#but revali shoots using his hand wing fingers

[vulpiximisa]

I think I’d always seen it as “revali was created as a rival for link” but reading the actual words in creating a champion, he was created “as a rival to link”. (Someone who won’t easily like Link like everyone else, etc) So it’s more like Revali sees them as rivals, but we don’t know what Link thinks. I mean, I guess it was obvious that way but I guess I’d been hoping for “word of god” that revali is something special 😞

[jinmukangwrites]

Gifts

Read on AO3

Prompt

Summary: Wild tells of the gifts the past Champions have given him. All that's left is for the others to witness these gifts.

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, temporary character death.

Notes: Finally got a prompt done. Y'all proud of me? If you are, then know I wrote this instead of Chapter 2 of Succumb because I'm an awful creature who has a solid idea for the entire fic except Chapter 2 and I'm avoiding it. Stop being proud of me now.

---

“How about you, Champ?”

Wild blinks from the daze he's fallen into and looks up to see eight pairs of eyes all looking right at him. The moon hangs lazily above them, nothing more than a C-shape tied to the stars to watch them all talk themselves to sleep. Wild’s zoned out of this one, for reasons he can’t really explain why. It’s not that what they’re talking about tonight is particularly dull or offensive. It’s just… well… they’re talking about magic and discussing the common theme that seems most sources of magic that they know has been given to them.

Time and Great Fairies. Hyrule and wise men in caves. Wild’s sure the others all have similar stories, he’s just decided to not listen to them tonight.

“About me?” He asks hopefully. Maybe they have changed topics while he was trying to decide what the woodchip by his boot resembles.

Four leans forward on his knees, wiggling his eyebrows. “Any magical gifts that you’ve been holding out on us?”

Wild tries not to let his disappointment show on his face. “Ah.” He curls his fingers around the hem of his tunic before they could nervously knit with each other on his lap. “Nothing that’s important.”

Besides him, Twilight scoffs. “Nothing that’s important? Cub, either you really are holding out on us or you’re being humble.”

“Wild? Humble?” Warriors snorts. “Perish the thought.”

Wild sighs. “Really, I don’t have any cool stories to tell tonight. I’d much rather listen to you all.”

“Listen, huh?” Four challenges, grinning like an imp. “Who taught Hyrule how to shoot fire from his sword?”

Wild rolls his eyes. “Some old guy in a cave.”

“Actually,” Hyrule says with a soft, apologetic smile, “it was an old man in a basement.”

“What is up with you and old men?”

“Anyway,” Twilight says, giving Wild a hard look, “you’re obviously not listening. Is something wrong? You’re usually more talkative.”

Does Twilight have to be a doting old mother in front of everyone? Wild can feel himself bristling. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking tonight. Vet isn’t talking and you’re not pestering him.”

“That’s because Vet never talks about himself,” Warriors says, foiling Wild’s entire argument. Legend has a smug look on his face. “Not unless he’s trying to heighten his own ego.” Legend’s smug look falls into a glare.

“Fine,” Legend says. “I’ll tell one. Then Champ can tell one, so that you all will get off both of our backs.”

“It has to be serious, Leg,” Wind butts in, completely oblivious to Wild’s dying hope of getting out of this conversation. “No ‘I got my magic from being super cooler than everyone else’ bull.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Legend snaps. “Besides, I don’t have magic. I have magical items. Which is just as useful.”

“Then what’s that one?” Sky points at the small clay ocarina in Legend’s hands. “You’ve been holding it all night.”

Legend stills and his face softens, and immediately the whole group can tell that whatever that ocarina is, Legend has feelings attached to it. He takes a deep breath. “It’s not very magic,” he says, his fingers rubbing over the holes reverently. “It used to be able to summon a gust of wind to take me wherever I needed to go. It could also awaken the dead under specific circumstances… now it’s nothing but clay. It doesn’t work anymore.”

“Where’d you get it?” Wind asked, and not unkindly. He, like the rest of the group, knows that Legend wouldn’t be holding an item so tenderly if it only didn’t work anymore.

Legend stays silent for a moment, allowing the crickets in the forests to sing uninterrupted. Then, his shoulders fall. “The most beautiful woman I ever met gave it to me. She had the most lovely voice. This… after… after I lost her, I woke up stranded at sea. It was around my neck on a string… it’s all the proof I have that she ever existed.”

Silence hangs over the group like a heavy blanket. Wild can’t help but feel a lob of guilt get stuck in his chest. All he can do is sit and watch Sky lean over and place a hand on Legend’s knee.

“Love is one of the most powerful magics an item can hold, even if it’s just a good memory.”

Legend brings a sleeve to his eye, holding the ocarina tightly with his other hand. “Oh shut it, you sap,” he says through a smile. Sky smiles back, and Wild curls his arms across his chest.

Besides him, Twilight looks at him. Not expectantly, though, but with understanding. Perhaps he knows now why sometimes someone would wish to stay silent during these kinds of nights. Not everyone got magical gifts from old men in caves. Or basements.

But the guilt sits, and no one is saying it’s Wild’s turn to spill some beans. Not even Legend. But how could he stay silent after Legend told something so personal and sad? It’s not fair, even if he’s the only one who thinks so.

He bites the arrow and takes a breath.

“I don’t have magic. I have… blessings. From friends I had before the Calamity.”

For the second time that night, eight pairs of eyes fall onto him.

“I don’t use them much anymore,” Wild continues; somehow his hands have made it to his lap anyways, knitting his fingers together like string on needles, “they gave me everything they had so I could defeat Calamity Ganon. Now that he’s gone, I don’t want to abuse their gifts any longer.”

“I don’t mean to pry…” Four says, “but maybe they gave you everything they had to help you. Maybe they didn’t consider it abuse.”

And somehow, Wild doesn’t feel like Four is prying at all. In fact, it startles a chuckle out of him. “Maybe. But not Revali, that’s for sure. He and I got along worse than Vet and Cap.”

“Not an easy feat,” Warriors says to the others while nudging Legend with his elbow. Legend rolls his eyes. “I’m impressed.”

“What blessing did he give you?” Wild asks. There’s stars in his eyes that always get there when he gets too interested in a story. Though, Wild supposes any story involving a rival-ship greater than their very own Legend and Warriors is something to be interested in.

“It was the power to call upon the gusts of wind he used to command with his powerful wings. He was a Rito, the best there ever was. He could fly into the air without having to jump off of ledges. The wind would carry him up itself, like it belonged to him.”

-o-o-o-o-

Agony is a poison pulsing through Hyrule’s leg. The fall had been great, and it’s a miracle Wild had been there to dive down and at least try to lesson the fall with his paraglider. The ground was weak in these desert-y canyons, and maybe Hyrule shouldn’t have gotten so close to the ledge to warrant his boot’s slipping, but at least Wild was there.

Hyrule’s ankle is broken, or at least badly sprained. Either way, it’s painful enough that he can’t even stand up as Wild paces the bottom of the crevasse they have found themselves in like a pair of cornered animals. The others… they’re close to an hour’s worth of time away. He and Wild were exploring and gathering whatever they could find that might be used as firewood as the sun began to set. It’s been a terribly awful day of traveling in the desert heat, and he and Wild were excited to experience the sunset’s breeze while the others set up camp.

They got too excited. Too far away. There’s no way anyone will hear them if they call. No one will come looking until the sky is black.

And who knows, maybe they won't consider that maybe they fell. Maybe, if they come looking, they won't look down the right scar in the land, and they will burn to death in tomorrow's sun.

“What do we do?” Hyrule asks through an embarrassingly choked voice. He’s been fighting tears since the moment his ankle bent wrongly in their crash landing. He knows Wild will not judge him for sobs, but it doesn’t make it any easier for him to allow any to escape.

Wild sighs and glares up at the lip of the cliff they’ve fallen from. “Any trinkets?” he asks back.

Hyrule bites his lip. He wishes he were like the others and had a trinket for every situation. Legend had promised to give him an old grappling hook he had hoarded away the next time they end up at his and Ravio’s place. “No.”

“Okay,” Wild says. Not angrily. “Okay.”

Determined?

“Champ?”

Wild takes a deep breath and looks down at Hyrule with… fire in his eyes. “I won’t be long. Will you be okay while I fetch the others?”

Hyrule licks his lips and looks down at his leg, already braced with brush twigs and the wrappings that usually decorate Wild’s arms. A cold breeze blows suddenly, making Hyrule shiver and remember the desert only takes what it’s given when it comes to heat. When the sun’s up, it thrives, and when it’s gone…

“Don’t take long,” he replies, even though he doesn’t really know what Wild’s about to do.

Wild nods, shrugging off the cloak he usually always wears and gives it to Hyrule. Hyrule nods his thanks and takes the warm accessory, placing it over his head and wrapping the caped section around his shoulders.

He watches as Wild walks towards the edge of the cliff facing where the others are with camp. Hyrule wonders what he’s about to do as he clings to the edge of the cloak. Wild unfolds his paraglider from his back, baffling Hyrule even more, and widens his stance.

A moment passes. Then another.

Then a gust of wind appears seemingly out from the floor, powerful enough to blow dust back and almost get in Hyrule’s eye if he hadn’t instinctively covered his eyes. There’s a flash of teal through his fingers… then an unfamiliar voice snorts.

“About time, runt.”

By the time Hyrule deems it safe enough to uncover his eyes without getting dust in them, Wild is already high in the air. The miracle gust of wind cyclones in the spot his friend used to be, growing weaker and weaker by the second before it’s gone completely. There’s no sign of whoever made that flash of teal… nor who spoke, but Hyrule doesn’t think too into it as Wild drops his paraglider and grabs onto the upper ledge of the cliff.

Far above him, Wild climbs to safety and looks over the edge. He waves, and Hyrule cannot help the giggle that climbs through his throat as he waves back.

Pain in his ankle be damned, whatever Wild just did was cool, and as Wild turns and runs towards the others he knows he won't be in pain for long.

Not much longer than an hour passes before the others come with their ropes and grappling hooks and worried voices. Wild glides down to him to help carry him up. There’s something about the way he stands that gives Hyrule the feeling that he… realized something today. He gives Hyrule a bottle of health, then helps tie a rope around his waist as his ankle begins to hurt a little less.

As he’s lifted off the ground towards the top of the cliff by his friends, he looks at Wild who is clinging tight to Hyrule’s body like a stronger lifeline than any rope or chain.

“Was that Revali?” He asks, without really thinking.

Wild looks at him with wide eyes, and then a wider smile. “Yeah.”

Hyrule smiles back. “He sounded like an asshole.”

A startled laugh bursts from Wild’s mouth as he throws his head back. “He is an asshole,” he agrees in good nature.

They reach the top. They reach the others. Twilight scolds their ears off the entire way back towards camp, and Hyrule can't stop grinning for his own safety… and for whatever mended in Wild’s heart tonight.

-o-o-o-o-

“What about the others?”

“Well… ah… there’s Daruk. He was one of my oldest friends. The strongest Goron there ever was, though he was a little fearful of dogs.” Wild laughs, as do the others politely; probably imagining the biggest Goron they could be scared of a small fluffy animal. “He had the strength to block anything, and he was always ready to take a blow for the team. Even after… even after… he still protected me. He gave me the ability to call upon even a fraction of that power, that way nothing could hurt me in case my own shield failed. Without him… I would not be here, I’m confident in that.”

