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bokettochild · 7 days ago

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Christmas of Closure - Day 3

(belated, I know)

*startles the emails of the poor unfortunate souls still following this series after all this time*

MERRY CHRISTMAS FEATHERED FANS!!!!!!!!

Its my girl Lullaby and I had FUN!!!!!

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 (you are here) | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 (sometime)

Full fic under the cut

The next time they slip through a portal, it’s a very different world than the last few times.

It’s not the soft haze of Twilight’s era, or the ethereal quality of the untainted earth in Sky’s. It’s also not the rushing wave of magic characteristic to his own world after Zelda and he had made the wish to undo Ganon’s work over the land.

That said, the magic around them is very much alive, and that means that it’s not Hyrule’s world, just as the presence of lush fields means Wind is out of the question.

“There’s a road ahead,” Four observes, pointing it out to the rest of them, and Legend’s quick to fix on it even as Wild sounds out a laugh at the sight.

“Not my era then!”

He’s still not sure way that’s something to find humor in, but he doesn’t ask; it’s Wild, he seems to take anything outside of a battle in stride, regardless of how true his suspicions about it may or may not be. It's an endearing quality though, and goodness knows it’s served him, unintentional though that might have been.

At their front, Warriors, much more relaxed since leaving Twilight’s era and its associated memories, nods, looking about the same as the rest of them. “Not mine either, I think.” He doesn’t say how, but nobody asks either.

“Legend?” Sky turns back to him, question in the single word.

The vet shakes his head, shifting his wings in closer as a breeze blows past them. “The magic is wrong for my time.”

“Mine too,” the traveler sounds from behind him, frowning at all the green around them. “It must be before our time, or a very long time after, but if Wild and Warriors say-”

“It's mine.” There’s not an ounce of hesitation in the old man’s tone as he quickens his pace, moving to overtake the captain at their front.

“You sure?”

And the old man is sure, apparently, because regardless of doubts, he’s set off in one direction or another (Legend glances towards the sun briefly to figure out which one) and so they all follow. When Twilight asks, bemused and confused, their eldest just answers “the trees said so”, which isn’t a totally cryptic and weird thing to say at all.

Not that he’s never talked to trees himself, but there aren’t trees around them, and last he checked, their old man’s hearing wasn’t that good. Or is it?

Whatever the case, they all know where their leader is headed if this is his world, and doubtful as some of them are they follow eagerly. It’s been a very long time since they were last at Lon Lon, and when at last the walls of it appear, he finds Wind tagging his arm with a bright grin and a “race you!” that has all of them breaking off into a sprint.

Well, most. Legend’s competitive by nature, as they all are, but in this case, he’s got a bit of advantage, one that even the heroes who can push past the rest with their bulk don’t have.

He has wings.

Better than that though, he has wings he can use, and use them he does!

It’s still hard getting off the ground, but with the momentum he already has and the downhill slope to the ranch before them, he manages okay, spreading out pink feathers for a wide flap that gets him airborne, followed quickly by the shorter ones Sky and Sun had taught him were best for gaining altitude but to refrain from using when soaring.

“No fair!” Can be heard from below, even as Sky lets out a whoop and Hyrule breathes some magical words or another that have his own wings flickering into sight, the traveler taking off after him with a short huff of annoyance, most likely at not thinking of doing the same himself before.

Well, too bad for him, Legend thinks, tucking wings in for a quick dive down to bap Time on the top of his head, just for the sake of doing so. The old man starts and trips when he does, and it’s all the veteran can do to stay airborne as he watches the rest tumble into each other and over the man as a result. Like so many wooden blocks or tiles, they go stumbling into each other until they’re all flat and the race is forgotten, for only a second, as he and Hyrule watch.

It’s not his first time flying since Skyloft, but it is the first time he’s tried going fast since then, and it only came to mind because he’d been wishing for a moment that he was tall enough to not get trampled over, and then realized that he hasn’t a need of height when he can just be above them altogether. Unfortunately, he’s not the only one, and while the rest sort themselves out below, he and Hyrule catch eyes, a spark and a smirk touching the face of the other, and in a breath the two are dart-dashing, wings beating as fast as they can, in order to reach the ranch first.

As it turns out, Groose was right about his wings; he’s literally made for speed, for quick motions, even if he does lack the endurance in the sky that he can usually muster on the ground. Hyrule, in contrast, is quick, but like the fairies he gets half his blood from, his wings aren’t meant to cover distance, and more for long bouts of flight. It’s not like bird wings at all, so he’s still fuzzy on the details, but one fact he knows for sure: between the two of them, he’s faster.

