess Zelda, where it belonged. He was there to fulfill a duty as well, but it didn’t require attention or scrutiny. He could guard and watch. He could do that.

He found himself wondering if the Hero of Legend would do that as well. He found himself wondering what he was even supposed to do with that Hero.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore, honestly. And while he no longer held any worry that his predecessor hated him, he certainly had little idea of how to help him. Assuming he even needed help.

It was all just… confusing. If this trip was fruitful in any way, he hoped it would at least make things less confusing.

I suppose I’ll find out, he thought as he followed Mipha’s wet footprints inside the castle, slipping back into the façade of the perfect soldier.

#writing #breath of the wild #skyward sword #legend of zelda #breath of the wild link #botw link #breath of the wild zelda #botw zelda #skyward sword link #ss link #skyward sword zelda #ss zelda #zelink #miphlink #mipha and link are anxious little beans in love #and too dumb to figure it out #everyone needs an adult and a hug #even the adults lol #Abel deserves a pay raise #Rhoam needs some counseling on how to be a good dad #he's got the right spirit but DUDE #the royal guards assigned to protect Hylia and the Mythical Hero when they realize they're missing again: YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME #nobody knows the lovebirds are sitting on the top of the castle #Abel is gonna get a frantic messenger again and sigh heavily #Zellie is planning a great National Geographic Tour of Hyrule and is super excited about it #WHO'S READY FOR A ROAD TRIP #breath of the sky #skye time travels through the queue

38 notes · View notes