#midna... did not turn out right at all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smilesrobotlover · 7 months ago

Text

First|| <-previous next->

AO3

Chapter 8- A Soldier’s Visit to Faron

Link woke up to the sound of talking. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window where the sun was shining through. He listened more carefully and recognized his pa’s voice speaking outside and he frowned. What was he doing outside? Link stood up and shuffled over to the window, looking out to see Rusl speaking with Auru. His pa’s arms were crossed, and a serious look was on his face while Auru had a more concerned expression. Rusl started speaking again and Link opened the window to hear him better.

“...I only wish I was stronger,” his pa said softly. Auru tilted his head.

“Rusl–”

“I know! I’m only human, I’m weaker than most of y’all but… I… he’s my son. I should be protecting him but… I can’t.”

Link frowned. Was he talking about him?

“Rusl, even a Hylian wouldn’t be strong enough to fight against a mysterious shadow monster. Be kinder to yourself.”

Rusl sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I know… I know… It’s just terrifying, you know? It’s terrifying to discover that you can’t protect your family. If that thing got closer to Ordon and took–” his breath hitched and Auru rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t think about that. The beast did not get to Ordon. It didn’t hurt Uli or Colin or Rela or anyone.”

“It did hurt Link though…”

“Well, fortunately it didn’t hurt him too bad, right?”

Rusl shrugged. “Not as bad as me… But I don’t want him to have the responsibility of saving me. Not again.”

Link’s feelings grew conflicted. Was his pa ashamed of having to be rescued by him? Link supposed he understood to an extent. Since becoming a father himself, he’s wanted nothing more than to protect Kori and Midna with his life. If Kori had to save him… he’d probably be ashamed of himself too.

“That’s what you get for raising a heroic boy, Rusl,” Auru joked, and Rusl gave him an annoyed smile.

“It’s not my fault he turned out that way.”

“Oh shut it, of course it is!”

“No it isn’t, Link turned out that way because that’s the way he is.”

“Colin and Rela are the same way though, I think it is your fault.”

“Spirits!” Rusl lightly punched Auru in the arm and the old man chuckled.

“Oh c’mere,” Auru pulled Rusl into a hug, which he melted into. “It sounds like you two went through a lot, I’m sorry.”

From Auru’s large frame and Rusl’s smaller stature, it almost looked like a child hugging his father from Link’s perspective. It made his heart ache for Kori.

He prayed to every deity on the planet to keep him safe from the shadow beast.

The two men pulled away and started to head inside, and Link pulled away from the window as well, letting out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t appropriate for him to eavesdrop on such a conversation, but he couldn’t stop himself. To get his pa to open up about things that bothered him was like trying to pry a deku baba’s jaw open after it closed. But Link didn’t know if he regretted learning how Rusl truly felt about everything. He felt guilty, sad, and mostly confused from it all. He almost wished he was the one to be attacked by the shadow beast, that way his pa wasn’t hurt and traumatized the way he was. Link had dealt with far worse in his life; it would’ve been no different.

He finally went to close the window until he heard shuffling beside him, and movement from the corner of his eye caused him to nearly jump out of his skin. A person was turning around on the bed opposite from the other one Link was in, and Link backed up in shock. How in Din’s name did he not notice this person? Based on the clothes, he recognized the person as Sheik, but when he saw their face, his heart stopped.

It was Zelda who was staring back at him with wide eyes.

“Oh–”

Zelda felt her face and her eyes landed on her discarded mark and headwrap on the floor, and a string of curses from her mouth left Link more shocked. He didn’t know Zelda was even capable of swearing. Zelda scrambled for the clothes and nearly tumbled out of her bed while Link remained paralyzed. She finally stood up, her face covered up, yet her stormy-gray eyes couldn’t hide her identity. How did he not know?

“You—” he started, but Zelda stopped him.

“N-no… no I—”

“You– you’re—” Link’s mind was racing, and he was finally able to string a full sentence together. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Th-this was meant to be my room! I didn’t– you– I–” Zelda let out another cuss word which felt like a punch to Link’s face. She never acted in such a way around him; she was always so proper and polite. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the floor with wide eyes.

“I don’t believe it– oh Goddesses you–”

Rusl burst through the door, interrupting the two.

“Oh Sheik! Link! Glad you’re both awake!” He said cheerily, leaning against the door frame. Link and Sheik only stared at him in shock. “Ya know, Sheik. You scared the living daylights outta me when you came in last night. You poor thing—must’ve been exhausted!”

Zelda and Link continued to stare in shock, and Rusl frowned.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Zelda—or Sheik—said breathlessly, before moving past Rusl towards the stairs. Rusl stared back at her for a moment before looking back at Link, clearly confused.

“What the heck happened there?”

“I… uh…” Link bit his lip, wondering what he should tell Rusl. Zelda had clearly kept this identity a secret for a reason—was it right to tell his father? “Uh… I was just surprised to see Sheik in here, that’s all,” he finally said, laughing nervously. Rusl stared for a moment before laughing slightly.

“Yeah, he must’ve been awfully tired, huh?” He chuckled, and Link nodded, forcing a smile. The two stared for a moment, Rusl’s smile fading more and more as Link’s fake smile grew bigger. “Well, Telma has some breakfast for us so… you can… come down–”

“Oh! Yes! Sounds great! Thanks pa!” Link said a little too loudly, and marched towards the stairs.

Breakfast was painfully awkward. Link couldn’t help but stare at Sheik, who looked terrified. She would glance at him and Link would look away, only for him to go back to staring at her. The others didn’t notice the tension between them, instead they were chatting happily with each other, unaware of the recent discovery Link made.

Did they know? Did Zelda want to keep it a secret from only him? Or were they just as oblivious as he was before? His mind wandered to Ashei, with their conversation about Sheik before. Did she know? She seemed to know about Sheik not being a man, but was it because she knew that Sheik was Zelda? His mind was racing as he thought about it, not paying attention to the other’s conversations.

“… and she just picked it up!” Rusl exclaimed, his hands gesturing in front of Link’s face, interrupting his staring. “I tell you, that girl was born to fight. We should start teaching Kori some sword fighting too, right Link?”

Link glanced at his father, then at everyone else staring at him.

“W-what?” He muttered, and Rusl raised an eyebrow.

“I was just telling them about Rela, and her first sword-fighting lesson! Kori is ten now, I think it’s about time he started learnin’ too!”

“Oh! Yes, right,” Link quickly said, going back to watching Sheik. Rusl continued to stare at him, the others doing the same.

“Uh, is everything alright, old boy?” Shad asked, looking between him and Sheik.

“Oh—“ Rusl adjusted himself in his seat and pointed at Sheik. “He just broke into our room last night and scared me stiff. I’m sure he must’ve shocked Link this morning.”

Link saw Ashei worriedly turn her head to Sheik, who remained unmoving.

“Oh my goddesses, Rusl,” Auru groaned, “did you take the first room? Sheik is always the one in there!”

“Since when did we have room assignments?” Rusl argued.

“It’s an unspoken rule! Sheik takes the first room. I take the third one, Ashei takes the second and Shad takes the room across, and you and Link take the room in the back!”

“But they ain’t labeled!”

“That’s—ugh, boy…. That’s why it’s unspoken!”

Sheik got up abruptly as the two argued and left the bar. Link stood up as well and followed. He had so many questions for her, and he wanted answers. He found Sheik right outside the bar, and she didn’t look surprised to see Link.

“Link,” she started, and he stopped right in front of her.

“Zelda.”

“Don’t… ah…”

“Oh—right. Sorry. Sheik,” Link pursed his lips and the two sat in silence. Every question he had was gone in an instant. It almost saddened him—they worked well together during the twilight invasion, yet their relationship was never strengthened. Zelda wanted him to be a knight and to be a representative for Hyrule, but Link didn’t want to be stuck with nobles doing useless things; much less being some trophy for the people to gawk at. It put a strain on their relationship, and he didn’t expect to be speaking to Zelda ever again.

Then again, they’ve been speaking for a while now, yet he didn’t know.

“Sorry my pa took your room,” he finally said.

“Oh… it’s alright.”

Link smiled awkwardly and nodded. Sheik nodded back. There was silence again between the two, and Link cleared his throat.

“So… Sheik. What—um—why?”

“Why what?”

Link huffed and ran his hand through his hair. “Why? Why didn’t you tell us? Why are you doing this? I just… I’m curious…”

Sheik’s brows furrowed together and she looked down. “I just… wanted to do more for my kingdom.”

Link frowned. “But you’re the queen. You do more for Hyrule than anyone else!”

Sheik shook her head. “Not enough.” She sighed and sat on a box, rubbing her eyes. “During the twilight invasion, I felt… helpless. I couldn’t do anything for anyone. I was a prisoner in my own home, and all I could do was trust you. I just… I never want to be out of control like that ever again. I want to personally save Hyrule myself if it were to come to it. I felt that… as Sheik… I could do that. I wasn’t a queen anymore I-I felt more like… I don’t know… a protector. I feel like I can actually make an impact doing this.”

Link gave her a sad look and joined her on the box, staring at the door that led to Telma’s bar. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he started softly. “You did so much during the invasion. You… you kept Zant from slaughtering everyone in Hyrule. You saved my life and you saved Midna’s life at your own expense. You helped me defeat Ganondorf,” Link looked up at her, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “I couldn’t have saved Hyrule if not for you.”

“But… I couldn’t do more—“

“Goddesses, Sheik, I thought you gave up your life for Midna’s! I thought you died! What more could you have done?”

Sheik finally looked up at him. “I don’t know.”

“Good!” Link crossed his arms and sat up straight. “Now you know. You’re good enough!” Link felt his face flush at the corny message, and he turned away. The two were silent again; the sounds of laughter and bottles crashing were the only sounds heard. Link let out a sigh and turned to Sheik again. “I can understand though, wanting to do things yourself. I guess if I had to give orders and then sit there and wait for it to get done, I’d lose my mind a bit too.”

Sheik looked up at him, and though he couldn’t see her expression well, he did see a glimmer in her eye.

“I’m glad you somewhat understand,” she said.

Link hummed and nodded, and he pursed his lips. “So… why didn’t you tell the resistance?”

“It defeats the purpose of a secret identity, doesn’t it? I can't go around saying that I’m the queen when I… look like this,” she gestured to her outfit. “If they knew that I was not on the throne, they’d probably think me to be lazy.”

“Well, you’re not. You’re a good queen.”

Sheik’s eyes had more of a smile to them from that. “Thank you.”

Link gave her a smile. For once, they were having a pleasant conversation. No evil trying to destroy the world, no enemies needing to be defeated, and no heart broken from a love supposedly killed. They were just two people. Seeing Zelda as Sheik, he saw her in a different light. A simple woman who was trying.

“How did Kori come to be?” Sheik suddenly asked, and Link’s eyes widened. The resistance only met Kori a handful of times, and he didn’t think about how it would’ve affected Sheik. She and Rusl were the only ones who knew about Midna. Rusl found out about Midna’s return, but Zelda never did…

“Uh…. Well… I don’t know what you’re asking specifically but… Twili’s bodies aren’t too different from ours,” he mumbled.

Sheik’s face flushed slightly and she shook her head. “T-that’s not what I meant.”

Link cursed in his mind and laughed nervously. “Oh! Well… sorry.”

“No no, I should’ve been more specific. I meant… How is Kori here? Midna destroyed the mirror, there should be no connection to the twilight realm.”

“Oh… well…” Link stared at the ground, watching bits of dust move with the light breeze. He let out a sigh. “I have no idea. One night, Midna came to my door with Kori in her arms… and now he’s here.”

Sheik studied his face for a moment. “Is Midna still here?”

Link paused. Should he tell her that Midna visited whenever she could? Would Sheik feel left out if she knew that she only visited Link and his family? Did she even care? He didn’t know how close the two were during the invasion; he knew they were acquainted before he came along, but Midna didn’t seem to like her in the beginning. In the end, they were more like allies than friends. But was he wrong?”

“She… visits,” he finally said, and Sheik’s saddened look made him regret saying it.

“I see,” she whispered.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t… you guys… I didn’t know you were friends and—“

“We weren’t,” Sheik said bluntly. “I suppose we never were.”

That stung slightly, hearing that about Midna. He wondered why she wouldn’t tell Sheik about everything, but he shouldn’t be surprised. If Kori never got hurt in the twilight realm, she probably would’ve never come in the first place.

“If it makes you feel any better, she never came back for me,” he started in a cautious tone, “she came back for Kori.” Sheik gave him a confused look so he elaborated. “I don’t know if you remember, but he has a scar up along his arm,” Link traced his forearm to show where the scar was, and Sheik watched carefully. “Apparently, when he was two, an advisor hurt him because… he was scared Kori would doom the Twili. There’s only one female Twili, and she’s meant to give birth to the heir, who will also be a female. But Kori… not only was he a half Twili, but he was a boy. And… They hurt him.” Link frowned. It was difficult saying it all out loud. The familiar rage that he thought he moved on from began to bubble in his chest, and he had to clench his fists to control it. If he ever met the Twili that hurt his son…

“So… you didn’t know about Kori?” Sheik asked, and Link nodded.

“She knew he wouldn’t be safe in the twilight realm, so she found a way back to Ordon. I still have no idea how she’s going back and forth though. She refuses to tell me, but I think she’s afraid of another invasion happening and… destroying the mirror to be a waste.”

Sheik nodded, but she still had a sad look in her eyes.

“Look, Sheik, she’s very secretive. Only my family knows and that’s ‘cause my pa knew her and… she’s never made herself known to anyone. So…. Yeah…. And she’s never left Ordon either.”

Sheik looked down at her fidgeting hands. “I see…”

Link frowned, the silence entering their conversation again. They sat for a long moment, until Link had an idea.

“You know, Sheik… I’m sure Midna would love to see you again.” She looked up, giving him a confused look. “If you ever wanna… I dunno… turn into Sheik and visit Ordon… We’d love to have you. I make great pumpkin soup.”

Sheik stared at him with wide eyes, before turning away with a small laugh. “I might… take you up on that offer,” she said softly, and Link’s heart swelled. They smiled at each other, and Sheik looked like she was about to say something, but they were interrupted by the door opening. Ashei poked her head through the door and gave the two of them a look.

“Is everything ok out here?” She asked.

“Yes, Ashei everything is fine,” Sheik said, giving Link a look. “He… sort of found out about… me…”

Ashei sighed. “I was afraid that was the case.”

Link glanced between the both of them. “So you did know about her?”

Ashei nodded. “Don’t know if you remember when we were investigating the rogue Bulblins, but our queen here got herself injured. It’s kinda hard to take care of an injured person with a mask covering their mouth, yeah?”

Link shrugged. “I guess so. It certainly explains a lot.”

Sheik nodded awkwardly and sighed. “It was difficult for me at the moment, but I am glad that I didn’t have to hide my true identity from at least one person. But now I guess it’s two people.”

Ashei made a face. “I have a feeling the rest of them will be finding out soon.”

An annoyed sigh escaped Sheik and she nodded. Ashei shrugged and gestured to the bar with her head. “Come on inside, yeah? We’re going to start planning.”

Link and Sheik stood up to follow Ashei inside, but Link stopped Sheik before they headed inside.

“You ready to save Hyrule again?” He asked, his fist hanging in front of her. She stared at it for a moment, then nodded, bumping his waiting fist with her own.

“I’m more than ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kori! Pay attention!”

Kori looked up at Rela who had her wooden sword resting on her shoulder. She glared at him, one hand on her hip and one foot tapping impatiently in the Ordon spring water. Kori glanced at his own wooden sword, pouting at his aunt.