-o-o-o-o-

They honestly should have expected an ambush before Warriors was the one to call it out. Four likes to consider himself lucky for coming from a comparatively peaceful time, relatively speaking, but even he should have expected the top of the hill to be lined with determined monsters with big rocks.

The first few moments of watching the boulders come down feels almost like Four is stuck in time. There’s nowhere to run, the expanse of the monsters at the top is too great. Left or right would bring more chances of being hit. They can’t run back down the hill and outrun the danger either. Their only option is to dodge through the rocks until they can get to the top and take out the danger.

Distantly, as time spreads up, Four is aware of Time and Wild each releasing arrows towards the top of the hill, igniting various monsters on fire, but soon it becomes pure chaos. He can only focus on himself as he does his best to jump out of the way of rocks that are much bigger than him. The colors in his brain scream as he tries to remain calm and collected. No Blue, he can’t just jump over the boulders because it will look cool. Red please calm down you’re screaming too loudly. He knows to go left, Green!

It’s a miracle he’s managed to last this long with the confusion. Which is why he’s not surprised when something finally hits its mark. He’s just glad that when the agony of a shattered bone shoots through his body, it’s only his right shoulder that took the brunt of the hit.

Not that he has time to be thankful for that. After the boulder hits into his side, his balance is knocked right out of him. He ends up crashing to the tilted floor in a jumble of limbs and dust. There’s tears in his eyes, and he can barely focus enough to lift himself back up. His entire arm feels like he’s stuck it into the mouth of a dragon—teeth and all. His chest feels tight and his hip all bruised. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken a few ribs as well.

He barely has enough time to look ahead of him from where he lies on the ground. There’s another boulder bouncing right towards him. If… if he doesn’t move now… he will surely die.

But he cannot move. He cannot move because his entire side hurts too badly for him to go at a speed that matters. He closes his eyes and tries to make himself smaller. Maybe, if the goddess decides she likes him today, she will allow the boulder to bounce over him… or something as unlikely.

Either way, he accepts whatever fate he’s about to meet, even as he hears Sky scream his name.

And maybe it’s because he’s a coward and he’s scared, but he opens his eyes to look at his approaching doom. Only… that’s not all that he sees. What he sees is Wild jump out right in front of him with a ball of orange energy surrounding his entire body. A surge of horror swells inside of his belly the moment he sees this. Is Wild serious?!

Then, a heartbeat passes, and the boulder rams right into Wild. What happens next, though, Four would never have guessed. The orange energy explodes in shatters around him. Standing over Wild, however, is a ghostly Goron that’s bigger than anything Four’s ever seen. He shouts as the boulder stops in its tracks, crumbling before his mighty fists.

“I got you, little buddy,” Daruk’s spirit says. Then, the teal spirit disappears with the orange energy, leaving Wild standing there with the shattered remains of the boulder at his feet. Up the hill, Warriors, Legend, Time, and Sky take out the remaining monsters before they can release any more rocks.

Wild turns towards Four with a crazed, adrenaline fueled gaze. There’s a grin on his face though, one that Four finds himself matching.

Next thing he knows, Twilight, Hyrule, and Wild are rushing to his form and shoving various medicine bottles into his face; of which he takes gratefully.

“Thank you, Wild,” Four makes sure to say once he’s finally back on his feet with a makeshift sling over his only slightly aching arm. Wild turns towards him to give a blushing smile. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

“I couldn’t just watch you die. It’s the least I could do.”

Four hums. “I’m still thankful. Though… your Goron friend looked big enough to squish me between his fingers.”

Wild grins. “Daruk wouldn’t do that. It’s his hugs you have to watch out for.”

Four’s sure that if Daruk’s hugs are anything like Wild’s, then those hugs would be very tight indeed.

“I will take your word for it, then.”

-o-o-o-o-

“And then there’s Urbosa. She… if you think you’ve met a scary Gerudo, then you haven’t met her.” Wild waves his hands in the air, only slightly aware that he’s getting too invested in this story now. He didn't mean to spill his guts on his past friends tonight, but here he is, living their memory. Passing on their stories to his new friends. He finds he doesn’t mind it as much as he did several minutes ago. He doesn’t know why he was afraid. “She was the leader of her people, and she could summon lightning onto anyone who's ever defied her. She fought armies of Yiga all on her own and came out without a scratch. She’s blessed me with the ability to summon lighting as well. It’s my most powerful attack, and it’s saved my ass more times than I can count.”

-o-o-o-o-

This is bad. Very bad. Time can’t even properly express how bad this is.

An ambush of monsters? That’s manageable. He has confidence in himself and his companions to be able to handle a meager ambush. However, this? This is a whole army of monsters. Lizalfos, apparently, like to group up in camps when they’re not scrambling around in ancient dungeons and temples.

There’s enough to outnumber the heroes five-to-one. It’s not impossible to take them down if they had stuck to the outer edges of the camp and took a good portion of them out with long ranged attacks… however what happened was much less graceful. They walked into the forest, intending to make a camp for the night, just to wander right into a community of Lizalfos armed to the tails.

So now? They’re running; the monsters in an excited chase. Like Time said: This. Is. Bad.

“We lead them to the river,” Warriors suggests, ever thinking of solutions. “We can push them in and weaken their numbers.”

“I say we turn and fight!” Wind shouts. He looks too excited. He pulls a bomb out from his satchel and before Time can say anything, the boy turns around and throws it at their pursuers. There’s a blast, a few screeches, but nothing significant happens. The numbers are too great. Wind is pulling out another bomb.

“The river,” Time says, nodding at Warriors. Wind cheers as another explosion erupts. He leaves the boy to it. As long as he keeps up. “It’s the best bet.”

Time turns his head to tell the others about the makeshift plan, but before he can say a thing Wild looks him straight in the eye. “Have everyone get as far as you can away, I know what to do.”

“What?” Time asks, baffled.

Wild doesn’t explain. He just turns heel and runs the other way towards the enemy.

“Cub?!” Twilight shouts, turning around as well to grab his wayward protégé, but Time grabs his shoulder and keeps him running in the opposite direction. Twilight gives him a panicked look.

“I don’t know what he plans,” Time explains, “but he seems confident. Trust him.”

Twilight swallows and nods. Time shouts at the others to pick up the pace.

Behind him, the Lizalfos screech in delight, a sign they and Wild have now met face-to-face.

Whatever you’re about to do, wild one, do it now.

He doesn’t have to wait long. The smell of ozone becomes intoxicating all within a heartbeat. The hairs at the back of his neck rise as the sky goes impossibly dark for the time of dusk that it is. Then, light flashes all around him in thunderous claps. He can barely hear the sound of screaming monsters over the bolts. Time can’t help but stop in his tracks and turn, lifting a hand above his brow to see green lighting like he’s never seen before attacking the earth through the trees.

As soon as it begins, it ends, and the sky brightens with silence.

Time doesn’t waste time running forward. What he finds when he runs towards the small clearing Wild had met the monsters in is something he will never forget. Static energy seems to curl around his hand, raised into the air and on the end of a snap. Beside him stands a tall Gerudo woman, cloaked in a ghostly aura, her back towards the others and her hand on Wild’s shoulder in triumph and fierce protection. There’s nothing but black, charred corpses of monsters around them.

Time watches, as do the others, transfixed as Urbosa looks down at Wild and smirks.

“You should have called earlier, my desert flower.”

-o-o-o-o-

Everyone looks so transfixed, that Wild almost moves on without really thinking about it. Only… the words catch in his throat. He finishes telling of Urbosa, and just… freezes. His hands are back in his lap, wringing each other out.

He was so engrossed with his own stories that he’s forgotten that while he loves each of his past friends equally… not all are so easy to talk about.

The others must sense his inner struggle, as none of them call out his sudden silence. He knows that if he decided to stop now and not tell them of his last blessing… they would not argue. They must know this pause is similar to when Twilight stops talking about his adventure when he reaches the point where he meets a mysterious companion. Similar to when Time pauses in his magical tales of his childhood. Similar to when Sky looks off in the distance with his voice trailing off as he tells of special places in the sky.

It’s a pause of loss. A pause of something cherished. A pause of something that you fought so hard for, but will never come back.

A hand falls on top of his own. He recognizes the shape of Twilight’s calluses without having to look up at him. “You do not have to force yourself to continue,” he says.

Wild shakes his head. “I’m alright. I can continue…”

A beat of silence. Wild takes a breath.

“Last is… Mipha. Not only was she the most beautiful Zora I’ve ever met, but also the most beautiful soul. She… would always be there for me… whenever I got hurt. She could heal my wounds better than any potion. I…” his throat bobs, the words are no longer coming. “I cannot bring myself to tell of her gift. It’s too special. I pray I never have to use it again, nor must any of you witness it.”

-o-o-o-o-

Twilight didn’t know what to think when the attack had begun. It didn’t start with a shout. It didn’t start with the enemy running screaming out from the shadows of the trees with swords raised. It didn’t start like any kind of monster attack that Twilight had grown so used to.

It’s probably why they were unprepared for an attack by something smarter than monsters. Something that has no problem sitting quietly in the trees, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He’s heard that there’s a group of former Sheikah in Wild’s world who have it in for the hero’s life, he just never really expected to meet them.

That’s probably why the arrow met it’s mark too. They’ve all grown accustomed to the sloppy ambushes put together by monsters. It’s the only thing Twilight can think of to justify how none of them saw it coming until there was a thwip of a feathered arrow flying through the air… and landing with a thunk in Wild’s stomach.

Wild fell to the ground, and with a flash of cards and light appeared several Yiga Clan members. Nobody stopped to stare. It was pure rage from the heroes at that point, and as soon as it began the Clan members all put their hands together and retreated into seemingly thin air. It all ended about as soon as it began.

And the only thing he could think about now is Wild laying there on the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. The arrow still sticks out of his midsection, undoubtedly having hit something important judging by the trail of red going down the corners of his mouth.

Twilight is the first to run up to his side, but thanks to the quick thinking of Warriors, he’s not the first to offer a way of healing.

However, by the time the bottle of the red potion reaches his life stained lips… it’s too late. Twilight can only stare in horror as the light leaves Wild’s eyes.

The Yiga Clan… they’ve succeeded… and everyone knows it when Warriors falls backwards in defeat to sit on his heels, looking down at the full bottle of healing in his hands. Sky falls to his knees. Hyrule chokes a cry. Twilight's sure the rest of them are feeling their own reactions of grief, but he can no longer pay attention to anything but his own.

He’s… he’s failed. The one person he swore he would protect… pass on his ways… his stories… his teachings… it’s all for nothing. All it is now is a gaping hole in his heart. His cheeks are wet with tears that came too quickly.

Suddenly, something happens. There’s a flash of teal, and somewhere behind him someone gasps. Twilight can only watch with wide, tear-drowned eyes, as the teal swirls around into the glowing form of a beautiful Zora.

All eyes are on her, but hers are on Wild. There’s a fondness to her face that could be mistaken for sadness. Her hand brushes his cheek, and to Twilight's surprise Wild blinks and breathes in a soft breath. The hole in his stomach glows bright blue… and the arrow dissipates in shining bubbles.

“I will always heal you when you need me, my love.”

Then, she’s gone before anyone, including Wild, can respond.