So yes, he wins, but it does come at the rather unfortunate cost of speeding right past the traveler and almost into the ground when he tries to land. It is only when the ground appears that he remembers that slowing down wasn’t really something they’d practiced much, and with his landings still being clumsy, the result is that he’s rather a bit bruised when he does pull himself up out of the dirt and hay, blessedly having employed his brain at the last second and speeding into the nearest haystack rather than the ground itself.

Hyrule’s a flit behind him, still hovering and pealing bell-like laughter as he watches Legend emerge from the pile of dried grass, spitting and coughing and wings fluttering by force of their own to shake free the stalks caught between feathers. “Need help?”

“Do I look like I need help?” He tries, shooting a look up at the traveler just as the haystack gives a great sigh of dust and slumps over on top of him.

It’s a blessing he grew up between an orchard and a farm, because rather than panic at the sudden increase of weight, the veteran just groans.

“Yes please, I need help.”

The traveler’s laughter can still be heard as hands catch around his own and start tugging.

Legends not unused to burrowing, especially as, in rabbit form, it made for an effective defense mechanism. That said, it’s a very different thing in hylian form, and even more so with two more whole limbs to have to maneuver out of is itchy confines. All the worse too because his wings seem to take a mind of their own some days, and they flutter quiet ceaselessly as Hyrule tugs on him, which he’s not sure actually helps them at all.

That’s how the rest come upon them, all sweaty and maybe dirt streaked themselves, but when they see the traveler trying to tug him free from a collapsed pile of hay, they must all figure out what happened to get him there.

“Oh, Legend,” Sky chuckles, walking over to offer a hand even as Warriors snorts behind him, trying desperately to cover the sound with his hand and failing as his eyes twinkle.

The vet sighs. With his luck, no one is ever going to let him forget about this. Ever.

Luckily, nobody actually says anything in the moment, and once he’s been pulled free and given his wings the few flaps that he can to try and shake free his new coat of hay, helped by Sky to brush himself off, they just all head for the house.

Upon entering, he very much wishes he’d stayed buried in the hay.

It would be one thing if it was just Malon seated at the living room window, face flushed with barely contained laughter and eyes sparkling, but it’s not. No, because there is very much a second person in the room and she’s definitely not Time’s jolly, friendly father-in-law.

The other person on the couch, seated by the window and clearly just having witnessed his little blunder, is a woman somehow more hawkish than even Dusk had seemed when he’d first seen her, a notion not at all disproved by the set of great barred wings stretched out behind her.

Time, at their front when they’d all moved into the house, draws up short, startled. “Your highness.”

The woman doesn’t look a queen, and yet, at the same time, there’s no doubt in any corner of the veteran’s mind that she is one. Her long blonde hair is tied up into a loose braid that hangs over one shoulder, neatly cut but wind ruffled bangs hanging heavy over eyes that somehow aren’t purple, but still sit between red and blue in a way he can’t explain. She’s not dressed like a royal exactly, but the trousers, vest, and white shirt definitely give her an authoritative air, although it seems to have a very short-lived effect on their leader.

Very short lived indeed, because the man only takes a moment before frowning and raising a brow at his queen. “Isn’t it a bit early for day-drinking?”

On second glance, she’s got a glass in one hand with a small amount of something golden within.

Malon, at her side on the couch and looking as much herself as before, not bothered at all by the queen sitting with her, just grins up at her husband, setting her own half-full glass down on a side table. “Now don’t be like that, Link. Her highness jist needed some girl time is all.”

“I’m going to need a lot more in a minute here,” the queen rasps, voice between a smooth alto and high tenor, a light scrape on certain sounds as she blinks slowly towards the heroes before her. “Link,” it’s a drawn-out sound that’s half sigh, half scolding “what did you do?”

“Excuse me?”

There’s a snort behind him, and when Legend risks a glance, Warriors is shaking his head with one of those fond smiles he pulls from time to time when their leader acts particularly unlike his typically mature self. He’s the only one laughing though, as the rest of their number look as confused as Legend himself feels.

“Explain,” the whiskey glass is set to a table and huge wings flutter slightly into something more dignified that the sprawled out position they’d been in a moment before, the queen’s almost bi-colored eyes so flat that he can’t tell where they’re looking past her long lashes, “why you’ve been gone for an unknown amount of time, Ocarina at your hip, and just came back with a child that looks like the perfect combination of the two of us?”

Malon chokes.

Time’s mouth drops open for a moment.

The queen is glaring. “Remember that I like her better than you, if you did something dumb-”

“I would never!”