“Rela, I don’t wanna do this.”

“Shut it! You’re old enough to learn sword fighting, and my pa ain’t here to teach you. So it’s up to me to do it!” Her sword was swung to the ground and she held it up against Kori. “There’s a monster out there in Faron woods, so we need to be able to defend ourselves and Ordon!”

“Isn’t that why Colin and Beth and Talo are here though?” Colin and the others had been patrolling Ordon, searching for any dangers that could threaten their home. Kori didn’t quite understand what was happening; no one told him anything when he asked. His pa and grandpa left to castle town before he had a chance to think, so he was staying with his gramma, confused about what was happening.

“Colin may need our help if we are attacked,” Rela started to argue, marching back and forth as the sword swung in her hands. “If we’re able to help them, we’ll be heroes! Isn’t that what you want Kori? To be a hero?”

“Not really. I just wanna be a farmer,” Kori said simply. Rela groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Why are you being so boring?”

Kori felt a sting in his heart, but he ignored it. “I’m not being boring! I just… I just wanna play with my toys!”

“Well too bad! Now, block this attack!”

Kori gasped as Rela swung her sword at him. He quickly brought his own up and staggered back as she hit it. He glanced at his sword, then glared at Rela.

“Don’t hit it so hard!”

“You need to block better! Stand your ground!”

Rela swung at him again and he squealed as it smashed against his own. Rela got closer to him and he started to run away, but Rela quickly stopped him.

“Don’t be a coward! Face me!”

“Rela, you’re so much bigger than me! I’m scared!” Kori pleaded, but she only charged at him again. She knocked into him and he fell backwards into the water. He gasped and looked up to see Rela swinging down onto him. He quickly brought his own sword up and was barely able to block it. Scrambling to his feet, he clumsily blocked a few more attacks. Kori grew more focused with each attack, planting his feet so he could stay unmoving in the sparring. She hit his sword a few more times until Kori slipped up, and Rela’s smacked his arm. Kori squealed in pain and dropped his sword, holding his aching arm.

“Ooooow! Rela! You hit me!” He cried, tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh you’re fine. This is why we train with wooden swords, so we don’t end up killing each other!” She took a step forward, her arms crossed. “If it were the real deal, you would’ve lost your arm.”

Kori huffed angrily at her. “I’m telling Gramma!”

Rela’s eyes went big, her tough demeanor dropping instantly, and she quickly jumped in front of Kori as he went to leave the spring. “N-no no no! Please don’t tell my ma! I’m so sorry Kori!”

Kori ignored his aunt’s begging, trying to push past her.

“Wait! Kori! We can play with our toys now, ok? We can do whatever you want! In fact—here!” Rela grabbed Kori and put her sword in his hand. “You can hit me back! Just please don’t tell my ma!”

Kori glared at her as she kept grabbing his arm, then he bit her hand. Rela shrieked and pulled her hand back, giving Kori a horrified look.

“You bit me!”

“Well you said I could hurt you back!”

“I said you could hit me back, not bite me!”

Kori crossed his arms and turned away. “Well you wouldn’t stop grabbing me! I’m tired of playin’ with swords! I’m going back home!”

Kori marched through the water, feeling Rela’s glare at the back of his head. He suddenly felt water splash onto his head, and he gasped as his clothes and hair got fully drenched. He spun around at Rela and snarled at her.

“What? You were wet anyways,” Rela said.

“That’s it!” Kori screamed as he charged at the Rela, and the two started to grapple and become tangled with each other. Rela was much older and stronger than Kori was, so she easily pinned him down, but he kept biting her hands which caused her to pull back.

“Stop biting me!” She yelled.

“Well stop pulling at my hair!” Kori yelled back as she tugged at his hair. The two wrestled for a while longer until they were interrupted.

“What are you two doing?”

The kids stopped and looked up at Uli who was glaring at the two. She was panting and her hands were balled up, a fire in her eyes as she watched the two kids. The two quickly scrambled to their feet, staring at her guiltily. Uli relaxed a little, then glanced at the bridge past Ordon worriedly.

“You kids aren’t supposed to be out here,” she scolded, walking towards the two.

“We’re still in Ordon,” Rela sassed, but she quickly straightened herself out with a glare from Uli. “I-I mean… you said we had to stay in Ordon so… we are still… here… in Ordon.”

“No, you’re staying in the village itself. We’re not gonna be out by the spring or by Kori’s house, ok?”

Rela and Kori glanced at each other.

“Why?” Kori asked, trying not to sound rude or sassy.

“Because it’s too far from the others. If something were to happen, no one would know. Now come on,” Uli gestured to the village with her head, and Kori and Rela quickly followed.

“I hope you two have done your chores,” Uli started as they walked past Kori’s home, “it’s pretty early in the morning, is it not?”

Rela gave Kori a worried look, then looked down guiltily. “Um…. We did some…”

Uli sighed. “Why did you do some and not all?”

Rela huffed and jogged in front of her ma. “Because! I know there’s a monster out there hurting people! It attacked pa and Link! I just want to make sure me and Kori are strong enough for when it attacks again!”

Uli stopped and gave Rela a sad yet proud look. “Rela, it’ll be fine. Your pa and Link are taking care of it, while Colin and the others are protecting Ordon. You don’t have to be responsible for our safety.”

“But—“

“I know you’re excited to use your sword techniques your pa taught you, but it’s not enough. For now—just—focus on your chores, ok?”

Rela pouted and glumly walked to her house, her head hanging. Kori stood by his gramma, leaning his head against her leg. She chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“Did you do your chores today, Kori?”

Kori pursed his lips. Rela had lied about them doing some of their chores. They actually did none of their chores. But unlike Rela, Kori was a horrible liar.

“N-no… we didn’t do anything,” he mumbled, but then quickly added, “I mean, I didn't do anything! Rela did though!”

Uli gave him a soft smile. “You don’t have to cover for Rela, dear. I know she was lying.”

“Oh…”

Uli let out a loud sigh and rubbed her head. “Go and do your chores dear, luckily there’s not a whole lot for you to do since you’re not at home right now.”

Excitement swelled within Kori and he nodded. He heard his gramma giggle as he ran to the home, barged into his room, and ran past Rela who was grumbling to herself. He quickly picked up his area in his grandparent’s home, plucked the weeds in the gardens, and collected the ripe fruit, though there wasn’t a lot. There wasn’t much else for him to do—he couldn’t help Fado with the goats since he was too small, and he couldn’t clean up his home since he wasn’t allowed in there. So he started to wander around Ordon, watching the villagers go about their day. He couldn’t help but focus on Coro, the man who started staying with Fado. Kori had rarely talked to Coro before, and the man’s carefree attitude and animals that hung around enticed him. But Kori was too shy to approach the strange man—he didn’t know how Coro would react to him.

The best way for Kori to learn more about Coro was to sneakily follow him around Ordon. It was always easy for Kori to stalk the humans in Ordon; their round ears didn’t pick up on sounds like his and his papa’s did, so he followed the man around for a while without being noticed. He watched Coro simply sit by the pond for a long time, talking to his funny bird pet who chattered to him back. Smaller birds floated around his head, and even nestled inside it, and the cuccos trotted around him. Kori wondered if birds generally liked him, and how he could make birds like him as well.

Kori’s stalking didn’t go unnoticed forever, however, and Coro spotted him hiding behind a bush. The two made eye contact, and Kori ducked for cover, but it was already too late.

“Uh, hello,” Coro called out awkwardly, and Kori shyly popped up from the bushes. Coro smiled gently and gestured for him to come closer. “No reason to hide, tiny guy.”

Kori looked behind him and shuffled over to the strange man.

“Hi,” he greeted quietly, and the parrot resting on Coro’s knee squawked a greeting back. Kori jumped at the sudden sound and Coro chuckled.

“Trill, you don’t need to be that loud,” he said.

“Sorry,” the bird squawked, not any quieter than before. Kori giggled slightly and held his hand out to Trill.

“Careful, he might peck at you,” Coro warned, and Kori drew his hand back, giving Coro a guilty look. Coro reached up and gently grabbed the smaller birds in his hair and offered it to Kori. “These guys are much nicer.”

Kori smiled and offered his hand again, and the tiny bird peeped, hopping into it. Kori giggled at the tickling feeling of its tiny feet against his palm and gently stroked its little head.

“That one is named Chickie,” Coro started to explain, “he was born not too long ago.”

Kori’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yep! His family is here somewhere,” Coro started digging around in his hair, pulling out different tiny birds from the nest on his hair and showing them to Kori. He made a whistling sound and the birds floated over to Kori and landed on his arms and head. Kori froze, feeling the tiny talons lightly digging into his skin. Coro chuckled again. “They’re friendly! Don’t worry.”

Kori grinned and watched the birds hop around, giggling as they tickled him when they moved.

“Yeah, Trill here is nice enough, but you need to be careful. He can be a little aggressive if you freak him out,” Coro explained, petting Trill gently. “He’s had so many people steal from him, he has to be aggressive, you know?” Kori nodded seriously. “Apparently, a few years ago, some green guy kept stealing his lamp oil and red potion, no matter how many times he fought back! Can you believe that? What kind of horrible person steals from a bird?”

Kori nodded again. His pa always taught him to not steal, so he knew to take that very seriously. One of the birds flew back to Coro’s nest-hair so Kori allowed the others to return as well.

“Um, thank you for letting me hold your birds,” Kori mumbled, and Coro grinned.

“Of course! It’s easy to be scared of animals, especially birds, but I always think we should be more understanding of them. It’s best to learn young, anyway!” Coro lifted the smaller birds to his hair and gave Kori a look. “So… if you don’t mind me asking, tiny guy, what exactly are you?”

Kori thought for a moment. “A Twilian.”

Coro frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that. Well, it’s nice to officially meet you, tiny guy.”

Kori nodded excitedly. “My name is Kori.”

“I’m Coro.” He offered his hand to Kori and he gingerly took it, letting Coro shake their hands. Coro pulled away and went back to petting Trill. “Do you like animals, Kori? I assume that’s why you decided to follow me.”

“Oh! Yeah, I love animals.”

“What’s your favorite animal?”

“I love kitties.”

Coro smiled warmly. “I think I saw kitties by Sera’s shop, did you see them?”

Kori nodded, but a sense of dread entered him when he thought about Sera. He hadn’t seen the kitties in a while.

“That’s good, they’re so cute and tiny,” Coro continued when Kori didn’t say anything. “But I’m more of a bird person myself. I forget how great the cuccos are here in Ordon.”

Kori nodded again and looked around him, spotting Rela who was stomping around the village. They made eye contact and his aunt began to angrily stomp towards him. Uh-oh.

“I think cuccos are misunderstood creatures,” Coro continued to ramble, not caring if Kori was paying attention or not. “As long as you respect them, they respect you. That’s why you should always treat animals with respect. Because respect is a two-way path and—”

“Kori!” Rela shouted when she got close enough and put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be doin’ chores?”

Kori glanced at Coro who was still rambling about animals. “I got them all done! There wasn’t a whole lot since I’m not at home right now.”

Rela huffed and said a bad word under her breath. “W-well, help me with mine so I can get done!”

Kori scrunched up his face. “I’m not gonna do your chores! You have to do them yourself!”

“But what will you do? You’ll be sooo bored.”

Kori gestured to Coro who finally stopped talking and was observing the two kids. Rela squinted her eyes and faced him fully.

“Weren’t you the guy who came here crying like a baby?” She sneered.

“Yes,” Coro said simply. “And if you saw what I saw, you’d be crying like a baby too.”

Rela seemed surprised at the response and she turned away, her arms crossed. “Well, Kori needs to help me with my chores so we can hang out—”

“No I don’t!” Kori shouted.

“Yes you do! You still need more training!”

Kori groaned. “We’ve been training all morning! I don’t want to do that!”

Coro glanced between the two. “Training? For what?”

Rela gave him a look but once again faced him. “Training to protect Ordon of course!”

Coro’s eyes widened and he nodded slowly. “Ok.”

“So I need to get done as soon as possible so we can keep training and—” Rela’s eyes widened and her hands shot up to her head. “Oh no! The swords!”

Kori raised an eyebrow and Rela suddenly grabbed his hands, pulling him away from Coro.

“H-hey, wha—Bye!” Kori called out to Coro, and the man waved back. “Rela! What’s going on?”

“I left the swords at the spring!” Rela cried. “They’re gonna get ruined in the water! And pa will be so mad if he finds out I left them soaked!”

Kori tried to pull free from her grip, but she was too strong. “But we’re not supposed to go to the spring!”

Rela stopped and spun around to face Kori. “We won’t be gone for too long, ok? We’re just gonna grab them and come right back! But I need to get those before they’re ruined forever!”

Kori frowned but was immediately grabbed and pulled behind Rela again. The two sprinted towards the spring, Kori feeling more and more anxious as he looked around the forest. Every bone in his body was telling him to leave and that he wasn’t supposed to be there. But he continued to follow Rela, not wanting either of them to be left alone in these woods. They made it to the spring and Rela sprinted to the water, grabbing the soaked wooden swords.

“Thank the spirits I remembered these!” She said, relieved. “Hopefully they’re not ruined…”

Kori stared at the wooden swords and sighed. “Can we go back now? We’re not supposed to be here.”

Rela rolled her eyes. “Ok, yes we can go.”

The two kids started to leave the spring, but Kori heard a strange noise. He frowned and turned his head to hear it better. It sounded like the trotting of a horse. He found himself wandering closer to the bridge, and he spotted something walking towards him and Rela.

“What is it?” His aunt asked, but Kori was frozen. Whether it was of fear or anticipation, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t move his eyes off of the moving figure. As the figure got closer, he recognized it as a rider on a horse, and he got filled with excitement.

“PAPA!” He shouted, running across the bridge and towards the horse. But as he got closer, he realized that the horse was not Epona, and the man riding the horse was neither his grandpa nor his papa. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the strange man with wide eyes, and the rider stopped, the five other horses and men stopping as well. The man stared back at Kori, his green eyes observing him. Rela caught up to Kori and quickly got in front of him, glaring at the man.

“Hello,” he greeted, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“What do you want?” Rela spat, and Kori was surprised at her hostility towards an adult.

“Easy now, me and my men are just investigating some disappearances,” he explained. He hopped off his horse and took off his helmet. The man had brown hair that stopped beneath his chin, and Kori noticed his delicately pointed ears that labeled him a Hylian. His tan brown skin made his emerald eyes stick out and his mustache was curled up in a gentle smile. He bowed his head slightly with his right hand over his heart. “My name is Hoz, I am the captain of the Hylian guard. I just have some questions I need to ask the villagers near this area. May I speak with the adults there?”

Rela puffed her chest and crossed her arms. “You can speak to us.”

Hoz stared at her for a moment, then glanced at the soldiers behind him. “Uh… I’d prefer to speak to an adult. Where are your parents?”

Rela frowned. “We can speak just fine!”

Hoz began to look around, noticeably uncomfortable. “Right, well, is your village just down the trail?”

“I’m not telling you!” Rela yelled.

“Yes,” Kori answered softly. Rela spun around and shot him a glare while Hoz smiled warmly.

“Thank you. It’s quite a long walk isn’t it? Would you kids like to hitch a ride on my mount?” He gestured to his large speckled horse, but Rela quickly shook her head.

“My parents told me I shouldn’t ride with strangers.”

Hoz chuckled and bowed his head again. “Understood.”