Wild slowly raises himself to his elbows, blinking and smiling sheepishly like he’s never gotten even a scratch.

“I’m sorry you all had to-” he begins, but Twilight cuts him off by launching himself forward and wrapping the idiot in his arms. Mipha’s gift, the one he wouldn’t tell them about because it was too special, the one he never wanted them to witness…

He’s such an idiot.

“Shut up,” Twilight says through a tight breath. “Thank the spirits… just let me hold you.”

Wild doesn’t say anything, he just returns the embrace and the hold just as tightly.

Thank Hylia and all of the goddesses for this miracle. Wild clearly has friends that care so much about him that they would protect him fiercely even after their deaths. Twilight knows that from now on, he will spend his nights praying thankfulness to them. Wild is a formidable hero, one of the best in fact, yet Twilight can only imagine where he would be without these gifts. Imagining it makes his gut twist, however, so he squeezes his hold just once before letting go.

He smiles at the younger boy, and Wild smiles back, everything that needs to be said being translated there alone. You scared me. I’m sorry. Don’t apologize, just be more careful. No promises… but I will try.

The wordless conversation passes between them in a moment, and the moment is broken by Wind pouncing onto Wild. Wild, the poor boy, is shoved straight onto his back from the force of the tackle, yet he’s laughing as Wind calls him an idiot over and over. Everyone else gathers as well, to tell him they’re glad he’s alive in their own ways. Time places a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and shares a knowing look.

“Let’s set up camp early tonight,” he says, and Twilight cannot help but agree.

As Time announces the plan to the others, separating the others and telling them to give Wild some space, Twilight lets his heart calm. Wild always says he was alone in his adventures, but now he knows that that wasn’t all true. He also knows now why Wild doesn’t abuse the abilities his friends gave him.

With a silent vow, he promises Revali, Daruk, Urbosa, and Mipha that he will work harder to protect their boy. For now, Wild has been barred from making dinner tonight, and Twilight has to be sure that Hyrule gets nowhere near the cooking pot.

[fanartfunart]

[Image ID: 3 lineart drawings of Revali from Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild with different types of wing/grips. In the first Revali is standing, waving a clawed and feathered human-style hand that blends into a full wing at the elbow. It is labeled “Combo OG Rito + BOTW. Human Hands + Wing “Sleeve”” and “Must be awk. to fly...” Next to the drawing is a diagram of the arm/wing bone structure, which uses the human forearm and hand bones and an added bone for the wing. It is labeled “bones????” The second just uses a regular bird’s wings and Revali is using his talons to draw his bow mid-flight. It is labeled “Just birb. (use talons) No drawbacks TBH” In the third Revali is mid-flight from the side, his wings have 3 claws on the ‘wrist’ of the wing two for fingers and one for a thumb. He’s holding his bow in one hand. It’s labeled “Dino Claw! Still awk. flying.” End ID]

Some Revali variations as I troubleshoot how to Not use the canon Hand-Feathers. (pet peeve, sorry. lol) I think I’ll prefer my Just Birb option, but tbh the OG Rito/BOTW idea is growing on me.

Bonus: (terrible rejected idea that is basically what I imagine when I see Hand-Feathers. :P)

[Image ID: Lineart of Revali from the side-view holding out one wing. At the end of the wing has 3 feathered, overlong fingers and a clawed ‘thumb’. It’s labeled “Feathered Bat-Wing Hands (Horrifying)” End ID]

[violetsareblue-selfships]

Feeling tired and vaguely headache-y, so I'm gonna share my headcanons on how my zelda f/os would care for me if i had a headache :3

Link would pull me away from other people if he can so that he could quietly take care of me. If we're in a situation where he can't, he'll wrap an arm around me and let me tuck my head into the crook of his neck until we're able to leave.

Zelda would request that anyone in the room speak quieter to disturb me less. If she can, she'll call for a break from whatever meeting it is to take me to her room and get me comfortable before returning. If she can't, she'll hold my hand under the table and have a staff member get me some water/a snack.

Sheik can tell the instant I have a headache (knows all my tells for it). If he can, he'll escort me out of the room and to a quiet location, bringing me water or food -- whatever I need. If he can't, he'll use some of his magic to muffle the room's loudness for me, listening carefully in case he has to later relay any information to me.

Dark will (quietly so as to not make the headache worse) snap at everyone around us to be quiet if they're being particularly loud. He'll pull me into his arms if he can and let me bury my face in his chest, paying more attention to whatever meeting it is than usual so he can tell me what I need to know later.

For Urbosa: If we're in Gerudo Town, she'll escort me to her room no matter what situation we're in and make sure I'm comfortable before going back to the meeting/whatever it was. If we're not, she'll settle me in her lap and run her fingers through my hair while requesting that everyone keep their voices down. If someone gets too loud, she'll shoot a warning glance over at them, making sure it didn't bother me too much.

Midna will call the whole meeting off if she can so that she can take care of me until I feel better. If we're not in a meeting, she'll take me somewhere quiet to sing to me and care for me. If she can't call it off, she will not hesitate to make the advisors/whoever be quieter. They're not hurting me on her watch.

Mipha would do as she does best and set her hand on my forehead/top of my head (depending on the headache's location) and use her magic to heal it or ease the pain. Usually that works. If not, she'll take me swimming if it's when we're not busy. But if we are busy, she'll occasionally use her magic to keep it from being too unbearable.

Ghirahim will drop literally everything when he finds out I'm in the slightest bit of pain. He'll teleport us to a quieter location and dote on me until I feel better -- doing anything I request of him (singing, water, food, etc.) If he's doing tasks for Demise, he'll teleport us away and then return once I'm in a quieter location, and he'll return as soon as he's able.

Malon will get me water and some kind of pastry whenever I have a headache and will take me to her room, turning off all the lights (or torches depending on the au) and blocking out the windows, letting me rest in there until I feel better. She'll have to return to work, of course, but will periodically check on me. if it's not that bad of a headache, I might spend some time with the horses, especially the gentler ones.

Impa's whole thing is caretaking so she's a master at it. If I have a headache, she usually has a potion or something that'll fix it immediately already on her person. If she doesn't, she'll comfort me and/or take care of me until she can leave to get/make such a potion. Headaches don't last long under her watch.

Revali becomes a very concerned & protective bird. Normally, he'd tease me but headaches are a bit more serious and he doesn't want to cause unnecessary pain. If we're in Rito Village or not busy, he'll take me for a flight or to a quiet location to care for me away from prying eyes. If we're busy (champion meeting or w/e), he'll wrap a wing snugly around me and pull me close so I can bury my face in his feathers. He'll fluff up the wing and shield me from any outside sound and light.

Sidon goes into immediate caretaker mode the second I comment on a headache. He will also take me swimming like Mipha, but if I'm not up for being the active swimmer, I can ride on his back through the water. It's that or he'll have a warm bath set up for me. He will get me anything I need in order to make me feel better.

(is it obvious I already had these prepared - i like reading over them whenever i get a headache as it helps distract from the pain ^^)

[thealluringsink]

What if rito made sense Here’s Teba with the 6 meter wingspan he deserves. I gave him hands where birds would have ‘fingers,’ although the shortest finger is not useful in shooting. Related head canon: rito warriors are famous for mid flight archery but most shoot with their feet. The best of the best strive to be like Revali, who shot with his wings while flying because he was that extra.

[zeldahijinks]

Hi I'm really glad the requests are open again, is it possible to do a scenario of revali in a soulmate au. Please and Thank you. By the way, I really love the stuff you do have a nice day :)

[A/N: efhskbebobdvk thank youuuu, and sorry it’s so long! I was really inspired!!]

Soulmate AU

You had been traveling between villages for a few weeks selling merchandise and the likes, but today was going to be a relax day. You had been taking your time to walk the farmer’s market admiring all the different jewelry and large vegetables, and stop occasionally to look over precious stones. 

You weren’t sure why you chose to come today, but you paid no mind and tried to enjoy nonetheless. However…there was a strange inkling that wouldn’t leave you alone and you occupied yourself in merchandise that wasn’t even interesting to you, but for some reason you felt you needed to stay.

 When you came to a vendor, their spread was out of place from the others. This one had shrunken heads, bird skeletons in cages, and different pots filled with different ingredients. The smell was overpowering, but for some reason you decided to look within the stall.

 Further into their makeshift tent, books lined the walls on rickety shelves. You ran your fingers over the spines of the books noticing none of them had any titles. You found it odd how some look brand new while others looked worn and well read.  Not a one matched, but some had similar spine decor.

 You were about to walk to another shelf when one book caught your eye. It was a deep navy blue, with a red and white spine. You traced over the intricate impressions in the cover and mused to yourself that the material felt soft as feathers. Gently picking it up you looked it over and like all the other books it did not have titled, nor an author. When you opened it, your confusion only increased as you flipped through all the pages. There was not a single word nor picture in it.

 Strange, you thought, and went to pick up another book only to find you couldn’t. You set the book you were holding down and used both hands on the other to take it off the shelf. It would not budge for the life of you, it was like it was glued to the spot.

 “You can try all you want, but you are not the owner of that book.”

 You spun around from the sudden grainy voice, and the shopkeeper was hunched over at the entrance. They gave you a wrinkly smile as their hand shook to hold up one finger. They pointed to the book behind you, “That is your book.”

 You raised a brow before looking between them and the object, “…And why is that?”

 They hobbled in using their cane and walked by you all the while speaking, “Do you plan to take responsibility of each and every book?”

 “Well…no.”

 “Then you do not need to know anything more than that.” They ran their crooked fingers over the blue book. “Why did you come here today, young one?”

 You were taken back, not sure where this was leading, “I had the day off, I suppose.”

 “You do not sound sure.”

 “Erm…I am not sure what I would need to be certain of.”

 They gave a slow smile, their jaw jittering along with their body. “Take the book.”

 “Wha-, well, I don’t know if I want it. It’s just a journal.”

 “Is it now?”

 Their question fluttered around your head like a bird in a cage, and it left a deep curiosity that began to slowly burn. You weren’t even aware, but you had picked up the book, running your fingers against the soft cover. Gazing upon this hardcover it gave you a familiar feeling, and you looked up, “How much will it b-”  

 The old person was not there and the makeshift tent you were in was gone. 

You looked around with wide eyes to realize you were in the middle of the farmer’s market still. Taking a step back, the shop you once were in, now you stood on a patch of dirt. You held the book closely to your chest and you decided that you were done looking around for the day.

 Finally home and in your bed, you were reading a book under the lantern’s light, but you weren’t able to keep focus. Your eyes would wander to the journal on your nightstand, its existence proving to be loud and obnoxious. You sighed and leaned over to grab it to pull it back in your lap. As you flipped through the pages again you were scolding yourself that there was nothing there. You ran your hand along your head in frustration, and left it open at a blank page.

 “What’s so special about you?” But the book did not answer your heated question. You leaned back against your headboard feeling like giving up, and blankly stared at the page of the book. You ran your finger along it as if reading a sentence, but you began to squint your eyes.

 Was there….something forming on the page?

 Upon closer inspection, an image slowly bled its way in. An image emerged overlooking mountains high in the night sky while clouds slowly made their way across the horizon and leaves rustled from the winds. You were in awe and amazed from the slow motion image, and you rubbed your eyes thinking you were seeing things.