“He din’ cheat!” The farmwife gasps, but it almost sounds like she’s laughing, face quite red as she settles her own glass down. “Dear Din, Zel, he knows better!”

Even so, the queen stares at Time, and then, quite unexpectedly, at himself.

Aw crap, why’d he end up near the front of their group? For that matter, when did he stop walking at the back? Good grief, why does this keep happening?

“I would never cheat,” Time sighs, lifting a hand to his face as he blinks away some sort of emotion Legend wasn’t quick enough to catch. “Especially not with you.”

“So... the kid?”

Self-conscious, he tucks his hay-prickled wings in closer and tries to slip off behind their leader and out of sight from the unreadable stare of the queen of Hyrule. He's not sure if that’s a skill learned from wearing the crown or maybe genetic, but he’s rather sure he doesn’t have it. Regardless though, it’s deeply unsettling, seeing as he has absolutely no way to read her thoughts, and while Dusk’s presence had sent off signals in his brain that she could be a threat, that she knew how to fight and could win if she tried, the woman before him is so much more blatant with the way she bleeds power and confidence into the world around her.

Dusk was like a rapier, sharp, quick, and beautiful, but this woman is a broadsword, or maybe a claymore; large, threatening, and very, very dangerous.

Time, however, doesn’t falter, instead moving further into the invaded living room space and settling down in a chair, armor and all, single eye leveling his queen with the same flat look he shoots the captain sometimes. “Your descendant.”

A brow arches. “Just mine?”

“Yes.”

Twilight, rather loudly, clears his throat.

“No.” Time amends, this time looking a bit startled as he glances back to his protege, perhaps realizing for the first time the implications of the relation between Legend and the rancher. “It-”

Malon’s already twinkling eyes set on her descendant, a smile slowly blossoming over her face, “wait, did you-”

A heavy hand settles on his shoulder, that same familiar gesture, hand familiar, and face, again, still just a bit different, even though the tone is just the same as sounds in his memory. “Legend’s my nephew.”

The farm-wife's eyes glow, and in sharp contrast, the queen just arches an imperial looking brow, gaze sliding to Time, expectant, even as Malon jumps up from her seat with a clap of her hands to throw her arms around both her descendant and himself. “That’s amazin’!”

Legend, unfortunately, misses most of Time’s explanation, or indeed, any of his further interactions with the queen, because Malon is suddenly all bustle and questions, taking his face up in her hands like she’d done with some of the rest when first meeting and giving him a good looking over before nodding firmly, as though she’s found something.

“You must take after yer mum more, bless you, but I see some Lon in you, sure enough!”

Which is good, considering that’s sort of his last name and all, but he’s probably better off not saying that.

Twilight though, is all smiles, the hand on his shoulder squeezing gently. “Oh yeah, you should see her, there’s no doubt they’re family.”

“And yet,” Wild pipes up, smirking at his mentor, “you totally missed it, even when they were standing right in front of each other.”

The rancher scowls, face flushing lightly. “Shut up.”

Zelda leaves shortly after they arrive, with a smile for Malon and a word or two with Time that leaves the man smiling in that secret way that none of them have learned to decipher yet.

Any questions receive only vague answers, from husband and wife both, so the heroes elect to leave it be, for the time being at least.

They settle in on the ranch as they did before. Helping with chores until sundown and gathering for a meal. It’s a warm night so most of the older ones go out to sleep in the barn, blankets and bedrolls tucked under arms as they tease and laugh their way from the house, Warriors leading the lot of them and Twilight and Sky following. As for the rest, they bunk down in the spare room.

Morning dawns faster than on Skyloft, and clearer than in the rancher’s world. They’re not up in the sky waiting for the sun to reach them, and there’s not a haze stopping the light from shining in at windows, so, naturally, Legend wakes early.

It’s something about being on a farm, he thinks, slipping out of the bed but minding to tuck the blankets back into place so as to not wake his younger brothers. It reminds him of grandmother, of being back at the Lon on in his own era and getting up early to help with the chores and going to bed when the sun set, rather than waiting until he couldn’t travel any longer. It’s sort of nice, and though it’s been years, it’s enough on this side of familiar that he can slip back to it.

There’s just one difference; he has brothers asleep in the barn, and Malon and Tie, apparently, aren’t up yet.

So, while it’s not like the farm, he elects to go for something else to keep him busy and keep himself awake until he can know what should or shouldn’t be done, and how to do so without upsetting some sleep-deprived elders. Namely, he elects to try again for a proper landing.