“Hey now! You can’t go to the village!” Rela hopped in front of him as he started to move, pointing her wooden sword at him. “We’re on high alert right now! There’s somethin’ out in the woods, so me and Kori are here to keep it safe! You got that?”

Hoz’s eyes widened at the wooden sword and he gently redirected the sword and started to walk forward. “I promise we mean no harm to your village—”

Rela repointed her sword at him. Hoz took a deep breath and moved it again.

“We’re just investigating some disappearances and—” Rela insisted with her sword once again, and he gave up on moving past it. “Whatever information your parents may have will be useful for the protection of Hyrule.”

Rela squinted her eyes and Kori heard the soldiers behind Hoz groan.

“Will you just move, you little brat?” One of them called out, and Hoz shot them a warning glare.

“Listen, we don’t have time for this,” Hoz sighed, rubbing his eyes. “You said there was something in the woods, correct?”

Rela squinted her eyes, not saying anything. Kori walked up to Hoz and the captain glanced at him.

“I think my papa was attacked by a monster,” he said softly, and Hoz’s eyes went big.

“What monster?” Hoz asked, kneeling at Kori’s level.

Kori shrugged, staring at the ground. He heard more footsteps and he looked up, noticing Colin jogging towards the group.

“What’s going on?” His uncle asked, eyeing the soldiers with a threatening glare. Hoz stood up and gave him a slight bow, looking relieved.

“Hello my good sir, my name is Hoz. I am the captain for the Hylian guard.”

Colin's eyes widened and he nodded. “R-right, of course,” he turned his attention to the kids and grabbed Rela. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be in the village!”

“I left the wooden swords in the spring!” Rela defended herself, gesturing to them.

Colin rolled his eyes and turned to Hoz. “I’m so sorry about my little sister and nephew, they’re not supposed to be out here.”

Hoz waved his apology away. “It’s no trouble. I’m just glad that…” he gave Rela a look, then cleared his throat, “I’m just glad that I can speak with an adult.”

Rela made an offended noise and Colin pushed her behind him.

“Of course! What do you need?”

Hoz straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “These men and I were requested by Queen Zelda to find information on disappearances that have been happening throughout Hyrule. I just wanted to ask if you knew any information on this.”

Kori watched the gears in his uncle’s head turning. Were these disappearances what Barnes was talking about? Colin ran his fingers through his hair and nodded.

“Yes, actually I think I do.”

Hoz’s eyes widened and his polite demeanor dropped instantly. He ran up to Colin and grabbed his arm. “You do? What did you find?” Colin leaned back slightly and Hoz quickly jumped back. “A-apologies. I just… I’ve been searching for a while and haven’t found anything.”

Colin smiled nervously. “I understand.” He glanced at Kori and Rela, then looked up at the captain. “My pa and brother were attacked by a monster a couple of nights ago.”

Hoz stared for a moment, almost looking disappointed. “A monster? Is that it?”

“It‘s not an ordinary monster,” Colin looked back at Kori and Rela again and stepped closer to the captain, speaking so softly that Kori could barely hear him. “Do you remember the twilight invasion, with the black beasts roaming Hyrule?”

Hoz’s eyes widened. “I do remember. They stormed the castle. I could’ve lost my life if Zelda had not surrendered.”

Colin nodded and Rela gave Kori a confused look, hoping he knew what they were saying. Kori almost wished he didn’t; black beasts roaming Hyrule… it sounded terrifying.

“My pa and brother were attacked by one in Faron woods a couple of nights ago. It could still be here, or it could’ve moved around,” Colin continued, looking around at the trees nervously. “But it’s what’s taking these people. I don’t know what it’s doing to them, but it can’t be anything good.”

Hoz nodded and smiled at him, resting his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, young man. For once, we actually have a lead now!” He turned around to his men and nodded, gesturing to Faron. “We’ll investigate these woods, the rest of you should remain indoors—“

“No no no, wait,” Colin moved in front of Hoz, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t think you should go hunting for it. It’s… it’s dangerous.”

“I know,” Hoz said, “I fought several of them and I don’t think I ever killed one. They were always revived before my very eyes.” Hoz glanced at the children. “But I think me and five other men can handle one.”

Colin shook his head, once again stopping the captain. “My older brother fought and killed hundreds of them. He couldn’t even defeat this one. It’s more dangerous; you need a plan.”

Hoz frowned. “Who is your brother may I ask?”

Colin fidgeted slightly and pursed his lips. “He—he’s the hero of Hyrule, sir.”

Hoz stared blankly, then he let out an exasperated sigh. “Alright.”

“I’m not lying!”

“I didn’t say you were lying,” he quickly defended, but his tone didn’t convince Colin. Kori’s uncle gave him a glare, clearly using his taller height to try to intimidate the man, but the captain didn’t waver. “Look, I know a hero of Hyrule existed during the twilight invasion; who else would’ve saved Hyrule if not?”

“Then what’s your issue?” Colin pressed, and Hoz finally began to shift uncomfortably.

“I–I… It’s nothing,” Hoz let out a sigh and looked around. “Show me where this monster was spotted. Me and my men will take care of it.”

Colin pursed his lips, the gears turning in his head as he thought of what to do next, but he finally relaxed and started moving towards Faron Woods.

“It was by a house in front of the caves where it was first spotted,” he started to explain, Hoz following on foot. Kori glanced at Rela who started walking with Colin, a determined look in her eye as she clutched her wooden sword. “It moved around as my older brother and pa fought it though, so I can’t promise it’s still there.”

“That’s quite alright, we can make do,” Hoz said, an excited gleam in his eye. The group was silent as they marched through the woods, and they stopped right outside a house. Kori had seen this place before, but he never visited it. He wondered if Coro lived here.

“Well… Uh… here it is,” Colin said awkwardly, gesturing to the home. “Faron Woods in general is where it was, but this place is where they found it.”

“Fascinating,” Hoz muttered, his eyes fixated on the home as he walked towards it. “Men, look around and let me know if you find anything.” He turned to Colin. “You may return home if you wish. We’ll handle this.”

Colin sighed and nodded, turning to Kori and Rela who stood watching. He began to nudge them back towards Ordon, keeping them from moving away from him.

“You two should’ve gone back home,” he scolded, his hand never leaving Kori’s back.

“But I want to help fight a monster!” Rela protested, but Colin shook his head.

“Trust me, Rela, you are not ready to fight this monster,” he said, a nervous look in his eyes. “I don’t know if these guys will be ready to fight it either….” Colin’s voice trailed off and he stared at the grass with a thoughtful look in his eyes. Rela grumbled and crossed her arms, glaring at the grass as well. Kori only stared ahead, spotting the Faron spring coming into view. But as he got a better view, he noticed something that made him freeze in fear.

A large, black creature stood out from the bright, colorful spring. Arms hung awkwardly on its back as it paced the holy waters, and it turned to the group, with its yellow teeth being the only visible facial feature. Kori felt Colin’s hand grip on his shirt, and he was slowly pulled backwards away from the beast.

“What are you doing?” Rela yelled, annoyed, but Colin shushed her, his eyes never leaving the beast. She squirmed in his hold and Colin gripped her tighter.

“Rela, stop moving!” He hissed, his voice shaking slightly as they backed away.

“Let go of me!” Rela began to shout louder, and Colin quickly put his hand on her mouth. The black beast began to move closer to them, moving just as slow as they were. Rela squealed as she was muffled, but it turned into a gasp when she noticed the monster. The beast got low, and Colin let go of the two, shoving them back towards where Hoz was.

“RUN! NOW!” He shouted, and Kori’s adrenaline spiked, causing him to sprint. He fell behind Rela quickly, and he felt like he wanted to sob, but Colin kept nudging his back. He heard crashing behind them, but he didn’t dare look. He saw Hoz who looked startled at the sudden action, and Kori gasped as he tripped over his own skirt. He felt Colin lean over him protectively, hugging him close to shield him from the monster. Kori twisted his neck to look behind him, and he saw the beast snarling down on them, black spit pouring out of its mouth. He curled into Colin who had his sword drawn, but his uncle was shaking uncontrollably.

“Good goddesses!” Hoz exclaimed, his own sword being drawn. Kori heard the men let out a battle cry as they charged the creature, and Colin finally scrambled to his feet with Kori in his arms. He was looking behind his uncle as he ran, and saw the black beast swatting away the soldiers as if they were annoying flies. Some of the soldiers who were hit got back up and ran away, soon leaving Hoz alone to fight the beast.

“Get back here, you cowards!” Hoz yelled as he dodged a swipe from the creature, and Colin reached Rela who was crying. He set him down next to her and gestured to the house.

“Hide yourselves in there, ok? I’m gonna go help him,” he said quickly before giving the two a quick hug. Kori felt himself freeze up again as he watched Colin run towards the monster distracted by Hoz. He didn’t know what to do; he was too scared to move. He just wanted his papa.

Rela grabbed his arm and ran into the home, trying to move the boxes in front of the door while Kori stood there shaking. She shifted the home around to the best of her ability, straining to move the heavy boxes to the door.

“Kori, help me!” She cried, but Kori couldn’t move. Rela was only able to move a couple of boxes to the door, with a chair under the handle, and she finally pulled Kori into a cupboard, hugging him close as they stared wide-eyed in the darkness. Kori heard the muffled shouts of men along with roars from the monster. He cried quietly with his head against Rela’s, the sounds becoming agonizing to his long ears. It felt like hours that they were in the cupboard, fear of being found making Kori feel sick, but it eventually went silent. He glanced up and stared, straining his ears to hear something, anything. But it was silent.

“What is it?” Rela whispered, her voice shaking. Kori continued to listen, and he screamed when he heard loud banging on the door. Rela slapped her hand on his mouth and the two whimpered and shook as the banging continued. Kori curled further into Rela, trying to keep himself from sobbing. There was one more loud bang, then a crash of Rela’s makeshift barricade, then groans from two men.

“Rela? Kori?” The two heard Colin call out, and they scrambled out of the cupboard, ramming into Colin’s legs. Colin melted to the floor and hugged the two, a sigh of relief escaping him. “Thank the spirits,” he muttered in Rela’s hair.

“W-what happened?” Rela asked after pulling away. “Did you kill that monster?”

Colin sighed and shook his head. “No, but we led it away.”

“One of my men distracted it further into the woods,” Hoz continued to explain, staring anxiously out the door. “Glad to know that they’re useful for something.”

Colin gave him a look and stood up. “Shadow beasts are terrifying, give them more grace.”

“They are terrifying,” Hoz growled, stepping further into the home. “I fought them when they first invaded the castle ten years ago. I know how they work and what they are. But it is my duty to protect Hyrule, and it is their duty as well!” He turned away in a huff and looked outside again while Colin remained quiet. “I will not give them grace. If they didn’t want to be soldiers of Hyrule, then they should’ve stayed in the comfort of their home.”

Colin sighed and stood up. “Well, we’re not safe here. Let me take my sister and nephew back to Ordon, and I’ll help you chase after it.”

Hoz’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Very well. These young ones do not need to see such action.” He gave them a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, I saw a shadow beast when I was about nine,” Colin muttered, ruffling Kori and Rela’s hair. “It’s terrifying… I know it.”

Hoz hummed. “Yet you still came to my aid when my own men abandoned me.” he let out a chuckle. “You are the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

“O-Oh! W-well… I don’t know about that,” Colin laughed nervously, beginning to nudge Kori and Rela out the door.

“No, without a doubt. Your courage exceeds most of the soldiers of Hyrule! Have you ever considered joining the guard?”

Colin let out a sigh and drew his sword, watching the trees with unease as Kori and Rela stuck to his legs. “L-look, there are more important things right now.”

“Right,” Hoz cleared his throat and walked out of the house, his own sword drawn. “Let’s get these children home, then.”

The group quietly walked through the woods; despite it being light out, Kori couldn’t help but feel the danger of a shadow lurking in the corners. He kept his eyes sharp, looking for anything that moved. They reached the Faron spring and Kori hugged Colin’s legs tighter. It was uncomfortably silent, but from a distance, Kori heard the sounds of screams. Hoz seemed to pick up on it as well, and he looked around him, a worried look on his face. Colin and Rela seemed none the wiser, however, and they continued onward. A snap of a twig filled the air, and he felt Colin tense as a horse burst through the entrance with a distressed whinny.

“Penelope!” Hoz called out, and stopped her from charging, attempting to calm her down. But right behind the horse, a soldier came running before falling to the ground.

“C-captain!” He cried, and he screamed as he was pulled away. “Help me!”

Hoz ran to him, but he slipped from his fingers as the large shadow beast lifted the squirming soldier. Kori gasped when he saw other soldiers inside its abundant hands—one having two uncomfortably squished together. The shadow beast observed the soldier, but its gaze turned, and it fully faced Kori. Though it had no eyes, he could practically feel its gaze burning through him. He whimpered and hugged Colin tighter. Were they going to die?

The shadow beast dropped the soldier in its hand and charged at Kori. He let out a scream as Colin grabbed him and Rela and attempted to dodge the beast. They were successful in not being trampled, but the beast’s hand snagged Kori, and he laid in between the monster and Colin. He was frozen while laying on the ground, too scared to move and too scared to cry as the beast faced him again. It went in for another charge, but Hoz scooped Kori up and ran out of the way. Kori didn’t comprehend that he was being lifted onto the horse that charged through, and the captain dragged Colin and Rela to the horse as well.

“Young man, get to Castle town, tell Queen Zelda and King Edmund about this. I’ll hold it off.”

Colin climbed onto the horse with Kori in front and Rela behind, and he frowned at Hoz. “I can’t just leave you!”

“You must protect these little ones.” Hoz turned to see the shadow beast recovering from its second failure. The soldier it dropped earlier charged at it, and Hoz turned back to Colin. “What’s your name, young man?”

“I—Colin, sir.”

“I’ll never forget your courage, Colin. Now go! Tell her Highness about this!” Hoz hit Penelope’s behind and she took off running. Kori turned behind him to see Hoz draw his sword, facing the shadow beast with his one remaining soldier, the others remaining in its hands. Kori faced the front and let out a sob, wanting so badly to go back home to his stuffed animals with his papa and mommy holding him. Colin’s arms wrapped around him and he gave him a small peck on the head.

“It’ll be ok, Kori,” he said, his voice shaking as the horse ran through the woods, the trees looking like a blur of green and brown. Kori closed his eyes, praying to the light spirits and goddesses of Hyrule that he’d soon be waking up in his home, with this nightmare behind him.

#love at twilight #midlink #Kori #smiles wtites #WOOOOO #almost 10k words GOODNESS #let’s goooo #me reading the comments from the last update hehehehehhe #it was pretty funny know what was gonna happen this update UwU #anyways Kori!! my son!!!#hope you guys like this :)#Kori and Rela are polar opposites and I love them #Kori def has some sass thanks to her #rip Hoz #he’s not dead don’t worry #edit: thanks for beta reading bearie lmao

57 notes · View notes

linksthoughtbrambles · 5 days ago

Text

The Unexpected Benefits of Late Weather Warnings

A gift for @pastelsandpining for Midna's Merry Mixup! (Zelink, modern AU, Rated T, 13K words, also here on ao3. What might have been the worst public transportation experience of Zelda's life became the best bus ride ever). Note: Read "eyeSlate" as cool Sheikah eye followed by the word Slate, please!

Zelda grimaced at the message blinking between red triangles on her eyeSlate.