 But you weren’t.

 Though you were terrified of this strange phenomenon, each night you open the book to find it had new paintings of different scenery and sometimes people. You gather that whoever this was, is a Rito given one photo had their arm stretched out with a large bow held by their wings. It was like a drug you couldn’t wean yourself off of and you anxiously await the night to fall asleep to these images.

 The Rito was apparently close to the Princess as there was one image of her with a young blond man kneeling in front of her. You gathered that these images were memories, and whether they were current or from the past, you could not decipher. You were becoming fond of whoever this Rito was and adored they images from their point of view in the sky.

 One night while admiring the old paintings something new happened. A new image bled onto the page, this time of the Rito’s wings held in front of them as if they had committed a heinous act. Their hands shook and looked pain..

 ‘I feel so alone.’

 It read underneath the painting causing a sharp pain to shoot through your body. You ran your fingers along the image as if they could feel your comfort. “What’s wrong..?” You whispered and your heart felt heavy as the book did not reply…

 ‘They doubt me.’

 ‘Why him? Am I not good enough?’

 ‘I have worked so hard. I do not understand.’

 ‘I am afraid…’

 Each night new paintings appeared with a text underneath, and they grew more desperate. Their images were becoming distorted and began to come in like melting strip of film. The more the weeks dragged on it spurred you to try to connect to this Rito that was a complete stranger. You whispered encouragements you knew they could not hear and brought the book with you everywhere as if it was a way for them not to be alone.

 You were sitting on a rock somewhere in the Great Plateau flipping through the pages again. It was like watching a timeline of a sound person slowly coming undone. Some days this Rito would have wonderful and beautiful days, and others…they were wallowing in self hate. You sighed coming to an empty page, “I wish I could help you….”

 As if the book heard you plea a new painting came and what you saw made your jaw drop. It was you, clearly blurry and more of your lap than anything, but it was your clothes being swept in the gentle wind.  Beneath it, words appeared..

 ‘Who is this? Why is this person in this book?’

 Frantically, you scrabbled about looking for your travel sack and rummage through to find a quill. However, before you could attempt to write a reply in a silly hope they would receive it, a new image appeared, but this time of your hands holding the book.

 ‘Their book almost looks similar to my own.’

 And you gasped, feeling excitement course through your veins. You stood up holding the book out in front of you, “Yes! Yes! It’s because they’re connected! Oh please! Tell me you can hear me?! Sense me?! Something?!” But there was no reply, however, it spurred a intense feeling of determination. They had a book that was in connection to this one, and you knew that somehow they would be able to see your memories.

 With a burst of energy, you bound for the Rito village across the land and you hoped that they could see what you see. Maybe they would realize you were on your way and your heart rammed in your chest from fear and excitement. You had no idea what these books meant to either of you, but somehow you know it was the fate of the Goddess that you two should meet.

 When night fell, you sat by your small campfire for warmth and held the book in your lap while patiently waiting for a new image. It seemed like hours before a new painting emerge and this time it was them soaring in the nighttime sky. You held your hand to your mouth in astonishment at the words appearing before you.

 ‘Are you still waiting?’

 “Yes!” You said in excitement, beaming at this wondrous phenomenon. You could only wonder what images along with words appeared for them and you looked up to the sky in great anticipation. “Oh please, oh please. I’ve been waiting so long.” You whispered to the sky and bounce from your spot on the ground. It was exhilarating, it was magical, nothing in this world could top this! You could hardly sit still and stood up to turn in a circle looking at the sky. You closed your eyes and pressed the book tightly to your chest. “I don’t know how this works, but please come soon.”

 An hour or so passed and you were still wide awake. Nothing new appeared in the book and you were becoming impatient. Slowly, and surely, you heard loud flaps in the distance and right as you turned around a gush of wind blew harshly causing you to shut your eyes from the flying dirt. As you blinked away, your vision gazed at the feet of a Rito and followed it up to their face. For a Rito, he looked quite handsome and within his wing was a book with your colors but matching spine decor.

 He looked a little smug as he looked you over and quirked a feather brow up. He noticed the book in your hands and held his up, “Seems we might become reading partners. Shall we open a book club?”

 You snorted and shook your head at his jest, but the excitement bubbling within you was about to burst. “Strange book club with only two members.” You took a step closer and tried to ignore the awe you felt at his height.

 His beak quirked in a smile as he too took a step closer, “Well, they do say three’s a crowd.”

 “I’ve been anxiously waiting to meet you.” You spoke in a hush voice, finding the air within you disappearing, but it was not unpleasant. He gave another cocky smile and pulled up a page from his book, it was of your point of view looking up to the sky with the captions underneath, ‘I’ve been waiting so long.’ 

You could feel your cheeks burn and gave a sheepish laugh.

 “I am Revali.” He spoke surely, but gently. 

 “I…” You laughed and smiled, “I’m [Name]…” You placed your hand on top of his book and he looked at you curiously as your eyes glimmered with your deeper emotions, “And I will make sure you never feel alone again.”

[punishandenslavesuckers]

She has no throne. Girls without thrones should not have knights, but hers won’t go. Princess Zelda – the girl who killed Calamity – would love to fade into legend, but Link’s bought a house, he’s fighting off monsters, and he’s selling giant horses to strangely familiar Gerudo men. She’ll never have any peace now. (ao3)  

(chapter one) (chapter two) (chapter three) (chapter four) (chapter five)

They depart the Rito Village – albeit with some apologies for the structural damage to several rooms – and some notion of heading south toward Tabantha where, as Link promised, there was the possibility of dragons. They’re almost a mile along when a shadow cuts a swift but massive path across the road before them. They look up just in time to catch the sudden, high-speed intercession of a mostly recovered Mishi. He lands with a massive backdraft directly in front of Zelda’s horse, hitting the ground hard enough to kick up dust and mini cyclones. Luckily Maru is long accustomed to bizarre happenings and barely nickers even when a giant bird person appears from the sky. She just stops and snorts, offended.

“Wait!” Mishi says. He’s breathless, frazzled. “I didn’t want to miss you!”

Zelda, thrilled, dismounts to meet him in the road. “Mishi! You’re looking much better!”

The color in his plumage is brilliantly dark and glossy now, his eyes bright, feathers ruffled with emotion. Standing directly in front of her, he’s about half a head taller than her, wearing Rito archery gear, a breast-plate engraved with his clan crest, and a massive long bow clipped to his spine. Above them, the sun’s begun to track across the morning sky and – for a moment – Zelda feels herself pulled by anachronism. She’s been on this road before. Stood like this before. Facing a man like this before wearing armor like that before.

Zelda can feel Link behind her, waiting.

 She roots herself in the present. Mishi, not Revali, touches her forearms lightly, cupping them in the massive curl of his wings

“I couldn’t let you leave without thanking you.”

“No thanks necessary. Just… stay away from the eastern wind temple. There’s old magic there and that’s probably what..” She swallows. “I’m very glad you’re doing better, you know. We were worried.”

“Thanks,” he says. He reaches up and un-snaps a cord from his neck – a feather and stone pendent, a white arrow-head affixed with thin blue-black plumes. He carefully places it in her palm. “Carry that with you, priestess. On my family’s behalf. If you ever need help, you’ll have it from me and all my clan. You and your allies.”

Then, quite before she can do anything except stammer, Mishi puts both wings over her shoulders – warm, dark, and heavy.

“I won’t forget it, Zelda.”

He, gently, bumps his forehead against hers. Then he steps back… and takes off, straight up, launching skyward with such force the gale he leaves in his wake kicks up a spiral of wind – tearing her hair up into a weightless whirl as Zelda stands, laughing, shielding her eyes from the sun to watch Mishi rocket through the atmosphere. He cuts a sharp arc toward the mountains, tearing away on an unstoppable trajectory beyond the foothills and into the highlands. She presses her fingers, curled around the totem, to the smile on her lips and for a moment she lives in that rising heat, like warm waters on a tide, rising within her.

Then she ties it around her neck and mounts up again.

Link signs, ‘He’s fast.’

“Just like Revali,” she agrees. Then she blinks, hard, beset suddenly by a heat of tears. She clears her throat. “Draga’s upset with us.” She nods to the shrinking silhouette in the distance, largish and moving at a fast canter. “He hasn’t done that since the mask incident. He didn’t even want to talk about looking for dragons in Tabantha and that—” she makes a face – “is probably a bad.”

Link signs, ‘You think it’s because I punched him?’

She shoots him a look. “Don’t be smart. Why did you do that, anyway?”

He shrugs.

“Do you ever think about what you do?”

He shrugs again, more deeply.

Zelda shakes her head. “I think, before, you tried much harder to hide that kind of thing from me.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Not really. I wasn’t this reckless before.”

She blinks.

Link’s still watching the road. Zelda studies his face, but his expression is neutral and unconcerned. He pats Epona fondly and fishes for something in his shoulder satchel. She waits. Oh. He’s eating a snack. That… that was it. He just said that and now he’s back to riding. Zelda tries to look less worried while her former knight escort chews on a bit of dried apricot and hums to himself, content to set a steady pace beneath the cold morning sun. He’s wearing his hood up, lazy, letting Epona pick her own path down the road while he guides mindlessly with his knees. Zelda slowly looks away so she can frown privately at the back of Maru’s ears.

Eventually, Link takes not of her silence. She hears a short whistle. When she looks up, Link’s arching a brow at her like he’s been trying to get her attention for some time now. The sun’s moved in the sky. Draga is still pacing about a quarter mile ahead of them, so he’s still mad.

Link’s face asks before his hands. ‘What’s wrong?’

“What did you mean when you say you aren’t as reckless as you were one-hundred years ago?”

He gives her a funny look.

‘I meant what I said,’ he signs.

“Yes, but…” She stops.

It’s a clear day, but the Hebra cold leaves breath visible. There’s a thin layer of snow on the foothills not far above them. Link’s still staring at her, cheeks red, brow drawn down, half a question on his lips that never quite becomes. Then, slowly, a dawning blankness moves into his face and sets fine lines of dread across the interior of Zelda’s lungs.

Then Link just faces forward again and says nothing.

Epona tosses her head a little so he leans forward to run his hand across her neck and Zelda makes a detailed study of Link’s hand as he smooths it over Epona’s downy hide. At some point, Link let a stable girl to braid her mane into a loose series of rows and knots that allowed her to thread several bouquets worth of mountain flowers into it – trapper bells, apple bloom, and violets mixed with wisteria. They’ll wither by the end of the day, Zelda knows. He’ll have to comb and pick the dead plants from Epona’s mane and she thinks of him one-hundred years ago – his old war horse, tacked for battle, meticulously groomed and saddled.

“Is that… silent princess?” she asks eventually, pointing at a flower behind Epona’s ear.

Link glances at her. He’s lowered his chin a little, so the lip of his hood shades his eyes. She has to watch his mouth to read anything from the way he nods instead of speaking. Zelda, carefully, leans from Maru’s saddle so she can lift the flower from Epona’s mane. Zelda sits back properly again. She spins the blossom between her fingers then, on a whim, she slides the stem behind her ear, arranging it into a fetching angle at her temple.

“There. How’s that look?” she demands, swiveling at the hips to face Link.

He gives her a very small smile and thumbs up.

“Useless. I’ll ask Draga.”