It’s easier each time he tries taking off, but he fumbles a bit with trying to get his feet under himself before he hits the ground. It’s once, twice, thrice, before he eventually lets himself catch the rope hanging down by the hayloft, wings tucking in close and Mel and Rom’s old tricks slipping to mind instead of Sun’s so he can reach the roof of the barn without slamming into it face first.

He’s not expecting to find the queen of Hyrule already sitting up there, gaze fixed on him.

His grip slips only a moment before instinct kicks in. Regardless of surprise, he needs to get onto something solid before he addresses the person there already. It’s basic safety after all, especially when working with ropes instead of proper equipment.

Gosh, sometimes he really, really misses the traveling troupe. He’s incredibally rusty on his old tricks and acting.

It’s only once he’s sitting on the roof, rubbing the sting out of his hands again, that the queen of Hyrule speaks.

“You’re up awfully early.”

Legend blinks. “Aren’t you here rather early?”

“I have permission.” She sounds back to the world stretched out before her, otherwise unmoving as she watches it. “Sometimes one needs a bit of quiet before they start the day, and a flight does wonders, something I'm sure you’ll learn once you grow into your own wings.”

He frowns, but this time it’s because it’s him considering her, and she, unlike himself, doesn’t slip at all in response. Instead, she just keeps watching the sun slipping up over Hyrule.

Shes not like he thought she’d be Legend decides. But that’s about all he does know to think of her. All in all, he finds her confusing.

“You want to pull back before you reach for the ground, flare your wings out to catch the air, let it push back against you and slow you down, then you’re more upright and your feet stand a chance of coming before your face.”

The words startle him. “What?”

“You’re trying to land, no?” Her own wings shift some as she turns about. “You’re young still, and dare I say learning a lot on your own. You risk yourself without knowledge, and the more you know the safer you’ll be. Knowing how to land without leaving yourself open to anything in the air or on the ground that wants to hurt you is a crucial skill to obtain.”

For lack of a response, he nods, digesting her previous advice and flexing his own wings some to mimic the motion.

“Try it.”

So, he does.

He pulls himself up, dashes his hair from his eyes, and gives it a try.

He trips over his own feet, frustrating himself, but it’s feet that land first, just as she’d said, and even if he does have to drop into a roll, it’s still better than his previous attempts.

Wings beats sound shortly after, and then the queen of Hyrule is standing there, watching him. “You take more after him, I think.” She muses, head tilting on one side and face still unreadable. “But that’s to your favor.”

“What?”

“I give him grief,” she loosens, wings adjusting behind her, shaking themselves rather than tucking in like his own do after a flight. “But he’s a good man. Your appearance shows no sign of him, but your spirit is his; you aren’t giving up because it’s hard, and you’re not folding at the simple sound of a rough word. You do stand a chance in this world.”

And then, without another word, she’s gone, wings flaring and taking off, path clearly headed back for the castle.

And Legend’s left staring after her and wondering what on earth that was.

Turns out, Time tells him later, as they tend the cows in the barn, that’s just Sheik. “Appears, kicks your ass, teaches you something, says something cryptic, and leaves.”

“Wondered where you got that from,” twilight snorts from where he’s adding hay to the feeding troughs, eyes dancing with unsounded laughter as he stares at his mentor, but when Time looks up to the younger man in confusion, the rancher is already headed up for the hayloft yet again for more.

It happens again the next morning. They’d left the previous day to deal with a small gathering of monsters, but returned to the ranch at the days end, dropping swords to catch up pitchforks and shovels and helping Malon wrap up the chores for the night before sleepily eating dinner and going to bed. Still, despite the strain of the prior day, Legend still finds himself waking early, and with time on his hands, elects to practice with the advice he’d been handed.

Well, not just that. Time has a small training yard in one of the old paddocks that looks like it’s currently out of season, grass nipped to the root already by the bovine occupants who’ve since been moved to literal greener pastures. There’s a few dummies there and, after the prior days battling, Legend’s itching to figure out, and correct, a mistake he’d made prior.

It’s hard fighting with wings, remaining airborne or even just using them to his advantage rather than letting the just block his vision and throw him off balance. Not that he’s getting any better against stationary foes, but at least he’s not at risk while he practices spins and turns and slashes. Not that that stops him falling on his ass still, but nothing worth doing comes easy, or so he’s been told.

“You’re too loose.”

He has no clue where she came from, but his hand sis on his sword and body turned and ready towards the sound of her voice.