⚠ Warning! ⚠

⚠ Hazardous weather conditions! ⚠

“Hazardous, indeed,” she muttered to herself, swiping a few snowflakes from the screen, shutting it off, and stowing the slate in her coat pocket. She winced—she’d done it again. She’d resolved not to talk to herself so much. Her students had noticed her talking to the rubidium atoms cooling in the magneto-optical trap, and while she appreciated them having a little fear of her, she preferred it to be for the right reasons, and not because they believed her on the verge of madness.

She wasn’t mad. She simply wished her experiments to proceed as planned.

In fact, she generally preferred things to proceed as planned whether they were experiments or not, and tonight, her plan was to be social (which she’d also resolved to do, partially to assist with her other resolution—after all, if she spoke to other people more, perhaps she’d speak to herself—and rubidium atoms—a little less). She’d therefore agreed to attend Purah’s solstice celebration tonight, and she had no intention of reconsidering over the most recent in a long string of weather warnings regarding unremarkable winter weather.

The temperature is significantly below freezing? ⚠ Warning! ⚠

A few inches of snow? ⚠ Warning! ⚠

The occasional puddle-turned-ice on the ground? ⚠ Warning!!! ⚠

A flea sneezed, creating a slight, chilly breeze? ⚠ AJFDSA;JFDA SHUT DOWN EVERYTHING!!!! ⚠

“They’ll be locking us all indoors next, until the equinox arrives,” she muttered as the market’s doors slid open to admit her. Then she cringed. “I’ve done it again- ah!”

A scruffy-white-bearded shopper on his way out gave her a look which certainly qualified as wary, and Zelda attempted to dismantle her unreasonably annoyed pose and expression before anyone else decided she was mad.

And yes, she was being a bit unreasonable. The slate had warned her to stay home occasionally rather than struggle through snow to her lab on off-days. But she’d left work already, already traveled over half an hour to this particular market which stocked alcohol and had an excellent bakery, and it wasn’t as though she would remain here all night in fear of the possibility of snow.

Her heart sank again when she recalled she’d miss seeing the handsome new man on the bus. She reached for a box full of gorgeous-looking mixed butter cookies, thinking if she truly meant to speak to people more, she should finally take the plunge. She’d been trying not to stare at him for months. She ought to do him the courtesy of asking his name, especially since he almost certainly had caught her looking several times.

It took her a while to decide what to buy, especially regarding the alcohol. Daruk did not seem like a wine-drinker to her, nor did Robbie, but she rather thought wine was more usual to bring to these things than hard alcohol. After far too long considering whether her perceptions were based in fact or bias, she chose not only a bottle of dry red wine, but one of mead and yet another of peated whiskey. She rushed to scoop up cheese and crackers, choosing not to fluster herself by checking the time. She’d simply hurry to the bus stop.

She left the shop more heavily laden than intended but confident she wouldn’t disgrace herself that evening. A burst of freezing wind whipped her hair into her face along with quite a few snowflakes. A shocking amount of snow had fallen while she’d shopped. She hadn’t been in there that long, had she? She picked up her pace despite the slippery sidewalk.

The walk to the bus stop took longer than usual, the wind jostling her in long gusts while she kept her face turned as far into her scarf as she could, the snowfall thickening the entire way there. A line of people stood beneath the stop’s little shelter already, shifting between their feet, shivering, and craning their necks in search of the next bus. Zelda slid in, just barely beneath the little roof. The nearest person stepped aside to give her more space.

“Th- thank you,” she said into her scarf with a little shiver.

“No problem.”

Less snow fell directly on her head that way, but the next gust sent a lot of it into her face, wrinkling her nose and squeezing her eyes shut automatically. The flakes on her eyelashes created fascinating little cold zones on her eyelids.

A soft laugh came from beside her. She liked its sound immediately, despite it being at her expense. “Here- we can switch places,” the person said.

“I- am quite alright,” she said, which was true. Cold eyelids were very little to complain about. “Besides, you’ve been waiting longer.”

“It wasn’t this bad when I walked here, though. There’s less snow on me.”

“It worsened quickly.”

“Yeah, it did.”

Zelda transferred all her grocery bags to one hand to brush the snow off herself. The bottles clinked and she grimaced at her already-moistening knit gloves. The wind continued to barrage them with snow as they waited, and a few people on the other side of the shelter began muttering.

“So how long have you been here?”

“At least a half hour.”

“Ghg. Real behind.”

“Just hope it’s not all full up.”

That was an unpleasant thought.

As Zelda’s mood soured, she sunk deeper and deeper into her scarf and coat, pleased no one had tried to make small talk. She despised small talk. It always ended, somehow or other, with her having confused the other person, and she’d simply given up at this point.

The bus arrived much later than it should have, crawling up the street and nearly invisible until fifty feet from them. The driver applied the brakes early and the bus made a slow skid to a stop, ending at a jaunty angle further past the shelter than usual. Warm light fell on the growing snowdrifts as the bus doors slid open, and they queued up single file to get on, Zelda last.

That is, she was last until the stranger who’d made room for her did so again. He stepped aside, his hand outstretched, allowing her to go first. She blinked, surprised and a little confused at the unnecessary gesture, her eyes following that hand (which also held several bags) up the arm of a rugged coat, and to the face of the man she’d been silently ogling since early autumn.

He had a friendly, lopsided smile, with a dimple and crinkled eyes (shockingly blue). With his nose and cheeks cold-reddened and his bangs sticking haphazardly out from under his hat and hood, he struck her not only as handsome (as usual), but absolutely adorable.

She stared at him as the line shortened.

He made that soft laugh again, and her heart surprised her with a single beat against the wall of her chest. “It’s okay—go ahead.”

Her feet shuffled, and she found herself hurrying past him, grateful the cold had also reddened her features. “Thank you,” she said again, muffled.

She took the steps as quickly as she could, registering that while not entirely full, the bus had very few seats left. She moved nearly to the first row of front-facing double-seats before she realized the gift-bag-laden woman ahead of her was about to take the last one remaining toward the back of the bus. The only empty seats would be behind Zelda.

Only two seats, in fact—the ones right next to the door in the row facing the driver’s side.

Zelda turned to find the handsome man staring at them, his face difficult to read. Then he looked at her.

“You can sit,” he said.

Air puffed out her nose above her damp scarf. She tugged it down. “So can you.”

At that moment, the driver spun the wheel and Zelda lurched to the right with an odd, gulping gasp. For an instant, she thought she’d end up in the lap of the man in the third seat, but handsome-man’s hand shot out and caught her upper arm, their grocery bags clanging into the metal pole beside her and swinging to nearly hit the seated man’s face, too.

The support gave her a precious second to grab the pole, find her feet again, and register that the man she’d almost squished was the scruffy-bearded man from the shop.

“Sorry!” said handsome-man to scruffy-man.

“Sorry!” said Zelda to scruffy-man.

“Sorry,” said handsome-man to her.

She stared at handsome-man, and he stared at her.

Scruffy-man stared spook-faced at both of them.

Handsome-man glanced at his own hand on her arm, suddenly spook-faced himself. “Sorry!” he repeated, releasing her like he’d palmed a hot iron.

“N-no need,” she said, her gloved hand slipping around the pole as the bus swayed. “I’d have fallen.” A tiny, nervous laugh left her. “Thank you.”

“Uh- yeah, of course. Maybe-“ he eyed the seats. “Maybe you’d better-?”

“Y- yes. Indeed.” Zelda plunked into the seat, her face extremely hot, with another apology to the man she’d nearly smooshed. (He grunted). She pulled her bags between and behind her legs, hoping not to trip anyone in addition to the scene she’d caused.

Handsome-man hesitated, still standing, one hand securing himself to the pole beside the steps.

Zelda struggled both to look at him and not to look at him. Her eyes took a meandering zig-zag of a path from her knees to his knees to the pole to a button on his coat, back to the pole, and finally to his collar, from which she sheepishly lifted her eyes to his, her face turning yet another shade of scarlet.

“You- can sit,” she said.

A little huff came from scruffy-man’s direction.

Handsome-man hesitated one more moment, then slid into the seat beside her, tucking his bags back just as she had.

Zelda’d curled her index fingers and thumbs together, considering her wet gloves in lieu of the man beside her, feeling both fortunate and unfortunate that she couldn’t feel the warmth of him through their insulative clothing, and that he had, in fact, managed to sit without touching her at all. She didn’t need to feel the surprising and unusual things he did to her insides while sitting with mere centimeters between them. She tugged the gloves off and sat them on her woolen lap. He pushed his hood back with a small sigh.

The bus seemed barely able to do better than a brisk walking speed, but at least it was warm and dry. (Well—relatively dry. Her snowy coat was making a mess of the seat already). She looked out the windshield (driver’s side, so handsome-man wouldn’t think her staring at him). The snow swirled first one way, then the next, the windshield wipers flapping madly back and forth, and the driver’s elbow made a sudden jab past the barrier as he made a quick adjustment for an unmistakable slip. Zelda swallowed.

Her eyes flicked to the side of the windshield closer to her and caught a glimpse of handsome-man side-eyeing her.

She snapped her gaze forward.

Then she tried to see him out of the furthest possible corner of her eye.

He appeared to be considering the window directly across from them—all but falling snow utterly invisible beyond it. She considered it too, a tiny voice which was much braver than she felt reminding her she’d meant to ask him his name.

The bus made a stop, a howl of cold wind from the opening door followed by hurried steps as six people boarded, one holding packages above his head and another grumbling in Gerudo, tall enough she’d have to duck under the hand-hold bars. Shuffling at the back of the bus signaled passengers disembarking, and the newcomers all moved that way.

“Pardon me,” a short woman said as one of her canvas bags scraped its way past Zelda’s shin.

“It’s alright,” she said automatically.

Her eyeSlate buzzed.

Zelda tried to fish it from her pocket without poking handsome-man in the leg. She succeeded, though she realized too late she’d leaned a bit into scruffy-man’s space again.

She turned to find him leaning away from her, spooked once more.

“Apologies,” she said.

He just stared at her.

She shook her head at herself and tapped the screen with practiced motions.

Purah had messaged her.

Zelda sniffed, irrationally annoyed at the timestamp. It’s not as though she hadn’t known she’d taken a long time in the shop, or that the bus had taken a long time to arrive, or that it was absolutely crawling.

A laugh puffed from Zelda’s nose. Then handsome-man shifted a little and a tiny gasp left her. She concentrated hard on the screen, refusing to indulge the sudden urge to see if he’d looked at her.

Zelda laughed again. There were few people she could successfully tease. Purah was one of them. If anyone else had thrown a party, she’d have declined the invitation. Zelda lowered the slate to her lap and glanced up at the still-worsening storm out the windshield, suddenly wondering if handsome-man was looking at her again, though for a different reason. She repeated her trick of glancing out the nearer side of the windshield and found him looking out it too.

Her heart sputtered relief and she texted quickly.

Zelda slapped the slate to her chest with an involuntary glance his way, her heart pitter-pattering like rabbit feet along with the slate’s ceaseless buzzing.

Handsome-man had turned her way, his face blank enough that she had no idea if he’d already been looking or if her sudden panic had drawn his attention.

She felt a shift on her other side, too, and turned to see scruffy-man looking much more obviously confused.

She tried not to shrink in her seat.

“Ad,” she said.

Her eyebrows shot up in shock at her own lie.

At her incredibly foolish lie, for the only material on her slate she should be so ashamed of ought to have been very mortifying indeed, far more so than handsome-man knowing she thought him attractive.

But no. No, instead, she’d implied she was hiding something unsuitable to be seen in public, and considering her slate wouldn’t stop buzzing she doubted anyone would assume she’d simply opened a personal document by mistake.

No. No, they’d think porn. Wouldn’t they?

Of course they would. NSFW. Porn with rumble effects.

Then she did shrink in her seat.

She wildly considered shoving her still-buzzing slate into handsome-man’s line of vision. Shame and relief would mingle for certain, but It would be an improvement over the pure humiliation within her now.

It stopped about thirty seconds later.

Zelda couldn’t help it. As though dragged by some invisible force, her head turned with extreme slowness toward that handsome man beside her.

He was still looking at her, now with a very small smile on his face.

Zelda tried not to appear quizzical.

His smile grew a little. She had the impression he was trying not to laugh.

He flashed his eyebrows at her and she lost it. Silent laughter shook her chest, her face twisting into something between a smile, a pout, and a grimace, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Must’ve been some ad,” he said.

She groaned, placed her slate face-down in her lap, and rested her face in her hands.

She heard that soft laughter beside her again. “My name’s Link,” he said.

She took slow, calming breaths as she lifted her head to see his smile deepened, his eyes twinkling at her.

She tried not to let it take her breath away. Yes, he was handsome, and she loved his voice, but she hadn’t exactly made a spectacular impression. She took an intentionally deep breath instead. “I’m Zelda.”

He held out his hand, still gloved, to shake hers. “Nice to meet you, Zelda.”

She smiled quite a bit more than she should have and flushed even more. “Nice to meet you too, Link.” A jolt of electricity ran through her when their hands met despite his glove, but she thought she hid it reasonably well.

“I, ah,” he said as his hand returned to his lap, “was surprised to see you at the stop.”

She blinked. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m late tonight. Went shopping so I wouldn’t have to tomorrow.”

It slowly penetrated that he, too, had been aware they usually rode the same bus. “I- also. The same. Apologies, no, not the same,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes squeezed shut. What was wrong with her? “Shopping, yes, but for a friend’s party tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow and eyed the storm outside.

“Heh. Yes, well… I don’t believe this was expected.” Her brow pinched and she fiddled with her eyeSlate. “Did you see the warning?”

He shook his head. “No, my slate’s off. Battery.”

She turned hers on and swiped Purah’s barrage of messages away, her eyes widening. She’d caught “date” and “hanky-panky” before it left the screen, hoping he hadn’t, as he was quite clearly and correctly expecting her to show him what she meant. She navigated to her notifications and tapped the warning.

⚠ Warning! ⚠

⚠ Hazardous weather conditions! ⚠

A winter storm alert is in effect in central Hyrule, Lake Hylia County, Northwest Faron, West Necluda, and Southwestern Eldin until 2:45 pm HST. 32” total accumulation expected. Wind gusts up to 70 mph.

Zelda stared at it, swallowing, part of her wishing she’d read the warning earlier—the other part quite logically pointing out it would’ve made no difference unless she’d begged to sleep at the market. Had she made her way back to the bus stop immediately, she’d probably have been waiting, empty-handed, under the little shelter that entire time regardless.

She huffed a little.

Then she scowled.

It would be the one evening she had social plans that central and southern Hyrule would be inundated with snow rather than Hebra. 32”—she hadn’t seen that much snow at once in this region since she was very little.

“I was really, really not expecting that,” Link said, frowning at the warning.

“You… don’t live too far past the highway, do you?” she asked.

“Just two stops past you.”

“Ah. Not so bad then.”

“No, but-“ he craned his neck, straightening his back to peer out the windshield. Then he sat back, shaking his head. “I don’t want my food to get nasty.”

She took a closer look at his grocery bags. They appeared to be the same as hers. “Are you also partial to LonLon’s?”

“You bet I am. Only place near my route that has grass-fed butter and beef.”

“Is that what you have?”

“Not beef today, but the butter, yeah.”

“At least that will keep.”

“Raw pigeon won’t,” he said with a wide-eyed grin.

“Oh.” She blinked at his bags. “Oh dear.”

“Yeaaaah.”

The bus crawled to another slow stop. Zelda frowned, trying to see as the doors opened, snow bursting onto their heads and shoulders. “Did we… only just reach the next stop?”

Link craned his neck, though he avoided directly blocking anyone entering or exiting. “We might’ve passed… one without stopping? The snow’s so thick.”