‘He’s still mad,’ Link signs looking a little offended. She can see his eyes now.

“I didn’t punch him. You did. And he got the best of you in that fight, by the way, I hope you don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“What? No, he didn’t.”

“Bye,” Zelda says, kicking Epona into a canter.

“Hey!”

They race to catch up with Draga and she loses the flower before they even get there.

  “Link, do you want to go back to Zora’s Domain?”

He glances at her.

The fire crackles, the scent of roasting fish rising warm from the small travel-sized skillet, the oils popping softly. They’re seated in the shade by a small creek near the road. Link is halfway through the motion pinching herb into the pan and he squints at her instead of giving it the attention it needs; he’s finicky about how things are salted or flavored. Damn. She should have waited until after lunch to ask that question. Ruining a meal with personal questions. She intended to ruin the afternoon generally with personal questions, but ruining food as well… that was just unnecessary.

“Sorry. Never mind.”

Link finishes sprinkling herb and dusts his hands on his pants. Then he turns to crouch facing her. Oh no. He’s giving her his full attention. Which isn’t to suggest he doesn’t usually, but rather that she wishes he wasn’t doing that right now because her question in retrospect seems presumptuous. Link folds his hands between his knees, his elbows on his thighs. Oh, Goddess. He’s giving her his full undivided attention. Link’s full undivided attention, among other things, has brought down giants.

Presently, it’s just making her deeply anxious.

“I only ask because… we’ve only been back the one time. Now that the shrines aren’t working, it takes so long to travel and I just wonder if you wanted to make some time to go there and…” She gives a helpless shrug. “Visit?”

Link thinks about it. Then signs, ‘Do you want to go there?’

“Well, it’s comforting you know.”

Link eyes her steadily then signs, ‘I’m fine.’

“I know Bazz and Gaddison have asked you to come around. Are you afraid they’re going to group hug you to death?”

“Terrified,” he says calmly.

“But, Link, all joking aside. Do we need go back?”

Link gives her a look.

Draga, who is no longer actively avoiding their physical presence, looks up from where he’s seated nearby – back against a log, reading a book. It’s much warmer now that they’ve dropped elevation but he’s still wearing full Snowquill gear and a scarf. This does nothing to detract from the vague sense of dangerous he exudes when he eyes them over the coils of said scarf.

“Zora’s Domain is on the other side of Hyrule. You know that, right? We could not be farther away, presently.”

Zelda glares back at him. “Yes. I know. I am aware.”

“Just checking.”

“I’m sorry, but don’t pick a fight with me just because you’re grumpy.”

“I’m not. I’m saying Zora’s Domain is far away.”

“Bravo. Geography. You know I was the Princess of this land once, right? I might know where things are located.”

Link, visibly uncomfortable, laughs nervously. “Can we not?”

Draga shuts his book. “Why do we need to go to Zora’s Domain?”

“Maybe that’s personal,” Zelda says, folding her arms. She lifts her chin slightly. “Maybe it’s none of your business.”

Draga looks at Link. “Why do we need to go to Zora’s Domain?”

The Hero of Hyrule, Hylia’s chosen hand, embodiment of the Light, glances quickly toward the creek like he’s wishing it were much deeper and he could throw himself into it to avoid this conversation. But he can’t and Draga’s sitting forward now, draping one arm over his knee, his book dangling between his fingers as he narrows his eyes. Draga’s right cheekbone is still bruised. He didn’t let Zelda heal him and seems to have used just enough first aid to close the cut there, but nothing else. Link still has a split lip and scraped knuckles.

“We don’t,” Link says.

“Zelda is making a face. I don’t believe you,” Draga counters.

Link glares at Zelda who wasn’t aware she was making any face whatsoever and tries to stop having a face immediately.

“I’m fine,” Link says.

“Why,” Draga drawls, “did you assume I thought there was something wrong with you?”

Link tenses.

Draga just stares, calmly, waiting.

“I’m sorry I hit you earlier.”

“Thanks, but that is not what I’m talking about right now or why I’m asking.”

Link signs, ‘It’s no problem.’

Draga signs, carefully, ‘L-I-A-R.’

“Leave it alone,” Zelda starts to say.

Draga interrupts. “But since you brought it up – why did you attack me? You’re crazy, but that was rude. You’re not usually rude.”

“I’m not crazy,” Link says calmly.

Draga rolls his eyes. “You’re reckless but you’re not rude. So why did you do that?”

Link’s mouth thins. Then, “I don’t know. Just felt right.”

“Hitting me felt right?”

Link shrugs.

“Are you sure you’re not crazy?” Draga sighs, a little dramatically, seemingly ready to abandon this line of questioning.

Then Link repeats, quietly, “I’m not crazy.”

And then there’s a long silence.

Draga, who was clearly not trying to dig at a nerve, seems mildly unsure what to do upon realizing he’s found one. Zelda, who was not aware that was a nerve to dig at, blinks. Link, who seems to realize what he’s just done, freezes. Luckily that’s when the fish he left in the skillet starts smoking and then bursts, somewhat improbably, into flames. Small miracles. Draga points. Zelda yelps. Link, noticing the sudden flames, grabs the handle on reflex and promptly burns his hand. He hisses, then tries again with a towel whereupon he just flings the whole pan into the creek where it ricochets off a rock and disappears into the shallows on the opposite bank.

Zelda stares.

Draga, dumbfounded, says, “You lost your pan.”

“Damn it,” Link says.

He inspects his burned hand. There’s a bright red band bisecting the centre of his palm.

“Here,” Zelda says, standing up. “Let me see.”

“Don’t,” Link snaps.

Zelda stops exactly where she is, boots rooted suddenly to the ground. Draga doesn’t say a word but Zelda can feel him… settling on her peripheral. Link flexes his hand a few times, furling and unfurling his fingers as the burn darkens, flushing with heat. She’s pretty sure it’s going to blister. She’s certain it must hurt. He looks over his shoulder at them and Zelda isn’t sure how to describe the specific notion that Link’s eyes get bluer somehow, intensify with his temper, even though that cannot be true. When he looks like that… huh, she thinks of the Wolf on the road.

“So there’s a demon in your shadow,��� Link says, looking at Draga.

Draga, who was nowhere near that topic of conversation, stares then slowly allows the violent change of subject. “Yes, we established this. Are you getting that pan or…?”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course, it bothers me, but you get used to it.”

Link turns around. “Do you want us to try and get rid of it?”

Draga laughs, then seems to realize Link is serious. “That’s a notion, but no. You can’t break the tie with this demon. It’s too ancient even for you two. I admit, there is a wildness to you both that defies the laws of convention so nothing is impossible, but unless you exhibit some control over what you do I can’t imagine you breaking a curse this powerful.” Draga tilts his head. “No offense, Link, you’re strong. What power you possess, it tends to wipe out what stands before it, but you act in instinct. Do you even know how you did what you did back in the Rito Village?”

Link says nothing.

Zelda cuts in, “I could try though. The entirety of my inherited magic is fashioned for sealing malicious power.”

“And you used most of it against the Calamity,” says Draga evenly. “And what practical application has there been from your study of sorcery at the Hyrulian high court? Any at all? Or do you, like Link, draw on some unspecified knowledge at the time of necessity?”

“That may be true,” she says, ignoring the sting of that – the implication that years of prayer and study have amounted to nothing so much as book knowledge, “but how can a single dark spirit be more dangerous than the Calamity Ganon?”

“I don’t believe it is more dangerous, just more subtle. Zelda, your power is a hammer.”

“And that won’t work because…?”

“You cannot kill what you cannot reach. The demon isn’t… here. It’s on the other side of the veil. The demon tribe does not exist on this plane until they choose to do so and they needn’t present themselves in our world to do harm.” Draga gestures to his bruised cheekbone, the place where the monster laid a gash open during the fight. “Again, what you saw was a shadow on a wall. The real beast is… bigger.” He hesitates, like even talking about it sets him on edge. “But this is all beside the point: I have protections afforded me by my family. So long as I do not engage in pact magics, I am safe.”

“You’re sure?” Link says.

“After two decades of living with it? Reasonably.”

Zelda frowns, moving to take a seat on the log he’s leaning against. “Your basing this off the fact it… simply hasn’t tried anything historically?”

“No,” Draga says quietly, “I’m basing it off the fact my sisters worked very powerful magic to protect me before they died. Generations of my family have fought endlessly to break the curse and they’ve come the closest to doing it – to limiting its scope. It would dishonor their efforts to expose others needlessly to the danger now. So… I thank you, but pick a different battle. This one is mine.”

“So fight all the battles that aren’t close to us?” Link demands.

Draga looks at him. “Why are you so eager for a fight?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re being rude again. Are you going to fight me now?”

“Of course not.”

Draga narrows his eyes. “Okay, what you actually angry about? Because it’s not my curse. You’ve been in a mood since we left the Village this morning and you were fine before then so what is it? Because I think I’ve humored you long enough about something that is, actually, deeply personal so either respect my wishes not to be your next battleground or tell me what’s actually wrong.” He folds his arms. “If you can do that, maybe I’ll consider letting you help. Your choice.”

And Link, rather precisely caught, looks away.

After a while, Draga sets his book aside and moves somewhat laboriously into a crouch.

“If you’re not going to get that skillet, then I’ll do it. You’ll just be irritated about it later –”

“I don’t remember things,” Link says, cutting him off.

Draga stops. He processes that, then calmly, “I thought you said you’d recovered most of your memories.”

“Some,” Link murmurs. “Not most.”

“And that bothers you?” Draga asks.

He doesn’t quite smile. "You get used to it."

If Draga resents his words being echoed, he doesn’t give sign. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. Is it the first Zelda’s heard of it?”

And Link looks at her. She’s fighting back the knot in her throat because he looks so tired in that moment.

“I knew,” Zelda cries, hands clenching tight in her lap. “I thought it was… Link how bad is it? You never talk about it! You remember so much. We talk about the past all the time. I… I sensed that you’d remembered our time together. What do you mean you don’t remember things? What’s missing? Was I wrong?” She stops when Link folds his arms and looks away, a slight visible pain moving across his face, then sliding back into unreadable calm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn't answer.

“We can go back to Zora’s Domain,” Zelda says, desperately now. She stands up, hands clasped tight, pressed against her stomach. She feels nauseous. Dizzy. “They remember you from before I knew you. You said before that they helped you get things back. You have so many friends there. They would certainly help you. Please, you don’t have to… pretend everything is fine. We can stop. We can go back. Just talk to me.”

“I don’t think it will help.”

“Why?”

He shrugs.

“Link, no. Tell me why.”

“I always…” He tries to go on, but his next words stick and die. He says nothing for a moment, as though he’s not certain about continuing at all, but Draga is waiting and Zelda is waiting, trembling with the silence, so he signs, ‘I always assumed I’d lose my mind. So, it’s not a priority.’

Zelda says nothing.

Then, “What?”

Draga, who is probably catching only a handful of Link’s sign, looks sharply at her.

“You’re not going to lose your mind!” Zelda cries.

“What?” Draga echoes.

Link’s completely emotionless as he, wordless, lays it out in gesture and sign. ‘I already did once. It’s not unreasonable to think it’s likely.’

 “Why would you say that?” Her voice is starting to crack. “What do you mean…?”