She’s just standing there though, leant against the fence with not a hair out of place, although that changes as she steps closer, crossed arms loosening into something resembling a boxing pose. “Close to the body, guard yourself. Wings can mend, your neck can’t. Use them to guard it and strike out only when you’re certain of your target.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

She blinks; it’s sort of like how Wolfie does it when they’re being dumb. “Why am I ensuring another hero doesn’t die because he was under-prepared?”

And the words sting, although not just his pride. “You know about that?”

“I turned back time for him,” she answers, low, a slight crease of a frown taking otherwise unchanging features. “Just because he doesn’t remember the worlds that created, doesn’t mean I don’t either.” She steps closer, wings flaring out sightly. “It’s a gift of our line; knowing time. Knowing the future, the present the past, and that outside our line. If you’re spared that, consider it a blessing, but yes, I know his many fates.”

And again, without a chance for him to answer, she’s giving one great swoop and taking off, leaving him confused, frustrated, and left with only wooden dummies to take it out on. She’s right though; treating his wings like he does his arms when he’s boxing, keeping them held close and pushing the out on either side of himself or flaring them is far more effective than using the for balance as Sun had done.

This time though, he keeps their conversation to himself. Time asks, while they do the milking, but his only answer is “same as last time.” No need to dm the morning with talk of death after all, even he knows this.

The third morning when it happens, he doesn’t jump as much.

That’s not to say he doesn’t jump, but this time he doesn’t swing first thing or almost drop from the top of the barn down onto the ground in a head of bones ad blood or...goop (he’s actually not sure what damage a drop like that would do, if any).

He’s trying again this time, and when her voice sounds to correct, he stops rather than shifts to mimic her, and rather than ask “why” yet again, he says “why are you here?”

Her hairs loose this time, face less smooth, with heavy shadows beneath bi-colored eyes, and it almost makes him take back his question, but he doesn’t he doesn’t ad for a moment, she doesn’t answer either. Instead, she just stares at him. Stares, blinks, and keeps staring until a familiar front of thorns begs to be employed again as discomfort stirs up in answer to her gaze.

“Why act all cryptic and weird? Why...” why him? Sure, a descendant, a hero to a world she knew lost theirs, but... why him specifically? There are other heroes here, other heroes, including one that will care for the world after she’s left it! This world! Maybe not this era, but this timeline! Where’s Twilight’s random info-bombs and weirdness from this lady?

And then she just keeps staring, hardly even blinking. “Why not?” And he half expects her to take off right then and there.

“I mean, it’s confusing.”

“Keeps you on your toes,” she answers, almost before he’s finished. “Keeps you guessing, keeps you trying.” Her head cocks on one side again. “You’re a hero, and an accomplished one if you’re called to join others who are the same, but you’re unbalanced now. Maybe your wings are new, maybe you’ve never used them before,” her own sweep out, but only the one, like a gesture, a wide one, the kind that makes his eyes flit towards the tips of her feathers for just a moment, just in case, before turning back to her face.

He's not scared of her exactly, threatening presence regardless; he knows she isn’t going to hurt him, and he’s learned by now that she’d have no reason to, but he’s still confused, and she’s still a stranger to him, one he can’t understand no matter how hard he thinks about it.

A slip of a smile tugs her lips, cool and almost chilling if not for the rods that follow, “I was that way once. You have many heroes around you, but none with wings, or at least not the same sort as you. Besides, it’s as I said yesterday; our kind know things. Perhaps you don’t, but I do. I know of sisters throughout time who shared similar struggles, and stood alone. I cannot help them. You’re no sister, you’re too young and while not necessarily unfeminine, you’re still just a boy.” She smirks, “but I suppose there is room for a son in Hylia’s fold, and I know many wouldn’t mind having a little brother, so while I cannot help my sisters, I will do my best by those I can reach. After all, as queen, it’s the least as can be expected of me.”

Again, he thinks that’s where she’ll spread her wings, but on the dawn of the third day, she lingers long enough for a few more questions before she departs, and this time, when Twilight and Time ask him, curious as they mind the milking, Legend lets on at least a bit of what he was told.

When he does, Time actually stops and stares at him from across the aisle in the barn. “She actually answered your questions?” And then, at his confirmation, the man blinks slowly and turns to glare at the spotted hide of the cow before him. “Oh, so she is capable, she just picks favorites, I see how it is.”

Twilight’s laughter is a good sound to start the day, all the more as he lets a bit of his own slip to join it while their leader grumbles and huffs under his breath all the rest of the way through milking and up to the house.

#lu lullaby #Feathered au #flight to my heart #lu legend #Christmas of closure #linked universe #linkeduniverse #Ketto writes #lu time #lu malon #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu twilight

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