“Malon street,” the driver said with a sniff.

“Oh,” Zelda said, trying not to sound too dismayed. They had, in fact, not passed one without stopping.

She and Link looked at each other.

“Your pigeon is most certainly in peril,” she said.

He snorted. “I may have to shop tomorrow after all.”

“With nearly three feet of snow on the ground?”

“It’s fine, I’ll walk to the mediocre store near my apartment.”

“If it’s open,” Zelda said.

He grimaced. “Ooh.”

“Indeed.”

“What about your party?” Link asked.

“Oh,” Zelda shrugged. “I don’t believe it matters much. Purah is always up late regardless, and with her house full of scientists and engineers, she’s likely not to sleep at all until morning.”

“Wow, some party!” Link said, his eyebrows disappearing under the bangs sticking out from under his hat. “Are you all working together on something?”

“I suppose she and her colleagues are in general, but no—the conversation is just likely to be ceaseless.”

He studied her, his brow pinching for a moment. “You don’t sound that excited about it.”

“Oh, I’m not much for parties, but I’d resolved to make an attempt at socialization.”

His smile brightened. “Does this count?”

“Heh,” she laughed. “Indeed it does. And what of you?”

“Eh, I socialize all the time.”

Her smile remained, but she didn’t know how to respond to that.

He seemed to sense it. “I teach,” he said. Then he looked up and to the right. “Basically. Sort of. Yeah.”

Her face brightened, then fell, then became quizzical. “Oh?”

“I work at the rock climbing place.”

She cocked her head.

“On-The-Wall.”

Her head cocked further.

“It’s on Chickaloo Street.”

“Ah,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I haven’t explored that direction. Do you enjoy it?”

“I love it,” he said. “First off, I get to climb. No complaints there. Second, I like teaching the classes, and third, there are birthday parties!” He smiled excitedly. “With crazy kids being crazy.”

One of her eyebrows became even more quizzical. “Is that a good thing?”

“Oh yeah, it’s awesome. Little wackadoodle banana-monkeys. You never know what they’ll do.”

As he smiled at her, Zelda registered two things.

First, he, unlike her, was not at all opposed to parties—and second, he, unlike her, had no aversion to unpredictability.

Then a third thing registered as she processed the first two: that his smile faltered a little with her silence.

She grasped for some response other than the turn her thoughts had taken. “I- ah… I also teach, but my environment, I suspect, is more predictable than yours. I can’t imagine I would have much success corralling a herd of children in my lab.”

His face brightened again. “Lab?”

“I work at U of H Central.”

“Oh, you’re a professor! What do you teach?”

It was her turn for her smile to falter. “Ah- um. Physics.”

His eyes flew wide. “…Physics?”

She nodded.

She waited for it.

This, typically, would be the point at which things went badly. A significant portion of the population presumed her to be from some alien planet after this pronouncement.

She tried not to show her prehensive disappointment as he continued to stare at her.

“Wait, wait wait,” he said, his smile growing skeptical, “how can you manage not to socialize?”

Zelda’s jaw dropped.

He… wasn’t surprised?

He didn’t think she ought to be an elderly man with hair sticking out at odd angles?

He didn’t immediately break off the conversation?

“That’s- that is-“ she stuttered, struggling to return her train of thought to his question. “It’s different. I’m- I’m at work. There, I must socialize.”

“Ohhh,” he said. “I get you. Yeah, I know the feeling. After work, I’m pretty shot for dealing with people. Need to recover. Especially if people were grouchy.”

She blinked at him. “You seem perfectly amiable to me.”

He squinted an eye.

“What?”

He squinted more. “That means friendly.”

“Well-“ she sat up straighter. “Yes. Yes it does.”

He squinted both eyes suspiciously. “I only know because I watched Affection and Affectation twice.”

“Twice?!”

“It was good!”

“Well- yes, it was. I enjoyed the play on words.”

“Me too, that’s why I watched it in the first place.” He smiled wider. “So. You watch stuff.”

She huffed a laugh. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I don’t know, if you’re a professor maybe you need to be reading a lot of—I don’t know. Physicsy things.”

“I do that, too.”

“You have time for both?”

“I also read non-physicsy things.”

“No way.”

And now, apparently, it was her turn to eye him suspiciously. Was he teasing her?

He shifted in his seat—only a little, but it was to face her more fully, his eyes on hers waiting, apparently rapt, for her reaction.

Her heart skipped a beat.

What sort of smile was that on his face?

And what was the feeling tugging so insistently at the corners of her mouth?

A blast of cold, snowy air from the opening doors burst the moment, squeezing both their eyes shut in defense against the icy incursion.

Zelda hadn’t realized she’d gripped the pole beside her.

When she opened her eyes, she found Link watching the bridge of her wrinkled nose out of one very squinty eye, the other suddenly bearing quite a few snowflakes.

She giggled. She couldn’t help it.

Link grumbled and took the back of his wrist to his snowy eye.

The bus slipped the instant it pulled out into the street, drawing their attention back to the windows (to no avail). Zelda took the opportunity to text Purah, ostensibly so she wouldn’t worry, but in reality to scroll up her previous stream of embarrassing messages.

She waited with the keypad up, trying to think of something else to say to scroll those messages even further. Then an enormous gif of a korok, its arms raised, with flames ever-burning in the background appeared and did that job for her. She stared at it for a moment.

Zelda sighed. Societal expectations were not her strong suit, but she had the sense that inviting a person she’d just met to another person’s party would cross one of those invisible etiquette lines so difficult to detect, even if said person enjoyed parties.

The bus made a few more slow stops and a turn which meant they’d finally reached the service road beside the highway. She rather thought she should say something else to Link—perhaps it would even be reasonable to ask for his slate number, considering they got along well so far—but would she seem desperate? Forward? Irritating? Perhaps it was best to wait. As she did, her mind turned on whether the driver would take the usual route. The plows usually tended the highways diligently, but a prickle of anxiety reminded her even the warning of this storm she’d ignored had arrived late. Some unexpected weather pattern must have occurred.

“Kids are going to be disappointed,” Link said, out of the blue and seemingly to the snow outside.

Zelda blinked. “Why? Tomorrow wouldn’t have been a school day, regardless.”

“Exactly.”

It took her a moment. Then she smirked. “A wasted snow day?”

“Yep.”

The bus lurched toward the left side of the street, jostling them and answering Zelda’s earlier question as it crossed lanes of traffic to approach the highway’s on-ramp. She swallowed as it began to climb the incline up to highway level, at first at an accelerated pace. She hoped that meant the plows and salt trucks had indeed been effective, but as the seconds passed she realized they were slowing—then the bus’ front began twisting to the right. Zelda tamped a gasp and clamped her hand on the pole beside her. Link grabbed the one on his other side.

The driver spun the wheel frenetically, his elbow popping in and out from behind the barrier, and she thought she heard him curse under his breath. Her grip turned white-knuckled as the bus turned more and more sideways. A sudden vision intruded on her thoughts of it going completely perpendicular to the ramp, still sliding, then rolling down the hill faster and faster. Her heart lurched into her throat as the speed of the slide seemed to accelerate.

Apparently, Zelda was not alone in this line of thinking, as a current of airy, tense sounds ran through the passengers, and something changed in the way Link was sitting. His back straightened, and he spent a long moment watching the driver like a hawk, his expression intense. Then he looked at Zelda and silently offered his other hand, palm up.

She gripped it like a lifeline.

The bus lurched left to a collective gasp from the passengers as the driver won his battle with the wheels. The bus began to right itself, and breath returned to Zelda, her grip loosening. It tightened again when the bus began to list left instead. She took an audible, involuntary gulp of air—it seemed to stay stuck in her throat along with her heart. Link kept switching between looking at her and the driver.

“Are you alright?” he asked under his breath, his eyes intense on her.

She nodded swiftly.

He looked like he wanted to say something else. His gloved fingers flexed around hers, and it seemed for a moment he was going to change positions.

It seemed to take an absolute age, a purgatory of possible death-by-bus-roll as the bus drifted over and over again to the side, Zelda in two agonies at once: one of pure fear, and another of elation at the feel of Link’s hand holding hers so tightly. When the bus finally fishtailed its way to the top of the ramp and began its slow, rolling merge onto the blissfully flat highway, Zelda tried and failed to release her death-grip on Link.

Someone in the back whooped, someone else whistled, and a chorus of cheers and applause filled the space.

“You deserve a medal, man,” Link said.

Zelda privately agreed, but seemed incapable of speech (or regulating her heart rate).

The driver gave an exaggerated wave. It seemed to say all in a day’s work, but his eyes were quite wide, and his face a little too flat to be genuinely calm.

“Some ride,” Link said quietly.

Zelda managed to let him go. Her hand came away stiff and tingling as she found her voice. “I- hope I didn’t crush you too badly,” she said, wiggling her fingers.

“No, did- did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes widening.

“Not at all- I believe I hurt myself.”

He laughed a little. “It was pretty scary.”

“Yes.” She returned her hand to her lap. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he said, his voice soft.

The highway was hardly any faster than the roads had been. A few times, the brakes issued long, slow, squeals followed by grinds as the wheels shuddered their way through building snow on their way to a stop, despite how slow just about everyone was going anyway. Every once in a while, a car blew past them somewhere far to the left, evidenced only by its lights and the sound of it. Some of the other passengers tutted.

“Wish I was a Rito,” muttered the scruffy-bearded man to the ceiling.

Zelda privately disagreed, as Rito had just as much difficulty flying in such weather as others had in traversing it on the ground.

The bus started and stopped so many times it all began to blend together. Zelda turned her slate in her lap, thinking again she should ask Link for his number, but still feeling too shy to do so. Her eyelids grew a little heavy with the monotony. Link seemed intent on the driver. He didn’t seem tense, exactly, but watchful. Her slate buzzed in her lap, and she jumped. She unlocked it sheepishly.

Zelda nodded to herself and opened the map, zooming in to the general Romani area. The display remained heavily pixelated. She swiped toward Applea instead without better luck—then she zoomed out, attempting to let the map simply load for a few minutes. She watched the progress bar remain utterly still as her patience waned.

Zelda sighed. The infrastructure did need updating, and the weather couldn’t be helping. She wondered how many other people within a hundred feet of her were attempting to load GPS information at the same time. A good old-fashioned look out the window told her absolutely nothing.

She blinked.

Absolutely nothing is exactly what had happened since before Purah had texted her. The bus hadn’t moved at all.

Zelda shifted in her seat, then glanced around at her fellow passengers. Some, predictably, were facing their laps, likely deep in some mobile game or another. A few were leaning back in their seats or against the walls, napping or attempting to. The Gerudo woman had the most bored look Zelda had ever seen on anyone’s face, and that included students trapped listening to the 90-year-old igneous rock expert in her building drone on about the injustices of his tax bill. Scruffy-man sported an impressive resting grump-face. Link was the only other passenger who seemed fully alert.

He seemed to sense her watching him. He turned and gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was.

She squeezed the slate in her hands. Then she held up a finger for his attention and opened her notes app. She typed in very large letters: Are we stuck? She turned the screen toward him.

He chewed his lips, pulling them into his mouth, then found her eyes. He flashed an eyebrow and half-shrugged.

She checked her slate again. The map still hadn’t loaded. She shook her head and closed the app.

Zelda’s stomach gave its first pitiful squeak of hunger. She willed it silent, then turned her slate off. Better to conserve battery, just in case.

The driver made a quiet call into DoT-H.

“This is Botrick, bus C-H-O-C 11. I’m Crenel-bound on the Romani Highway past exit 16. No movement. Please advise.”

She could feel Link straining, just as she was, to hear the answer.

Two bursts of voice-toned static arrived, way louder than the driver (he grimaced). Zelda couldn’t tell if the sounds meant anything to him. Scruffy-man also leaned forward in his seat, and the woman across from him tried to peer around the driver’s barrier.

A string of sounds issued from the speaker at the driver’s station. They were almost unintelligible, but Zelda could pick some of it out.

“No eyes” on the situation yet. “Continue route.”

Zelda tried not to make too grouchy of a face.

Link was chuckling. At her questioning look, he shook his head. “Just- what does he do if they say ‘abort route’?”

She snorted. “Abandon ship!”

“Abandon bus.”

“All hands to the lifeboats.”

“We’d need sleds.”

“And dogs to pull them.”

“Oooh, reindeer!”

“Truly, someone providing sleigh rides through Mabe Prairie Park tonight would make a killing,” she said, turning to look out the window behind her, then feeling rather silly, as there was still nothing but snowflakes and indistinct headlights to see. “They’d pass us right by.”

“I feel like I’m missing an entrepreneurship opportunity,” he said, that sideways smile of his back full-force. “Wonder if I can just walk right off the highway and start my own business.”

“You’ve no reindeer,” she pointed out.

“There’s horses at the park. And cows.”

“Hmm, less festive.”

“Still faster, though.”

“Are the cows much faster?”

“Eh…” he thought about it for a moment. “I- am not sure I’ve ever seen how fast a cow can run.”

Zelda swept one of her hands high through the air. “Link’s Cow Rides.”

“That has absolutely no ring to it whatsoever,” he said, suddenly choking on a laugh.

“Indeed, and unfortunately it doesn’t clarify the sleigh aspect of the experience.”

“I can hear the ad already, though. ‘Dashing through the snoooow in a one-cow open sleiiiigh.’”

Her muscles punched a laugh from her stomach. “Dashing may be unlikely, but laughing all the way is a strong possibility.”

“Or getting really bored. If the cows just stand around munching grass the whole time.”

“In the snow?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Oh yeah! Yeah, definitely laughing.”

“Excellent. You do appear to have your opportunity, as the bus hasn’t moved an inch.”

“I’m still missing something, though. No sleigh.”

“Ahh, yes. Well. Perhaps one of those plastic children’s sleds.”

“The sad thing is that would still be faster than this,” he said. Then he winced a little and looked at the driver. “Uh- not blaming you.”

“Glad to hear it,” the man apparently named Botrick replied, slouching over the wheel.

In the pause as Link recovered, the bus seemed even quieter than before, the only sound the stream of air from the heating system—battery-powered. There wasn’t even the rumble of an engine.

In that environment, grumbling stomachs easily stood out.

It wasn’t Zelda this time. It was Link.

She looked at him.

He was still wincing.

Zelda’s stomach squealed as though in agreement.

His torso lurched with a silent laugh.

Zelda could swear she heard other stomachs complaining, too. “Do we give in and eat on the bus?” she whispered.

“Not the pigeon,” he said.

She huffed. “Definitely not. We’ve no restroom in which to deal with the consequences.”

His eyes widened.

Her smirk began to fade with the extremely unpleasant thought of having to relieve oneself in the middle of the highway.

Surely it wouldn’t come to that.

“Perhaps we wait,” she said.

Link nodded vigorously.

The stillness dragged on.

At one point, the bus began to roll again to a collective, hopeful breath drawn by the entire bus.

It stopped mere inches later.

The collective groan was the loudest sound they’d heard in half an hour.

“What a tease,” the Gerudo woman said.

With no movement and no information forthcoming over the radio, Link seemed to become restless. He stretched his legs straight out in front of him. He leaned far back in his seat and looked up. He wiggled his nose repeatedly. He flexed all his fingers and cracked all his knuckles, then his neck (the woman across from them scowled at him). He sat back up and shimmied in his seat, still somehow avoiding jostling Zelda, then began tapping his fingers to some complex, inaudible drumbeat on his knees. Then he did the unfathomable. He raised his eyes to the strip of ads lining the bus above the hand-hold poles.