‘I don’t know. I have a feeling. My instincts tend to be good. That’s all.’

“How long have you felt this way?”

’Since the sword chose me. Draga is right: I have no control over the power inside me. It's going to eat me alive.’

Zelda covers her mouth with one hand, shaking.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.’

“I don’t understand what he’s saying,” Draga says tensely.

“Link…” Zelda hesitates to see if he wants to speak for himself but he gives her a small permissive nod. “He's saying he has no control. That... the magic itself is going to drive him insane and...” She looks desperately at her once knight and partner, who calmly waits for her to translate the massiveness of his admission into plain words. “…because he lost his memories once already, it's accelerated the timeline. He thinks he will lose his mind and that it’s going to happen sooner rather than later. That's why he's pushing about the curse, because he thinks it's going to get worse.” Tears are brimming in her eyes. “Link is that right?”

He drops his gaze.

He nods.

And Zelda, barren of any other instinct in that moment, shakes her head. Slowly at first, then hard, until her hair is in her eyes and her heart in her throat and she can’t – she can’t –

She dashes across the short distance, hitting Link in the chest, palms first. She hears him grunt softly with the impact. Her hands close on his tunic. She can feel the scale mail beneath it – a token of his childhood friend, hand-crafted to fit him. His eyes are wide. She can see every organic fractal of blue in his irises and the faint scar at the top of his forehead where his hairline starts. He got it from a riding accident when he was ten. His ears are pierced because Zora give jewelry so casually as a gift.

His hands close over hers. She can pick out a myriad of pale scars on his fingers – a history of learned violence she was never witness to. She doesn’t know the stories in the callouses. She doesn’t know the topography of his lost history, mapped out in implication only and gone now in the wake of the Calamity. Her fists ball up in his shirt and she pulls at him so she can drop her forehead against her fists and breathe.

 “You could have told me,” she chokes. “I wanted…. I wanted to know that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, aloud but so softly it could be lost in the breeze. “It was easier to pretend.”

She draws back, lifting her eyes. “How could that be easier?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, just turns from her, so her hands slide from his breastbone to his shoulder. When he continues not to answer, she moves behind him and (after a hesitation, intense, all encompassing, white hot) loops her arms around him, tucking her arms around his ribs, her hands lacing over his chest. She lies her cheek against that back of his neck. His hair tickles a little. He smells like the floral bar soap from the inn. Her heart is slamming in her chest – rabbit-quick and afraid.

“You can tell me.” She swears it to him, but still the silence stretches. “Please. Please, just tell me…”

“You didn’t know me well enough to tell the difference.”

Zelda nods, just once, then presses her face against the slope of his neck, feels his hand close over her inter-locked fingers. Squeezing tight. Like an apology or to keep her from pulling away in the aftermath. She’s not sure. She’s not sure about anything. She's not sure he could have hurt her more if he drew his blade across her arm – letting blood from her veins like venom from a bite. His hand tightens until the bones in her fingers ache and she, acting on impulse, mouths ‘it’s okay’ against the nape of neck until his hand relaxes.

“Link,” Draga says, when it's clear Zelda can't go on, “do you want my opinion?”

He waits for Link to nod.

“In Gerudo teachings, magic use of any kind always carries some measure of madness. An attitude of risk. The greatest danger to any sorcerer is the possibility of losing themselves to the powers within them – The Thousand Voices. The Sea of Lives. To lose yourself to any of these is to fall to abomination and possession. It’s what killed my family and what stands in my shadow... so when you tell me you’re afraid to lose yourself, know that I hear you, but also know that I have some notion of the signs.”

He lets that settle for a moment.

“When you say you’re going to lose your mind, do you mean you’re going to lose yourself to the Sea or that your memory loss has made you a different man?”

“Both,” Link says quietly.

“One may not have anything to do with the other, you know.”

“I dream about drowning in twilight and a moon that falls time and again, infinitely.” Link’s hand tightens on Zelda’s again, his shoulders set. “I dream about falling so far from above the clouds that I can barely see the earth. In the dream, I’m another person. When I wake up, I feel that I don’t have enough of myself left to keep them out. One has to do with the other.” He shivers. “I’m… afraid of losing my mind again. It’s like dying…”

“Look at me,” Draga says. “Link. Look at me. You embody the soul of the hero, yes, so you have many lives lined behind you. Maybe they tell you how to move. How to fight. How to employ magic you’ve never learned or a tactic you’ve never tried. Maybe, in moments of battle or fear, you see a window into a section of their lives, but I don’t believe they will consume you.”

Link's looking at the creek, not Draga.

Link says, “Why not?”

“Because those lives are yours, in some degree. They’re behind you. Like memories. You’re troubled because you’re beginning to see memories that are not your own when your own memory has been so dramatically reduced. You were wounded in battle, Link. You lost parts of yourself. I won’t say that I know whether you will ever get those pieces back, but even so the man you are now… he’s far too stubborn to fall to the men that came before him.” 

“None of them lost to the Calamity,” Link murmurs.

“None of them had to come back from losing.”

“I can’t control it.”

“Such is wild magic. It’s not for you to control, but it’s intent is not your destruction. You can stand in the eye of the storm and direct its trajectory, Link, simply trust that you’re unmovable.” And when Link does not look at him, Draga moves forward and with two hands takes his head into his palms, fingers curling around the back of his neck, thumbs hooked behind the line of his jaw and when Link doesn't pull away, he guides his eyes up. “Listen to me," he says. "You are not insane. Even if every hero before you was utterly mad, you are not and you will not be."

Link exhales. "Why not?"

"You have Zelda. You have me.” He searches Link’s eyes, shakes his head. “I do not see the signs in you. So, you won't be lost."

Link doesn’t move. Doesn’t relax.

“Do you believe me, Link?”

Zelda can smell copper, taste it, like a coin on her tongue.

Link exhales, slowly. “I believe you.”

“Good. Then we should get back on the road.” Draga lets Link go and moves to pick is book up from the grass where he left it. “There are dragons at Tabantha Bridge. Or was that not true?”

Link turns in Zelda’s arms. Before she can react, he cups her face in his hands and presses his mouth to the plane of her right cheek. He says something, soundless, against her skin. ‘Thank you’ perhaps or… or something else. She freezes. Her entire face flushes, but as fast as he does it, he stops. He steps away, moving past her toward the creek where he starts to wade across the shallow water, hunting for the skillet. Zelda can’t explain why her lips, not her cheek, seems to ache from contact (or lack thereof) and the shiver that runs down her body ends somewhere in her stomach.

Draga turns around, slinging a satchel over his shoulder. “Gerudo country isn’t far from here. We have time to slow down before we head that way.”

Zelda rubs her cheek. “Yes, right. Of course.”

Link’s plucking the lost pan from the water.

Draga’s looking at her. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yes. I’m okay.” She pulls her hair back. “Uh, thank you again, Draga. I… I appreciate it. I think Link needed to hear that.”

“You two need to talk more,” he says quietly. “I mean what I said – he’s safe but much of that has to do with you. Isolation is the fastest way for the Sea to take a soul beyond the shore.” He moves toward the clearing where the horses are penning beyond the trees. “I may not always be here. You need to be sentinel.”

Zelda hops the log by their rest site, chasing him down.

“Draga.” She catches his arm, pulling him around to face her. “If you leave Link and I, who will be your sentinel?”

He says nothing, just peers down at her, eyes unfathomable and green. He’s so tall he casts a shadow over her. She waits.

“I’ve been alone since I was fifteen, Zelda. I’ve had seven years to work out how to protect myself by myself. You needn’t worry about me.” He smiles a little. “But I appreciate it.”

She lets him pull away to check the tack on his horse.

“Okay,” she says to herself.

Behind her, Link is putting out the fire and packing up. Draga is patting Arbiter. She stands there, aware of them both, and silently over and over she hears Draga saying, ‘I may not always be here. I may not always be here. I may not…’

  They board their horses at Tabantha Bridge Stable a full day later.

It’s a quiet and somewhat isolated outpost perched almost directly on the cliff besides its namesake – narrow arch of wood planking and rope that tenuously spans the dizzying plunge of Tanagar Canyon. So deep is the fissure in some sections of the country, the bottom vanishes into a deeper, darker layer of cloud and mist that seems it could very well be the migratory path of draconic beasts. Tabantha Bridge is the only permanent bridge linking the plains of Hyrule Ridge to the snowy region of Hebra and therefore, an essential waypoint for merchants and travelers of all variety.

They take day packs and hike out to the far edge of the canyon at the foot of Mount Rhoam, far from the bridge itself, and set up a comfortable spot for themselves on a wide jut of stone overlooking the canyon course. Zelda lays down several blankets within minute Draga has produced alcohol from a deceptively small flask that tingles when Zelda takes draft from it. She suspects, somewhat, that it’s enchanted in the way Link’s travel satchel is enchanted and carries far more than its dimensions should allow.

So, getting increasingly more drunk, they watch the color leech from the sky.

Turns out Link isn’t a talkative drunk.

After quite a few long draughts from the flask, however, Link does discard all sense of personal space. So he’s presently trying to climb on Draga’s back and Zelda – eating a small bag of candied fruit – makes absolutely no move to help. Link keeps saying something about ‘higher ground’ as he clambers their giant friend the way he might climb a rock face. Draga doesn’t seem amused. He pries at the smaller man with little success, Link clinging, tenacious as a limpet. He gives it up until Link is literally sitting on his left shoulder, squinting across the plains with the attitude of a mountaineer surveying the country.

Draga sighs and loops a hand over Link’s knee to keep him from tipping. He eyes the impetuous Hero of Hyrule with a long, calculated stare that is surely counting down to the moment he flings Link into the dirt. But he makes no move to do so. His hand on Link’s thigh is so large that his fingers very nearly encircle his leg just above his knee.

“I could throw you like a shotput,” Draga reminds him.

Link says, loudly, “Don’t be a drag, Draga.”

The Gerudo gives him this look like Link’s immediate future as a human bolo is forthcoming.

“Are you certain the dragon comes this way?”

 “Yes,” he says.

“When?”

“Very late at night. Or very early in the morning.”

Draga promptly torques to the left and flings Link to the ground next to Zelda. Zelda, still eating candied fruit, moves the bag out of the way so it doesn’t get crushed when Link rolls onto his back and lies there, a little red-faced, on the blanket. Draga takes a seat at the far edge of the blanket, the small campfire to the side casting relief on the three of them, the full moon laying silver highlight across the grassy slope up Mount Rhoam. Link points at the moon and signs.

‘I keep thinking it’ll turn red.’

Draga looks up, stunned. “The blood moons have stopped now that Calamity is gone.”

Zelda tilts her head. “Yes. You didn’t know that?”

Draga runs a hand through his hair, the wind ruffling some of the shorter bits. “I did, I just now realized that’s directly attributable to you two.”

Zelda does a little half bow/wave combo. Link gives a thumbs up.

“I take it back.” Draga lies back on the ground, lacing his fingers behind his head. “It’s not that impressive.”

“We probably should not be drinking if we’re trying to spot a dragon,” Zelda points out. “I’m already sleepy.”

‘They aren’t dangerous,’ Link signs.

“Wake me if dragons show up,” says Draga, closing his eyes and with a soldier’s immediacy, falls asleep.