He had broken some invisible barrier by doing so—Zelda’s eyes followed his.

A classic tan-orange-brown Death Mountain color scheme backed a Goron cheerfully smiling with a knife in his hand, a grinding stone beside him, and a speech-bubble above his head: Gorrrrrrrron Grrrrrrinding! Bring us your knives! We’ll bring you to heaven.

Zelda’s head listed to the side for a long moment. Then she turned to Link.

He looked horrified.

He shook his head and ran a hand down his face with a sigh. Then he gripped the pole, stood, and stepped sideways to the top of the stairs. “Let me out? I can walk around, take a look at what’s going on.”

Botrick did a double-take. “What what?”

Link jerked his thumb behind him, pointing at the doors.

“We’re on the highway,” Botrick said.

“We haven’t moved in at least an hour.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

“I’ll stick my head out. If nothing’s moving, I’ll get out.”

“Jerks’ve been blowing by on the left!”

“They’re way on the shoulder. I’ll be here, next to the bus.”

“And they could hit something, and things could slide, and you could get squished.”

Link squinted at him. “Okay, I could get on top of the bus instead.”

The look on Botrick’s face was utterly flabbergasted. “What?”

“I’ll stand on the bus, get a good view.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Nah, just a good climber.”

“I don’t need you falling off my bus!”

“I won’t. Well-” Link tilted his head back and forth, looking up- “probably not. It’s slippery.”

Botrick just stared at him.

Link shrugged and put one foot on the lower step. “At least I can tell you how deep the snow got while we sat here.”

“Oh. Ohhh,” Botrick said, taking his rectangular glasses off and feverishly cleaning them on the hem of his shirt, pulled from under his coat. When he returned them to his face, he said, “Fine,” and opened the doors.

“BUT,” he said, as Link stuck his head out, “If you get killed it’s your own damn fault.”

Zelda did think the driver was overreacting a bit, and possibly thinking more about regulations and liability than practicality, but a flutter of nerves struck her as Link disappeared out the door. Botrick closed it.

A surprised “oh?” left Zelda’s mouth.

“To keep the heat in,” Botrick said.

The shadow of Link’s hood appeared in the window behind her along with a squeaky scrabbling sound. Scruffy-man shot forward in his seat as Link’s fingers tried to find purchase, with a brief pause after which they returned to do so gloveless. Zelda watched, astonished, as he leapt straight up, grabbed something, and pulled himself out of sight.

His footsteps on the roof seemed to wake everyone up.

“Is he really up there?” the Gerudo woman wondered (she sounded impressed).

Scruffy-man grunted.

Every set of eyes on the bus followed the sound of his feet walking the length of the bus, pausing, and walking back. He slipped at one point, and everyone gasped.

Botrick made a strangled sound of stress and cleaned his glasses again.

Link dropped down with a muffled thump at the bus doors and knocked. He came up the steps covered in snow, trying to brush it all back out the door and sniffling. “It’s more than a foot built up around us,” he said. “Maybe a foot and a half. Cars forever, just every direction. A few trucks and a flatbed. Nothing’s moving at all, as far as I can see.”

He looked at Zelda.

He didn’t say it, but the shuffling said everyone knew—they’d be stuck here a long time. She almost joked that his idea of walking off the highway was, in fact, the quickest way to get home, but it was also the surest way to get hit by a car on the shoulder, or to succumb to hypothermia. They would have to walk all the way to an exit ramp.

She shook her head. Abandon bus, indeed.

Movement at the edge of her vision drew her eyes to see Botrick turn a knob. The air flow from the heating system lessened to almost nothing, its temperature also lower. He was conserving battery, too.

Surely they wouldn’t run out? These buses had to run long days and nights without charging.

Then again, it was cold, and they were still. Lower efficiency.

��Do you mind if I-?” Link gestured to his still-snowy coat.

“No, no, of course not,” Botrick said.

Link nodded gratefully and draped the coat over the banister before returning to his seat, not looking defeated, exactly, but concerned.

Zelda sighed. She rummaged around in her bags, removed the enormous box of butter cookies she’d bought, and began untying the twine keeping it closed.

Link slumped in his seat a little, side-eyeing the box.

Zelda couldn’t help but smile at his poor attempt at feigning indifference.

He really was quite cute.

She lifted the lid and presented them to him—cookies of all different shapes, sizes, and colors, some sandwich-style filled with jam, some chocolate-dipped and coated in sprinkles, others with dollops of jam or chocolate in their centers.

He stared at them, his face oddly blank like when she’d hidden her buzzing slate.

“Go on,” she said. “Have one.”

A tiny hopeful smile quirked one corner of his mouth. He uncrossed his arms, leaned forward, and carefully selected an apricot sandwich-cookie almost the size of a Hylian’s palm, half-chocolate-dipped with rainbow sprinkles.

Zelda then turned and offered the box to scruffy-man.

He looked shocked.

“It’s alright,” she said, holding the box a little higher.

He still hesitated.

Compelling reasons to accept her cookie offering swirled through her head. There were so many (and she couldn’t think of many reasons not to have one, unless he suffered from allergies, and suddenly she thought that might be it). “They were made in a peanut and tree-nut free facility,” she said. “Though I don’t believe I can guarantee they’re free of other allergens. They’re also delicious.“ He still hesitated. “It’s not as though I’d planned to eat them all myself. Besides, better the cookies than each other.”

Link choked on his cookie, and scruffy-man once again began a slow lean away from her.

“A little early to resort to cannibalism,” said the Gerudo woman.

“W- well.” Zelda shrugged, face scarlet and eyes suddenly sealed shut. “Yes. Exactly. Thus the cookies.”

Link was wheezing. She turned to see him in the throes of laughter, cookie crumbs cupped in one hand while he failed to chew. “Y- you-“ he wheezed more- “have to appreciate the honesty, though.”

“You’d better eat one, my dear,” the Gerudo woman said with a pointed look at Zelda. “Otherwise we’ll all think you’re fattening us up.”

Zelda retrieved a cookie immediately (lemon-zest in the batter with raspberry filling) and offered the entire box to scruffy-man’s lap. After a long moment, he finally accepted it, took a random cookie without ever taking his eyes off Zelda, and passed the box to his left. Zelda ate her cookie slowly in mixed mortification and relief that at least she’d only seriously terrified one person.

As the box moved, the mood and voices on the bus lifted. It turned out the man who’d held packages above his head had taken leftover pizza, garlic bread, and fried cheese home from an office party, and someone else had a birthday cake for a gathering he certainly wasn’t making it to. He even had candles.

“My brother’ll live without cake,” he said as he stuck the candles in it. Someone else lit them with a lighter.

They sang solstice tunes instead of “Happy Birthday,” and kept singing while they passed small pieces of cake around on paper plates.

Zelda thought Link might have felt guilty about making the driver nervous. He brought a plate full of cookies and cake up to him personally.

It was then that Zelda realized she’d missed a trick.

She waved a hand at the crowd, but no one noticed (except scruffy-man, who continued to view her with apparent suspicion), so she stood. “Ah- excuse me?” A few people turned her way. “Does anyone have a corkscrew?”

The entire bus perked up at that.

Link cleared his throat and held up a spectacular, hefty multi-tool he’d just retrieved from his drying coat.

“Perfect,” Zelda said, retrieving her bottles. Link popped them open with a flourish and birthday-party-man provided a stack of paper cups.

The bus was soon very merry indeed—all but for Botrick, who stared longingly at Link’s cup (he’d opted for mead).

“We’ll save you some,” Link said. He took another of the very small sips he’d been taking.

Zelda had also chosen mead. “It’s quite good,” she said, though she’d taken only a very small amount, hyper-aware that she hadn’t used a bathroom since she left work.

“This is a nice one. Sometimes they’re weirdly harsh. Mead shouldn’t be harsh.”

“Oh! You’ve had it before?”

“Oh yeah, loads of times. I like to try things.”

“Indeed?”

“Yeah, food’s pretty much my hobby.”

“As in taste-testing?”

“Ohhhh not just that,” he said. “I love to cook. I was going to coat that pigeon in a rosemary, Hyrule herb, and warm safflina-infused oil I made a few weeks back and roast it, make it nice and crispy” He swallowed, his eyes widening, and Zelda had the sudden impression he’d caught himself salivating. “And I was going to braise the apples and red cabbage to go with it. And I was thinking about making some custard tarts with wildberries.”

“Here I was thinking you ate so healthy, until the custard tarts,” Zelda said with a smirk.

“I figure it averages out,” he grinned. “Can’t really share the eggs around, but if people need another round of food the fruit’s in here. There’s milk… too…” He suddenly sat at the edge of his seat, looking wildly around, his eyes landing on the forgotten twine from the cookie box half-under Zelda on her seat. “Can I… can I have that?”

Zelda passed it to him and watched him rummage in a bag which contained only the packaged pigeon and frozen peas. He tied the twine tight around both.

“Does this open?” Link asked, pointing at the front-most window.

“Yeah, only a few inches, but-“

“It’ll just take a second.”

Botrick grunted.

Link opened it, fought the pigeon out the window, and lowered it by the twine. Then he shut the window on it and tied the other end to the pole. “Ha!”

He appeared extremely pleased with himself.

Botrick appeared nonplussed.

Zelda finished her mead, stored her cup in one of her bags, and turned on her slate.

10:23 pm.

As the night wore on, the merry volume dwindled and the snow climbed higher against the sides of the bus. Snores began to issue and sputter as people jerked awake in the seats, shifted and re-settled again. Zelda stood at the front of the bus, peering down the long windows at the snow which cradled them.

“Will we be able to move? Once the car in front of us does?”

“I think so,” Botrick said. “There are a couple shovels under the floor if not.”

Another set of headlights went out.

“It’s fortunate the bus is battery-powered. With this much snow, we’d have had to dig out the exhaust pipe.”

Link sat suddenly forward. “Oh- Hylia.”

Zelda turned to see him scanning the pattern of lights outside the windshield. “What is it?”

“How many of them don’t know they should do that?” he asked. “Or just didn’t think of it. I mean, I know you should but I didn’t think of it until you said something.”

They looked at each other.

“Where are the shovels?” Link asked.

A few minutes later, he and the Gerudo woman left the bus armed with shovels and promises not to try and save the entire highway personally.

After half an hour, Zelda made Botrick open the doors again so she could check on them. She held on to a pole and leaned out into the frigid air—and found, to her relief, they’d enlisted a good deal of help from elsewhere. People were using ice-scrapers. People were talking to each other. Lanes were carved and stamped out between cars in places.

Other people were wading in thigh-deep snow.

She pulled her head in. “Is there an ice-scraper, too? One of the ones with a brush?”

“Yeah,” Botrick said.

“Excellent.”

The bus doors opened, and an extremely snowy Link popped his head in. “Hey, Zelda?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have the bag with the milk and fruit please?”

It only took her a moment of rummaging. She passed it over the end of the seats.

“Thanks.” He hesitated a moment. “Kids.”

The doors closed.

Zelda found herself staring at the place his face had been, part of her lamenting there were no cookies left to give them, and another part unable to unsee his extremely wind-and-cold-burnt face.

“Open the door, please,” she said.

She stuck her head out and found his profile. “Link!” she shouted.

He turned toward her.

“Cheese and crackers!”

He jogged back.

She ducked down and retrieved the last of the food she’d bought. Children were unlikely to want fancy cheese, but they also quite likely had hungry adults with them, and they’d all like the crackers.

She stood with them on the bottom step.

“We should trade places,” she said.

“No way,” Link said. “Your pants are thin, you’ll be soaked in under a minute.”

“You’re already freezing.”

“I know where the kids are,” he said with a bit of a smirk.

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

He had her there.

He gave her an extremely warm smile as he lifted the bag from her fingers. “Thank you,” he said.

“Come back after this,” she said. “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m alright.”

“Stay that way. Come back! And bring- ah-”

He huffed a laugh. “Her name’s Urbosa.”

“Bring Urbosa, too.”

He nodded. “I will.”

When they returned, Zelda was ready, along with leftover-pizza-man (Horace) and gift-bag-woman (Anna).

Armed with the largest ice scraper she’d ever seen, Zelda attacked them with the brush-side. Snow flew off Urbosa down the steps (Link dodged). She worked quickly until all that remained was anything that had already soaked into her clothing, then passed her off to Horace. Then it was Link’s turn.

He made an adorable “mrp” sound when she first swiped the brush down his front. She tried not to laugh. She miscalculated when she tried to get his chest and shoulders and caught the tip of his nose with the bristles.

“Oohf,” he said, his hand coming up to cradle his nose protectively.

“Sorry!”

“’Sokay,” he said, squinting strangely.

“Coat off,” she said when done, but she didn’t have to. He was already removing it and returning it to the banister.

Then she removed hers and plunked it across his shoulders.

“Huh-? You don’t have to-“

“I’m warm and dry. You’re not.” The blotchy redness on his face and neck said so clearly. “Hat,” she said.

He removed it and she gave hm hers.

She lamented again that they didn’t have any spare pants, but it was Anna’s turn now.

Zelda turned to see Urbosa already seated, now in the front-most set of double seats, huddled in Horace’s coat with a brand-new, cheerful, solstice-themed throw over her shoulders and cradling a mug of warm water in her hands.

Zelda smiled. That was battery well-spent.

Horace dropped another throw over Link’s shoulders and pointed at his seat. Link sank into it with a surprised smile, and Anna lifted a 2nd cup from the electric mug-warmer she’d plugged into an outlet on the bus.

“Here you go,” she said.

Link hooked the handle, circled the mug with his other hand, and sighed, appearing to burrow into the layers of warmth. “Thank you so much,” he said.

“Can we drink this?” Urbosa asked.

“It was top-snow,” Zelda said.

“Wonderful,” Urbosa said in throaty tones of relieved gratitude as she sipped it. Link followed suit.

“If you’re all done saving the world,” Botrick said, “I’d like to keep those doors shut from now on. Keep the heat in, save the battery.”

“Yes sir,” Link said.

People generally returned to seats after that, though they’d rearranged. Scowling-woman (Linda) had taken a double-seat near the back with scruffy-man (Zelda still hadn’t caught his name). Zelda looked at the empty seat beside Link, hesitating for a moment.

A puff of air left him with a smile. One of his hands reached under the blanket and patted the seat.

She smiled back, feeling unaccountably shy again. She slid into the seat.

“Thanks,” he said. “Really.”

“You’re welcome. I hope your nose is alright.”

“Heh.” He rubbed it with two fingers. “It’s still kind of numb.”

As he sipped his drink, Zelda reached for her slate—then realized it was now in his pocket.

“Link, would you mind handing me my slate?”

“Oh.” He fished for it and slid it out the gap in the wrapped throw.

“Thank you.” She turned it on.

1:47 am.

“Wow,” Link said.

“Well. On the upside, the storm should end in an hour.”

Link sniffed, looking a little bleary as he stared at the screen. “You have messages.”

She did indeed.

Zelda snorted. She turned to see Link also smiling at her slate. Then he looked at her and his eyes shot wide.

“Oh! Sorry.”

“Why, Link,” she said. “Here I was thinking you were a perfect gentleman.”

That was definitely a spooked face.

“Do you make a habit of reading people’s personal messages?” She kept her face mostly stern, though she allowed a tiny twitch of humor at one corner of her mouth.

His face became blotchier. “Well. I.” He swallowed. “Not. Not usually, no.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Only mine?”

The blotches faded to total pallor. Concern dropped Zelda’s stern-face for her, but he spoke at the same moment it did.

“I’m- really sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just- it was making a racket and I looked.”

She stared at him, confused.

“I thought you were getting a call.”

It took her a moment. Then her lips parted. “You mean earlier.”

He nodded.

“…You read it.”

His shoulders climbed toward his ears. “…Yeah.”

Zelda turned extremely red.

“…Do you… want your coat back?”

“Of course not- I’m not angry, I just-“ a wan smile appeared on her face and she stared at her hands now gripping the slate in her lap. “I feel ridiculous.”

“…Why?”

“Because you knew the whole time.”

“…I did?”

She looked up to find him appearing genuinely confused.

“…Of course?”

He looked first one way, then the other, then back at her. “But… I still don’t.”

She squinted a bewildered eye at him. “How can you not?”

Link blinked at her. Then he shot a quick look over her shoulder—so quick she could’ve missed it if she’d blinked.

She turned to find scruffy-man at a direct shot from his eyeline. He saw her looking and blanched. She gave him a nervous smile and a wave before she turned back to Link, who had a bit of a grimace on.

His look turned sheepish, and he tilted his head. “I- uh. You don’t have to tell me, but I’ve been trying to work out which one of us it was.”

She stared at him. Then her jaw fell open. “You- thought he was the cute one?”

“Well, there were two guys sitting next to you-“

“He’s far older than I am.”

“Some people like that.”

“He’s not usually on the bus with me.”

“Didn’t know that was part of the equation.”

“I’ve been speaking with you most of the time.”

“A lot of people get nervous and talk to everyone but the person they like. You even went all anxious when you tried to give him a cookie, you were blushing, and you did it again just now.”

“Because he believes I’m unhinged!”

Link snorted. Then he smiled. Then he grinned. A lot. “So… does that mean it’s me?” he asked.

Zelda sat suddenly straight up, her face somehow trying to pale and flush at the same time. She swallowed and tried to have a well, obviously face on even though she’d begun to tremble. Her knuckles turned white on her slate. “Of course it’s you.”

He sat up straighter again, too, his eyes flicking between hers. Then he saw her shaking. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“…Are you cold?”

“Not really—you should keep the coat until you’re fully warmed.” She said, her eyes again on her slate’s now-blank screen. The throw rose and fell slowly with his breaths in her vision.

Then he dug around inside it somewhere. He stretched out a bit to reach something, then produced his own slate. He turned it on, sniffing a bit, and unlocked the screen. The battery icon was red.

“Can I show you something?” he asked.

The tremor in his voice made her seek out his face. He swallowed nervously.

“You may,” Zelda said.

He gave her a sheepish smile, opened his messages, and tapped on a conversation with someone named “Cheeter.”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“It’s what I call my sister,” he said with a smirk. He scrolled up to a certain part. “Here.”

And he handed it to her.

Link groaned. “Sorry. She just likes messing with me.”

A deep smile had grown on Zelda’s face. She’d tried to hide it by resting her mouth in her palm as she read. “I can tell,” she said muffled into it. “I- believe you’ve only a little battery life left to respond.”

“Yeah.” He reached for it. Then he smirked at her. “You can look.”

“Oh?”

He shut his slate off and stowed it back in his pocket. He stared at his lap for a moment, his face very red, then dragged his eyes up toward hers with a face clearly hoping for forgiveness. The smile on her face seemed to open his entire expression up.

“You’ve been… babbling about me for months?” she asked.

There it was—that soft laugh of his again.

She loved that laugh.

“You’re… very pretty. And super cute.”

She smiled deeper, her eyes seemingly searching the bus for reasons she might be interpreted as cute.

“There. You just did a cute thing,” he said.

“All I did was be confused.”

“You do this cute thing when you side-step.”

She blinked. “When I… side-step?”

“Yeah! Like when the bus is standing room only and you step left or right, you do it cutely.”

This time, she did stare at him like he was crazy.

“But I didn’t know how kind and thoughtful you were until today,” he said quietly. “Or how smart. Or how good you are at bringing people together.”

“Oh no- no, social skills are most certainly not my strong point.”

“No one else here made a move to help each other get through this until you did. No one else thought about something that legitimately could’ve killed people out there tonight. And it was you who organized this-“ he tugged the throw and lifted his mug- “wasn’t it?”

“Well. It wasn’t a difficult undertaking. We merely had to identify what we had available to bring you two back up to temperature. And,” she said with an involuntary hair-toss, “we only did so because you two braved the storm out of concern for people’s safety.”

A small smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “I can hold a shovel.”

“It didn’t have to be you.”

He shrugged. “I’m in good shape, my clothes were good for it, and I’m fast. It made sense.”

She huffed, squinting at him suspiciously, though she couldn’t stop smiling.

She supposed he could have been showing off.

Just a little.

Now that she knew she’d already caught his eye.

His eyebrows went further and further up under his (now extremely messy) bangs.

A yawn interrupted Zelda’s pondering of his motivations—a spectacular yawn indeed. She held the back of her hand to her mouth, as it didn’t seem to want to shut.

“Oh- nohh-“ Link yawned in response.

“Oh NOOhhh-hhh-hherrr!”

They both looked at Botrick.

He yawned again.

“Yawns’re infectious,” he said. “Especially at 2:30 am.”

“You… were watching us?” Link asked.

“What else do I have for entertainment?”

Any response Zelda might’ve had disappeared into another yawn.

Link gave her a sheepish look. Then he opened the throw with a questioning one.

She blinked at his arm, now outstretched on the plastic seatback, holding one edge of the small blanket.

“If- if you’d like to,” he said.

She only hesitated a moment.

Then she twisted to face forward and sit back in the seat. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, the throw with it, and after a moment, she rested her head on his shoulder.

She peered up at him.

His smile was absolutely adorable.

Zelda awoke pleasantly warm, even on the crown of her head, and with a bleary smile she didn’t understand at first, though her neck hurt a bit. She snuggled deeper into the warmth at her side, and an arm hugged her warmer and closer around her shoulders. Then she remembered.

Her eyelids drifted open to the odd sight of her own coat on someone else’s chest.

Link lifted his cheek from her hair. “Good morning,” he said.

She craned her neck, her chin now on his chest, and she could hardly believe she was looking up at him. “Hello,” she said.

Sunlight backlit his smile.

Then she noticed the commotion outside.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Seems like we’ll be leaving soon. There’s plows.”

“Praise Hylia,” Botrick grumbled, arms crossed and eyes bloodshot.

“Are you alright to drive?” Zelda asked.

“I slept. I just didn’t like it.”

Link cocked his head at him. Then he looked at Zelda. “You officially awake?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He tugged questioningly at the throw.

She nodded, suddenly understanding, and sadly allowed that glorious warmth to be removed.

Link stood, stretched, and draped the throw over Botrick’s shoulders.

Botrick looked like he was going to protest—then he pulled it closed around his neck and muttered a thank you.

“We did save you some mead,” Link said.

“Can’t accept it. Driver can’t open-carry.”

Link’s face fell. “You sure?”

“Yup.”

The bus finally moved at 7:01 am, on 12% battery-life and higgledy-piggledy lanes carved by everything that moved before them. They bumped along at a snail’s pace, bouncing over every snow-hill made between standstill cars and the plow-passes of the last few hours. They all cried out in mixed indignation and laughter with each one, and when they finally felt the incline of the off-ramp, they cheered.

Link and Zelda exchanged coats and hats, and throws, cups, mug-warmers, and the responsibility of trash disposal were distributed among the passengers. Canvas-bag-woman retrieved Link’s bag with the red-cabbage in it, which had rolled toward the back of the bus.

Scruffy-man and Linda got off at the first stop, hand-in…

Hand?

She tromped down the steps without a second glance, but scruffy-man stopped and looked at Zelda. He then raised his hand with the most unnatural-looking smile she’d ever seen.

“I’m… taken,” he said with a nervous laugh.

Then he disembarked.

Link turned to her, wide-eyed. “See?! See, he thought so too!!”

When Urbosa’s turn arrived, she paused by them, too, and handed Zelda her card.

“That’s my number,” she said. “I want to be invited to the wedding.” Then she nodded at Link. “It was a pleasure working with you.”

Zelda stared, transfixed, at the card as the doors closed. Link turned beet red and rubbed the back of his neck.

The weather warning had been an understatement.

Easily three feet of snow had accumulated, with snow drifts and plow-mountains the height of the bus itself. Botrick was stopping to let people off at the edges of intersections rather than stops—otherwise they’d never make it. The sidewalks were haphazardly shoveled, and it appeared that in order to get to one of them, one had to navigate snow-hills the height of the parked cars.

Zelda’s stop was coming up.

She adjusted her hat and donned her gloves. They’d long-since dried.

“You’re next,” Link said.

“Mm-hm.”

“Uhm.” He swallowed. “I- could I-“

“Oh!!” she struggled to tug her slate free of her pocket. How could she have forgotten to get his number? After all that!!

He tried to turn his on, but it remained black. The battery had finally run out.

He rolled his eyes and returned it to his pocket, looking at her as she managed to turn her slate on, at least. The bus rolled to a stop while it was still booting up.

“Oh-“

Link stood and offered her his hand.

She took it.

His smile turned very lopsided. “I’m not far from here,” he said. “I can walk you home?”

She beamed at him.

They waved goodbye as they stamped down the steps. Link landed perfectly in a 2-foot deep bed of crispy snow like a gazelle, his feet punching perfect holes in it. Zelda didn’t quite have that level of grace, but she didn’t disgrace herself either, neither slipping nor wobbling on her way out.

The doors closed, and Botrick began to pull away.

A soft bonking sound drew Zelda’s eyes to the bus.

“OH!” She shouted.

Link spun, his hands outstretched as though ready to grapple. “What?!”

“STOP! STOP!!”

As the bus trundled, a strange little package bounced off its side, spinning merrily on the end of a length of twine.

“Oh NO!” Link yelled, and suddenly he was off like a shot with snow-mountain-climbing angled feet, hurrying to the top of the peak in that direction.

Zelda packed a massive snowball and threw it at the windows.

The bus squeaked to a halt, and the door opened.

“What in Hebra are you two DOING?!” Botrick yelled.

Zelda cupped her hands around her mouth. “THE PIGEON!!”

“Hylia save us!” floated Botrick’s voice as he put the bus into park.

They stumbled, slipped, climbed, and giggled their way to Zelda’s little house three streets straight in from the stop, their arms around each other’s shoulders half the time, not because they had to be, but because they couldn’t seem to help it.

A package of frozen pigeon hard as a brick (and accompanying peas) dangled from one of Link’s hands. He didn’t want to put it in the bag with either his red cabbage or eggs.

Only a small amount of mead remained in the bottle in Zelda’s bag.

When they reached Zelda’s walkway, Link waded through the snow to make a path for her—no one had been home to shovel. She thanked him the only proper way—by packing and throwing snowballs at his back.

“If I hadn’t just cut a path for you, I’d throw you in the snow,” he said.

She threw a snowball at his front.

“That’s it.” He stalked toward her.

She eeped and spun, but he was quicker. He had her in his arms in an instant, one under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She squeaked and wrapped her arms around his neck hard.

He swung her to the side. “One.”

She gasped and clung harder.

And again- “Two.”

She squeaked more.

“Three!” he said with a swing she was sure would send her into the neighbor’s yard, but he pulled her back to his chest with that soft laugh of his.

She looked up at him with trepidation.

He twinkled at her.

Then he walked her sideways, slowly and carefully so her feet and hair wouldn’t drag in the snow, up the steps, and deposited her safely at her front door.

She didn’t want to let go of his neck—but she did. She made a show of brushing the snow off his coat.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Any time.”

And then it occurred she still hadn’t gotten his number. Her smile fell.

He breathed a soft puff of air. “Well. I’d better dig my way home and do something with this pigeon. I-“ he hesitated. “I’d really like. To. Um…” he scratched the back of his head. “See you again.”

She curled one of her hands around his. “Did you… have plans today?”

“Today?” he asked.

“Yes. Anyone expecting you?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, then.” She eyed his clothing. “If- if you’d like to, you’re welcome to come in.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at his still-spinning package of peas and poultry. Then he smiled. “I could cook for you.”

Her head jerked up. “Oh?!”

“Yeah! I don’t have the apples anymore, but I can still braise the red cabbage, and I can still do the pigeon as long as you have some oil and herbs, or even if you don’t, really, I can figure something out.”

“…I have apples,” she said.

“Well then! Uh-“ he paused, looking down at himself. “Although – maybe I’d better stop at my place first. I’ll be soaked.”

She shook her head. “You’ll end up snowy all over again on your way back. Unless there are any other reasons you wish to go that you’re uncomfortable telling me, in which case that’s completely fine, I propose instead that you borrow some of my comfy pants.”

“Comfy pants?”

“Indeed. Unreasonably large sweatpants I would have absolutely no business wearing in public, but which are utterly inoffensive to the tactile senses.”

He looked so deeply into her eyes. “They sound amazing.”

“They are.”

He nodded. “That settles it. Your pants, my food.”

“Happy Solstice,” she said with a grin.

“Happy Solstice,” he chuckled.

As they crossed the threshold, kicked off their snow-coated boots and hung their hats and coats, an earlier worry crossed Zelda’s mind: that he, unlike her, had no aversion to unpredictability.

She’d thought that might be a point of friction.

Relief widened her smile even further—for she’d been completely incorrect. This event had been utterly unpredictable in every way, but unless she was very mistaken, it was one of the best things that had ever happened to her.

He turned from the coat hooks, caught her eye, and flushed, and it occurred to Zelda that she may not be the only person in the room who had a little difficulty navigating social situations.

She took his hand again. “In case it isn’t clear—and it may not be, these things confuse me—I like you very much.”

He flushed deeper. “I like you very much, too.”

“And I am interested in kissing you.”

He seemed to almost laugh, but it turned quickly into a sideways smile that morphed into a swallow, then a nervous face. He squeezed her hand, and his next breaths arrived faster. “I am- very interested in kissing you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Very?”

He nodded with a small, puffed laugh.

She took his other hand in hers. “But I will not pressure you.”

“Pressure me?”

“Yes. You appear nervous.”

“I am,” he said, with another swallow. “You’re-“ and another swallow- “so beautiful.”

Her breath caught. “And you- are extremely handsome.”

He shrugged.

It made her laugh a little. She brushed one of his bangs away from his eyes.

It seemed to pull them together, somehow.

The tip of his nose touched hers—then slid toward her cheek—and their lips met soft like feathers, with a silent thrill that made Zelda’s body rise, her hand warm on his cheek. When their lips parted, she could feel him trembling everywhere, even in the way he breathed on her skin.

“Best bus ride ever,” he said.

She found herself giggling, and his soft laugh turned into full-on laughter as he curled his arms up her back and she wrapped hers hard around his neck, an embrace of joy and of hope for a spectacular new year.

~~The End~~

[Note: A huge thank-you to my partner who let me borrow his phone for the purpose of making the images!]

#the legend of zelda #fanfiction #botw au #modern au #romcom #romantic comedy #humor #fluff #midna's merry mixup #ah public buses #a tiny bit of strong language #embedded images with alt text

9 notes · View notes

crazylittlejester · 9 months ago

Note

maybe wars and twi talking about their interactions with midna?

I got a little carried away here, ngl 😭 I’m not sure if this is what you meant specifically, but here you go! (It’s 675 words)

It was a quiet evening, the rustling leaves and crashing waves consumed Twilight’s thoughts as he sat with his bare feet dangling in the river. He tried to let the sensations of the living world around him fill his mind so he didn’t have to focus on the ache in his chest where he felt something missing.