Zelda prods the sole of his boot with her toe and gets no response. Link laughs, but silently, shoulders shaking a little. Zelda sits up so she can crawl over and peer down at Draga who, yes, appears to have completely dropped to sleep in the span of one moment and the next. She satisfies herself that it’s so by mock lunging and waving her hands inches from his face. Nothing. She sits back on her heels, examining their friend’s sleeping face. In consciousness, Draga’s neutral expressions are somewhat severe, lending him a default mien of someone vaguely irritated, just on the verge of a scowl. In sleep, the edges smooth away; you might notice his eyelashes are a little long, or that his hair curls where it get loose from the braids and clasps. Zelda has to resist a small, familiar impulse to smooth his hair flat where it’s sticking up.

She catches Link in the corner of her eye, signing.

‘I think we can break the curse.’

Zelda, glancing warily at Draga, signs back, ‘We should respect his wishes.’

Link sighs and flops back down, running his hands over his face. He signs, from his back, ‘We could fight it.’

Zelda moves to kneel beside him, leaning over her fallen knight so she can sign down at him. ‘I don’t know how to fight it.’

Link tilts his head. He’s so much smoother with his hand signals. ‘I think you did pretty well.’

She gives up on sign. “I didn’t know what I was doing. It was just… in the moment.”

Link grins. ‘You shouted down a demon.’

“I did not.”

He shrugs, makes a lazy one-handed gesture that translates, thereabouts: ‘I liked it.’

Link’s still grinning. His smiles linger longer, stick more easily when he’s tacky with liquor and slower to rein in the translation of emotions to body language, like drink gums up the gears that tell him to be stone before the eyes of others. A breeze rising from the valley ruffles Link’s bangs slightly. He’s a little more slack than usual, a warm fluidity born of drunkness and, she thinks, happiness. He’s been lighter since their talk at the creek. Quicker to smile and take to a joke. The firelight’s putting little strands of gold into his hair. He smiles up at her.

Zelda is not sure how it happens, or what part of her mind goes into automatic movement but the impulse – always there, vaguely, unformed and unexamined – comes to the forefront of her brain and asserts control. She places one hand on the blanket by Link’s head, bracing herself so he’s beneath her, looking up at her. He watches her, curiously, and begins to mouth a word. Lips parting on something, a question maybe or –

She kisses him.

Her lips find his just as his voice finds his throat. The vibrato comes across his teeth, settles in the bones of her face and it’s so unexpected she jerks back immediately, as if shocked. Link stares at her, half braced on his elbows in the attitude of rising, eyes wide in the dark, his lips still parted on whatever he was going to say before she put her tongue in his mouth and caught his voice against the back of his teeth. He can’t seem to get it back – rendered all again mute by her.

“I’m sorry!” Zelda covers her mouth with her hands. Horror possesses every fiber in her body and knots them up. “I didn’t – I’m sorry! I’m drunk! I didn’t mean that!”

Link sits up very slowly, expression… odd. His lower lip is a little swollen. She shakes her head, whispering.

“I don’t know why I did that.”

He keeps staring at her.

“That wasn’t fair. Oh. That was stupid. I don’t… I guess…. I thought it was funny what you said. Shouting at demons. Oh… that’s not very funny actually.” Panic. She’s panicking. Link’s all blue-eyed and pale and just staring at her and she’s losing her mind right in front of me so of course she rejoins, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It seemed like a good idea! Oh. Why do I keep letting Draga give me alcohol?! Just because I stole his wine that one time and suddenly it’s, like, a challenge of some variety I honestly… I don’t…”

Link is still staring. Zelda gives up entirely and covers her face with two hands, peeking between her fingers, because that will somehow make this less horrible.

Voice muffled, she whispers, “I didn’t ruin things, did I?”

Link stares. Then, “What?”  

“You know… by doing that. Did I… ruin everything?”

Link again, says, “What?”

“Did I break it?”

“It?”

“Us.”

“What?”

They might both be a little too drunk for this.

“You know!” Zelda flaps a hand. “With the kiss.”

Link stares.

Then he promptly bursts into laughter.

Which, given how appalled she is, seems almost offensive – him amused in the face of her utter mortification and crisis. Link falls over on his side and lies there gasping, hair in his eyes, just lost in laughter. It occurs to Zelda that she’s never seem him laugh like that – that he’s very, very different when he’s breathless and smiling and loud even in a passing moment and in this passing moment, Zelda’s heart seems to constrict in her chest. Suddenly, she’s very glad she decided to kiss him if for no other reason than this.

Eventually, Link stops laughing.

Zelda lies down on the blanket facing him, smoothing her hair in annoyance.

Link signs, carefully, ‘You can’t break us.’

“Can’t I?” she whispers.

He looks at her. Then says, calmly, “No.”

And she doesn’t know what to say, so she says, “I might sleep this off and miss the dragon.”

Link shakes his head. He signs, ‘It’s a dragon.’

“Technically, it’s a spirit.”

‘You’d going to miss seeing a DRAGON.’

She shrugs, closing her eyes. “We have time.”

.

.

.

go to chapter 6...

[tkthrilla-writes]

Revali x reader - Aliens in Hyrule (Part 1)

He was walking out in the rain making his way back to Rito village on foot. The meeting with all the other champions back at Hyrule castle had gone on well, that was until they parted ways and half way back home it had started to rain. He hated flying in the rain, as much as his feathers were resistant to the water, it doesn’t mean they were any less heavy, and the wind was completely unpredictable. Meaning he couldn’t fly it, leaving him trudging down on the ground, with his talons digging into to the dirt to help him keep his balance. His wing covering his face from the rain, to prevent the little harsh droplets from clouding his vision any further. With his other wing grabbing his scarf to not let it fly away.   Lightning filled the sky and struck the ground, just a little ways away from Revali, making him jump from the fright he got. His ears ringed due to the loud noise, but that faded quickly. He began to hear the grunting of a Bokoblin and maybe even a Moblin. So readying his bow, with an arrow in position, drawing it back, and ready to strike. He could see the faint outline of the dark Bokoblin, just as he was about to let go, the Bokoblin’s head twisted in such a way that his head was facing his back. Leaving it fall down as a dead corpse. Revali tried to hear for anymore but the only thing he could hear was the gush of the rain. Walking forward, slowly and steadily armed, to see what exactly happened to the enemy creatures. And the closer he got, the clearer he could see a figure. No just any figure, a Hylian, standing with their back hunched, and looking down at the now dead corpse, dropping the ax they had in their hand. “What is a Hylian doing out here?” Revali thought to himself, he tried getting closer. But he stepped on an unseen twig and broke it making the Hylian face them sharply. The look in their eyes was wild, deranged, sleepless.   Lightning struck in the gap between the Hylian and Revali, causing him to flinch and turn away, making him lose eye contact with the person. Before he could look at the figure again, he was on the ground with a soft  'Oomph’, his wings pinned to the ground above his head, with a weight resting on his abdomen, preventing him from getting up. His face stopped coming in contact with the falling water, allowing him to get a clear  view of what was blocking and sheltering his face. It was the Hylian, hair drenched and sticking to their face. One hand pinning both his wings to the ground, them sitting on his stomach, and legs on his to prevent his escape, their free arm just dangling at their side. Now that they were closer to him, he was able to see their features. Turns out they was a she, due to the slight chest showing underneath the large baggy shirt, which had a strange design Revali was not familiar with, also wearing the strangest trousers that only went mid-thigh. Her eyes had a deranged look, goes to show how long she has been here on her own, having black circles underneath them, indicating her lack of sleep. Her face was covered in dirt, bruises and blood. Hair all oily, slick and knotted. The wind had suddenly began to pick up at an even higher gale force, which caused her hair to be thrown all over her face. Onto her nose, her cheek, some was even tossed behind her head revealing her… not a pointed ear… but a round tip ear. While Revali was distracted with the fact that this person was no Hylian, the human being began to reach for something in her back pocket.  She brought it up to her face and put it in her mouth. Now distracted by the new found object, Revali began to inspect it, and based on what he could see, it was a small blue and thin handle, that was the length of her mouth, with a rusty blade on one end. With her free hand she began to remove his shoulder pads. After removing both of them, they made eye contact and held it for what seemed like ages, but in reality was only a few seconds. Until her eyes widened with a smile forming, making her look even more deranged. As she grabbed the blade from her mouth and lowered it towards his neck. He didn’t know why he wasn’t struggling, maybe it was because he didn’t deem her as a threat, and that he was stronger than her. But still, there was a rusted blade about to cut his own neck and he was doing nothing. WAKE ME UP! WAKE ME UP INSIDE!  The two began to hear loud sounds with words in a rhythmic tone. This made the stranger drop her expression to that of fright, which lead her to quickly stagger to the direction of the noise, grab a bow and arrow, and aim them at Revali. Now that he was able to get up, he did, and stared down at the girl. Her hair was stuck to most of her face letting him see only one of her eyes, and he could easily tell that she was glaring at him. As she lay on the ground, her back slightly lifted at an angle, and some sort of  travel bag right behind her in the direction the noise was coming from.

She held to bow in such an incorrect way, instead of grasping it with a full handed fist, it was held in between her index finger and thumb. Her grasp on the drawn arrow was not any better either, instead of using only two of her fingers to keep it still and drawn, she used all of them. He could’ve sworn he saw one of he fingers holding the bow twitch and a flash of pain was shown in her eyes, but it was gone too quick to be sure of it. “Make sure to keep aiming that thing at me! It’s not like I’m going to hurt you!” Revali claimed, making her glare harsher. Sighing to this, he began to ponder to himself, till he decided to finally speak, “What happened to your ears?” he asked, which lead the girl to tilt her head in confusion and hold her glare.

BRING ME TO LIFE!

Letting go of whatever expression was on her face, and replaced it with panic, she had finally spoke her first words, in what Revali could tell, in ages, “Are you going to h-hurt me?” 

The hoarse words startled Revali to an extent, sure he had his misgivings with other Hylians, but that didn’t mean he was heart. So crouching down as much as he could, with the arrow following his every move, he said, “I’m not going to hurt you…”

There was a small pause of anticipation on his side as he saw her begin to relax, and nearly let go of all the apparatus she had in her hand. “Then that means my work here is done!” she said shooting the arrow in the gap between her and the Rito, which released a guff of smoke and an explosion.

“Bomb arrow!” Revali thought as he covered his face to not get any damage or inhale any smoke, which dissipated quickly due to the ongoing storm. Flapping his wing to make the air a little bit more clearer for him to see. He saw the girl, covered in rain water, dirt, bruises and blood, running off with the bag on her back, and the noise disappearing with her, until he couldn’t hear it anymore.

Sighing, as he watched her carry on with her running till the haze of the rain made her disappear, Revali stood up in silence. Looking at the direction she had gone off in, he was about to follow her, but after he took a single step, he felt something underneath his talons. So looking down and lifting them up, he found the same long handled blade, and he picked it up, inspecting it, save for the rust, the blade was quite smooth.

Looking off in the direction the girl had went, he began to wonder where in all of Hyrule did she even get such a weak, and seemingly useless weapon, as he carried on home to his village in the downpour. Vowing, that he will find this girl.

Note: This was inspired by Mod Pinks @lesserfandomappreciation

[katedoesfics]

Breath of the Resistance: Chapter 19

It was midday when Link finally arrived at Rito Village. He had driven straight through the morning, watching the cell service from time to time. It only got stronger as he neared the town, and working cell towers loomed in the distance. He was greeted by the Rito Elder, Kaneli, who seemed to be expecting Link’s arrival.

“I could smell that horrible thing from a mile away,” Revali said, making a face at the car.

Link leaned against the hood, his arms crossed. “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you.”

“Link,” Zelda warned.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over that obnoxious engine. Which I also heard from a mile away.”

“You must hear that a lot considering any vehicle could out drive you in flight.”

Zelda shook her head, her fingers on her temples.

Revali leaned forward, making sure to get in Link’s face. “I don’t need speed when I have deadly accuracy with a weapon.”

“Are you finished?” Zelda muttered, but still, she was not heard.

“You’re all talk,” Link said. “But I have yet to see you backup your claims.”

Revali’s beak turned up in a sly smile. “How about a little wager, then? We’ll settle this once and for all. But, where?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully as he straightened and paced about. His eyes widened as if struck by an idea. “Well, how about up there?” He pointed a wing towards the Divine Beast that perched on top of the mountain. “Atop Vah Medoh. Oh, wait.” He laughed lightly. “How could I forget? You have no way to get up there on your own, now, do you?”

Kaneli was not Revali. He was much older and, in turn, wiser, reserved, polite. Not an arrogant jerk. There were no pictures of Kaneli with horns doodled on his head.

Still. Revali was a strong, brave warrior, loyal to the bone, and a true example of the Rito and their ancestors. There was no doubt in Link’s mind that he didn’t give up Vah Medoh easily. He was stubborn, and he likely fought until his dying breath. And that familiar pain crept into Link’s chest. Another comrade gone.

“My scouts saw you coming,” Kaneli said as he welcomed Link and guided him through town. The Rito, being a bird-like race, preferred to live in a way that was more natural to them, which meant that Rito Village was set in high elevations. Link had driven as far up the mountainside as he could until the path brought him across bridges that wound their way further up and across to other ledges where their homes and businesses resided. Link and Kaneli walked across these bridges, though most of the Ritos flew over the large town to their destinations.

“We’re fortunate to be able to take to the sky, keeping us out of sight of the Guardians,” Kaneli continued. “My scouts have been the only way we have been able to communicate with everyone else in Hyrule. They’ve even been able to restore some of the cell towers in the area. At this rate, they just have the eastern side of the country to restore, which should greatly help us in this war we’ve fallen into.” He pointed a wing to a tall, pillar like structure in the distance. Floating just above it was Vah Medoh, its large head turning this way and that as it inspected the area below.

“Vah Medoh has been keeping close tabs on us,” the Rito Elder said. “As the other Divine Beasts are, it seems. Despite that, they are large and flawed, and it has been easy enough for us to get by unseen, for now.” He turned his gaze on Link and smiled. “I know you were able to reclaim Vah Rudania, so you should have no problem with Vah Medoh.”

Link shrugged and turned his gaze to the Divine Beast. “Sure,” he started. “If I can figure out a way to get up there.”

“Teba can help you,” Kaneli said. “He’s the only one of my soldiers who has been able to get near enough to the Divine Beast. He’s tried to reclaim it himself, but without much luck. It won’t be an easy task; Vah Medoh attacks anything that gets near it.”

“Of course,” Link muttered. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’ll figure it out.”

Kaneli let a wing rest on Link’s shoulder. “I know memories evade you, Link,” he said. “I appreciate all you have been doing for us, even before this war started.”

Link hesitated, unsure how to respond to the elder, but to his relief, Kaneli didn’t wait for a response.

“You’ll find Teba at the Flight Range,” he said to Link. “He’ll take you up to Vah Medoh.”

*****

To no surprise, Link found Teba at the Flight Range, just as Kaneli said. And like Kaneli, Teba seemed to have been expecting Link, though he was less than thrilled to see him. He was cleaning his own weapons when Link approached, and he started speaking without so much a greeting.

“I hope you brought your A game,” Teba said without turning around.

“Actually,” Link started. “I left it back in the car.” He threw his thumb back. “Should I grab it?”

Teba was not amused. He peered over his shoulder at Link. “I’m in no mood for your sarcasm, Link.” He straightened and turned to face Link. He looked him up and down quickly. “Is it true, then? You have no memory of anything that has happened?”

“Some of it’s coming back,” Link said. “I remember why I drew devil horns on a picture of Revali.”

Teba couldn’t help the grin that split his face. “You two always did butt heads.”

“I know,” Link said. “I remember that.”

Teba turned back to his weapons and pocketed them in the holsters under his wings.”I don’t know how much help I can be for you,” Teba admitted. “I can get you up there, but Vah Medoh will not hesitate to try to shoot us down.”

Link shifted his weight on his feet and folded his arms across his chest. He raised a brow at Teba. He remembered the Rito; a soldier much more reserved than Revali, but just as loyal and dedicated to his job. And he knew that Teba already had a plan in mind. “So,” Link started. “What’s the plan?”

Teba turned his gaze to Link and his grin returned. “There are four turrets on the outside of Vah Medoh,” he explained. “That’s what it uses to attack us when we get too close. It also has a force field to protect itself. If we can take out the turrets, it will also destroy the force field and we’ll be able to land on top of it.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Link said.

“I didn’t get to the bad part.”

Link rolled his eyes. “Hit me.”

“The turrets act similarly to the Guardians,” Teba said. “Which means that they’ll lock on to a target in its sights before shooting. Once it locks on, you have to act quickly or get caught by its attack. The only way you’ll be able to get a clear shot is if I act as distraction. I can get it to lock on to me and dodge it no problem. That will be your chance to take out the turret.”

“I’m a decent shot,” Link started. “But I don’t think I can keep myself steady while you’re flying through the air and get an accurate hit on those turrets.”

“Of course not,” Teba said as if his plan should have been obvious to Link. “The only way you’ll get a good shot is if you jump off my back and shoot at it.”

Link stared at Teba blankly for a moment. “You’re not kidding,” he finally muttered.

“Don’t worry,” Teba said. “I’ll catch ya.”

Link narrowed his eyes at the Rito. This had to have been the stupidest plan in the history of Hyrule.

“Do you have a better plan?” Teba inquired.

Link looked up at Vah Medoh, still looming above them, and sighed. “So help me, Hylia,” he muttered, turning his gaze back to Teba. “If I go down, I’m bringing you with me.”

*****

It took every ounce of will for Link not to grip Teba’s feathers as they soared through the air. Of all the things he had encountered before - Guardians, Divine Beasts, Yiga Clan soldiers, and even Ganon himself - being so high in the sky without the safety of a wall was the most terrifying thing he had ever endured. He was certain Teba could feel him shaking pathetically as they climbed higher and higher, but if Teba had noticed, the Rito never mentioned it to Link. Instead, he was focused on their task in getting aboard Vah Medoh, and he was busy reviewing the details with Link once more. When he finished speaking, he looked over his shoulder at Link.

“Got this?”

Link sucked in a breath and pulled out his gun. It was already loaded and ready to go. “Yeah,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “Piece of cake.”

He didn’t have much of a choice because at that moment, Vah Medoh had spotted them, and it roared angrily. Its red shield wrapped around, protecting it, and the turrets came out of its body.

“It’s go time,” Teba said. “Once that target locks on to me, take it out. If you wait too long, you’ll miss your chance.”

Teba swooped down towards Vah Medoh, aiming for the first turret near its beak. He flew by it, he and Link watching carefully as the turret moved around before locking on to its target and following the Rito through the air. That was his cue.

Link threw himself off of Teba before his brain had a chance to talk his body out of it, but the rush from the fall was greater than he had expected and his stomach dropped sickeningly. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the gun with both shaking hands, barely getting off a shot, but it missed his target by an embarrassing distance.

Link felt sharp talons rake at his back and he was jerked back up into the sky. Teba flapped his wings hard as they accelerated away from Vah Medoh.

“Fuck,” Link muttered. That did not go as he had planned. He shimmied angrily under Teba’s grip.

“Get it together,” Teba growled to him.

“I got it,” Link shouted up at him. “Let go of me.”

And to Link’s surprise, Teba did, and he fell once more down towards the Divine Beast. Teba swooped down and around him, taunting Vah Medoh and it locked on to the Rito once more. But this time Link knew what to expect, and he was better prepared for the sensation of the fall. He forced himself to focus on his target, taking aim and pulling the trigger. This time, his shot hit, and the turret exploded.

Link fell against Teba’s back, clinging to his feathers as Teba shot upwards and around the Divine Beast to the next turret.

“Yes,” Teba cheered triumphantly. “That’s it. Three more.”

“Three more,” Link muttered as he readied his next shot.

And the process repeated. Teba swooped in around Vah Medoh until a turret locked on to him and Link leapt into the air, firing two more shots. One of them hit, and the second turret erupted. Once more, Teba caught Link as he fell, circled back around, and aimed for the third turret. It took another two shots, but the third turret was taken out, and with Link’s last shot, the forth turret met the same fate.

Vah Medoh’s roar echoed through the valleys and its red force field dropped, allowing Teba and Link to board the Divine Beast. Teba swooped down, circling for a moment before landing on the tail end. Link slid off Teba’s back and worked quickly to reload his weapons. If it was anything like Vah Rudania, there would be a blight somewhere aboard Vah Medoh, and it wouldn’t hesitate to attack them as soon as it saw them.

Link looked around them quickly, taking in the sights. The back of Vah Medoh was fairly open, but Link could easily pick out the control panel towards the middle of its back. Beyond the control panel, near the Divine Beast’s head, were a circle of tall pillars, and coming through those pillars was the Windblight that occupied Vah Medoh. It shrieked at the sight of Link and Teba and disappeared in a flash.

Link held up his gun, moving erratically around in search for the phantom, and it appeared just inches above his head with another loud scream. But Teba lurched forward, throwing Link to the ground as the Windblight shot at Link with its turret styled weapon. The shot exploded as it hit the ground, just missing them by inches. Teba pulled Link back onto his feet and they broke into a sprint across Vah Medoh.

“Get on,” Teba shouted at Link. “We’ll have a better chance if we can get above it.”

Link didn’t argue, and he leapt onto Teba’s back just as he pushed off into the air, his wings flapping hard as they gained altitude. Below them, the Windblight shrieked and disappeared, and when it appeared again, it was just yards in front of Link and Teba.

Link fired off three rounds quickly before the Windblight could attack. All three of his shots hit their target, ripping through the Windblight just as they had done with the Fireblight. The phantom fell to the ground, crashing against the pillars, and Teba swooped in quickly as Link fired off another set of rounds. Teba pulled up quickly as the Windblight regained itself and Link took the opportunity to reload his gun.

But when the Windblight took to the air once more, it had traded its turret styled weaponry for something much more deadly. Like the Guardians, it locked on to Teba and Link and fired a deadly, laser like blast at them, catching both of them off guard. Teba dove to the side in an attempt to dodge the attack at the last minute, but the force of his maneuver threw Link off his back and plummeting towards the ground.

Link landed on the hard floor, his body skidding across. The force knocked his gun out of his hand and the wind out of his lungs. He fought against his darkening vision and waited for the spinning to cease. But when he was finally able to focus himself, the Windblight was just inches above him, and it had locked on to him.