He’d stepped away from the group for a moment, overwhelmed by how loud they got when it came time to unwind from the day and tell stories, but he hadn’t been prepared for how far his mind would wander when he was alone. He almost wished he’d just stayed with his brothers.

“Twi?” A soft voice called and he jumped, whipping around to find the captain walking towards him. “Oh, there you are.”

Warriors had changed into his sleep tunic, and he looked a bit like he’d just woken up from a nap, his normally perfect hair was a bit messy and he blinked slowly like he was only half awake. He took off his boots before sitting down next to Twilight on the river’s bank. Twilight expected his brother to start rambling on about something, maybe to even start complaining about the frigid water they were both dangling their feet in, but the captain stayed surprisingly silent.

The absence of chatter allowed Twilight’s mind to drift further. Memories of his journey, his adventure with Midna came to the front of his mind, and he found himself fighting to hold back tears the longer he thought of her. He missed her so much some days his chest ached.

“Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?” Twilight whispered eventually when he was unable to bear the silence.

“Hm?” Warriors hummed softly, turning his head to look at him. Twilight couldn’t bring himself to look the captain in the eyes just yet so he kept his gaze trained on the water.

“They say it’s the only time our world intersects with theirs…”

“You talkin’ about the Twili?” Warriors asked, and Twilight’s head snapped so fast to look at him his neck hurt.

“You know about the Twili??” He choked out, eyes wide. The captain looked frustratingly calm, as if this were a very normal conversation for two friends to be having at dusk.

“Yeah,” the man shrugged. “I uh, I knew this one Twili girl. She absolutely kicked my ass once in a training ring, and I couldn’t look her in the eyes again for a week after because she bet me I couldn’t last five minutes in a fight against her and she was right...”

“Sounds like the one I knew…” Twilight said softly, looking back down at his lap. “

“Yeah, she rode around on this spirit wolf too,” Warriors continued. “Said it reminded her of someone she had to leave behind.”

He stared back up at the captain, unaware of how he’d stopped breathing. A spirit wolf?? Someone she left behind??

“H- How did you know her?” Twilight forced himself to ask.

Warriors let out a small sigh, leaning back and crossing his legs. “She came to help us fight a battle I don’t think we could’ve won on our own. She wasn’t the only one, a lot of people from across time came to help us.

“Across time??”

“Yeah,” the captain nodded, taking in a deep breath before he went on. “I… I know she was important to you, Twilight. I figured out it was you she was talking about all that time when I found out you were Wolfie.”

“You really knew Midna?” He whispered. Warriors smiled at him softly.

“Yeah, I did,” his brother told him. “She missed you a lot, I can only imagine how much you miss her too.”

Tears were blurring his vision, and Twilight had to look away, but when Warriors reached out to pull him close, he let himself melt into his brother’s side. He was glad the captain had come to find him, as much as he missed Midna, he felt a little less alone.

<- Prev. || Next ->

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu wars #lu twilight #jes talks #jes ask #jes fic #jes mini fic

52 notes · View notes

lyrakeaton · 11 months ago

Text

Chronicling The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess - The Final Entry

Gosh, what a game huh?

I'm not even sure where I want to begin with this. The Final Entry. I have so much to say. So much I've been thinking about throughout this wonderful little game. Where do I even start?

Well, I suppose I'll start off by saying that I had a very wonderful time with this game. It's my first time playing a game with the secondary intent to analyze and write down my thoughts here on my blog. It's been a delight to do so, and I'm looking forward to analyzing other games in this manner going forward.

As for my thoughts on Twilight Princess: I think it's an excellent game, with a lot of heart and a commendable focus on story and emotional connections. This game has dealt me a few sour blows that stick out like an ugly blemish on an otherwise spotless surface. But those blemishes in turn give contrast to just how competent the rest of the game really was.

In fact, that's what I would love to call this game more than anything else. Competent. It was made by people who knew what they were doing, and were fucking excellent at doing it. It shows how much heart the people involved put into this title, despite how under cooked and rushed it felt at a few moments.

One of my favorite moments in the ending part of this game, which is also one of the clearest signs of how this game was developed, is what you see above.

Your allies come in to save you from a sticky situation. It's a lovely moment, showing the care and respect that these characters have fostered for you, after all the time you've spent working together for this common goal.

And yet, it also shows off how much this game wanted to do, but couldn't. What it tried to say, and what it left unsaid.

Because these people just show up. You don't tell them when or where you're going, and neither do they show up later to help you. They show up for this scripted event where they get to save you from a menial threat, so that they can show their appreciation for Link always having their backs. It leaves me wanting a bit more, and wondering what potentially was planned before or after.

And these moments aren't rare. There are many moments, that become more frequent as the game progresses, where it feels like the developers had more to say or do, but didn't have the time to implement it.

And I think no point shows this better than the presence of Ganondorf, and Midna's true form.

Ganondorf is name dropped once in the story, but isn't elaborated upon. Later, he shows up in this weird, incorporeal form, which Zant interprets as a god. This spectre then combines into Zant(?) to take over him as a sort of puppet. As such, Zant is kind of just thrown aside so that the player can have their badass final boss against Ganondorf. I was honestly a bit disappointed.

But not necessarily because it was yet another Ganondorf ending. But because there was so much more room to explore Zant and his relationship with Ganondorf, that I really wanted to see.

I think another sign of this was Midna's true form. Her true form was first shown in a cutscene, right before the second to last dungeon of the game. Before this, we have never even heard of Midna being anything but the imp we've known since the start of the game. And it makes me wonder a lot about what the developers wanted for Midna. Did they always intend for her to be this humanoid form? Or is their vision of Midna actually the imp we spend the whole game connecting with?

I ask this because Midna's imp form appears later in Hyrule Warriors alongside her true form, which makes me wonder if the devs couldn't decide which form they liked more. It's a bit of a weird moment for me because I love imp Midna a lot, but never got to see or interact with her true form self until after the journey was over.

What's more, Midna then destroys the Mirror of Twilight. This moment made no sense to me at all. I couldn't justify it, or understand how Midna would justify it. Why would she do this? Zelda just made a small speech about how their worlds are two sides of the same coin. Midna then says that as long as the Mirror exists, they may meet again, only to say "see you later" before destroying the mirror.

I understand this was likely thought of from the start, as Midna establishes that Zant could only fragment the mirror due to his incomplete power. But Midna, having regained her true power, is the only one capable of utterly destroying it. What I really wish though, is for the game to have explored why she feels the need to do this, because I think it would serve the game better if it were spelled out. It's a genuinely sad moment! I'll never get to see Midna again! Why is the credits continuing with the triumphant music!

It hurts, man. But it does make sense, after I thought about it. Because the mirror was what allowed the Twili to escape into the Light World and cause havoc, so, by destroying the mirror, that connection is severed, forever. No more evil forces invading each others worlds, causing problems.

Which makes Midna's words all the more tear-jerking. 'Cause she won't see us later. She'll never get to see us again. But she doesn't have the heart to say goodbye. So she says she'll "see us later."

I'm not sure how to feel. I think I feel sad, and a smidgen disappointed. I mean, all this time, we've been fighting to help Midna restore peace to her realm, and to prevent Ganondorf/Zant from wreaking havoc on the Light World. And then, only for Midna to get the reward she deserves so much, and yet she doesn't get what she seems to actually want, which is to stay with Link. She cries, knowing she'll never see him again.

I think that right there shows the beauty and magic of this game. No other Zelda game has grabbed a hold of me with its story, its characters quite like this. I felt emotionally invested throughout, and I truly wanted to make good for this world, and to help Midna. It even feels selfish to say that I wish she could have stayed an imp and gone on more adventures with Link. But I think narratively, it is not only perfect this way, but it also couldn't end any other way.

Because not all stories should end completely happy. I think it does a bigger service to showcase how meaningful these emotional connections truly are by taking something from us in this way, than it does if everything ended like a story book.

It hurts, because we care.

This is the best outcome, where everyone can be happy, with the clear exception of Midna's and Links relationship to each other. That meant something, which is made all the more clear because of them never getting to see each other.

In closing...

More than anything, I wish this game had a bit more time to fill in the empty rows before and after some of its more significant beats. But still, I am so grateful that what is here was fantastic from beginning to end. And I'm glad that regardless of what was lost before the print to disc, what was left was something forming a beautiful and complete whole. A whole that I love with my whole heart. Wholeheartedly.

Thank you Shiggy Miyamiggy for this wonderful game. Please don't shy away from this kind of narrative and emotional focus when making future Zelda titles. I want to cry when it's all over, they way Twilight Princess made me. What you've got here is truly special, and I'm so very glad I got to experience it.

#zelda: twilight princess #tloz: twilight princess #the legend of zelda: twilight princess #TLOZ:TP Journal #the legend of zelda #twilight princess #lyraposting #midna #midnaposting #link #zelda #zant #ganondorf

28 notes · View notes

a-sin-to-be-rin · 3 months ago

Text

When Shadow Meets Light

Midna knows very little about the Light world. She knows that it’s warm, almost insufferably so. She knows her eyes hurt if she stays there for too long. And she knows that any attack from a being of the Twilight would be devastating to a being of the Light. But she’s never known much more than that. She never needed to.

Until today. The Twilight is indeed devastating to her human, and she has no idea how to fix it.

---

Midna hates the Light world. She hates, hates, hates it with a passion. The Light is too bright, too hot, too intolerable on her skin. She’s relegated to shadows, restricted by the position of the sun.

So Midna knows how difficult - perhaps impossible - it is for a creature of the Twilight to live in the Light. She certainly can’t.

So it really can’t be her fault when she assumes that the monster that bites Link is simply a Deku Baba.

The monster jumps out from behind, catching Link off-guard. It clamps its jaws around Link’s sword arm. Gasping, Link grabs the sword in his right hand and slashes the demon plant’s stem. He pries it off and runs it through once more, just to be safe, but the damage has been done.

“Careful,” Midna warns. “Remember what happened last time?”

Link gives her a flat look, clearly uninterested in discussing the last time he was bitten by a Deku Baba.

“I told you it was venomous,” Midna says anyway. “But nooo. We aren’t going to waste a potion on that.”

Link sighs. Twists his lips. Glares at Midna for a minute. Then, resigned, Link digs a potion from his belt. He locks eyes with Midna while slowly, pointedly popping the cork from the bottle and downing the whole thing.

“Yes, very good,” Midna snipes. “You learned how to follow directions. Amazing.”

Rather than give her attitude, Link drops the bottle back in his pouch and brushes the monster plant goop from his arm.

And then they carry on. Link fights his way through the rest of the Forest Temple. Midna provides helpful hints and hilarious commentary. (Link seems to ignore her, but Midna tries not to take it personally. The guy clearly doesn’t understand comedy at all.)

Truly, nothing out of the ordinary happens until Link is saddled on Epona and headed for Hyrule Field. It’s subtle, the difference, but Midna notices it immediately.

“Link, what-?”

But Link must notice it too. He pulls on the reins, and Epona slows to a trot. He blinks a few times, but it does nothing to fix the paleness of his skin or the sweat running down his temples.

“Why are we slowing down?”

Link shakes his head. Reaches over to massage his left arm. He’s confused, and honestly? Midna is too.

“Did that giant plant guy get you? Or… Or did the monkey give you fleas or something?”

Another head shake, though Link brings Epona to a stop. Then he removes his left bracer and rolls up his sleeve.

And then Midna sees it. If she had a particularly strong bond to Link, she might feel scared. As it is, she’s just left curious.

Link’s arm reeks of death. Spiderwebs of darkness bloom in a crescent shape, lining up exactly with where the Deku Baba’s bite mark would have been.

“What is that?” Though Midna is pretty sure she already knows.

Link looks over at her. One eyebrow is arched in confusion. His eyes flick to his arm and then back to her again. He’s asking her.

“It’s not Twilight.” She’s certain of that. “But it’s obviously from the Deku Baba. Maybe it was actually a Shadow Baba? I don’t know how a Twilight creature could survive like that, but I’m not sure what else it could be.”

There’s a nod in agreement, though it’s not particularly enthusiastic. Midna doesn’t have to ask to know his next question.

“I’m not sure what could fix it, though. I’ve never seen a Light creature survive an attack from the Twilight.”

Link sniffs, turning away and grunting, digging his heels into Epona’s sides. The horse continues its easy trot forward.

“What, so you’re just going to leave it?”

He shakes his head. Points to the west.

“What is that? Your village?”

A sharp nod. But instead of raising his head at the end of the nod, like anyone else would, Link’s chin drops to his chest. He slumps in the saddle and topples over the side. There’s the stupendous crash of sword against shield as Link slams into the ground. Startled, the horse whinnies, taking off in a gallop. With its shadow gone, Midna has to rush to Link’s significantly smaller shadow.

“Wake up!” she yells. How is she supposed to find the fused shadows if her ride there is sleeping on the ground? “C’mon, you stupid, stupid wolf!”

She has no hands to shake him. No feet to walk herself away. She’s stuck in Link’s crumpled shadow.

“Link!” she shouts, thinking his name might rouse him. But his eyes are screwed shut, breathing halting and uneven. He’s paler than before, and it doesn’t look like he’s waking up any time soon.

Bold of Midna to assume anything about the guy, though. He’s dragging his eyelids open with his next breath, eyes hazy and confused.

“Ugh, don’t do that, you idiot,” Midna grouses. Because this really is Link’s fault. He shouldn’t have been distracted. That Shadow Baba shouldn’t have even gotten close enough to bite. “C’mon, use a potion or a fairy or something.”

Link’s good arm pats his belt, but all he finds are a few empty bottles.

“Well, I don’t know, can’t you just lick the inside of an old potion bottle? There’ve gotta be a few drops left in there.” Midna really is grasping at straws here.

Link appears to consider it. He turns a bottle in his hand before it slips from his grasp, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“Oh no you don’t.” Midna should be worried. But she doesn’t even know Link. No, she’s not concerned. She’s livid. “You wake up right now, you useless wolf! I am not going to just sit here and watch you die, do you hear me? If someone else comes along, I will abandon you!”

And then there’s a far-off shout. “Link!”

Midna freezes. Disappears completely within his shadow. With luck, whoever is looking for Link will find him. With extra luck, they’ll be able to fix him, and he’ll be back to finding fused shadows in an hour.

It takes a long time for the owner of the voice to finally stumble upon the glade. Midna had no idea voices could travel so far. That, or she had no idea humans could move so slowly.

“Link!” A man in strange, layered clothing hops off of Epona, rushes up, and kneels beside Link. “Hey! Wake up!”

Good luck, Midna thinks bitterly. He obviously doesn’t know what that means.

But apparently, Link does, in fact, know what “wake up” means. Because he’s groaning and reaching out for the stranger.

“It’s alright,” the man soothes, noticing Link’s injured arm and studying it with a thoughtful frown. “It’s alright. Can you stand?” Cautiously, he sits Link up and pulls Link’s good arm over his shoulders. They stand with a grunt from the man and a whine from Link. “Attaboy,” the man encourages. “Just to Epona, okay?” They hobble along, with the man doing far more legwork than Link, and Midna is forced to creep along at their excruciating pace.

“There you go. You’ve got it. Nearly there.” The man’s reassurances are endless and gentle. Part of Midna hates Link for getting himself into this mess. A bigger part of her hates him for having someone to get him out of the mess. Someone who seems to truly, genuinely care.

Midna hasn’t felt something like that. Not in a very, very long time.

“Okay, real easy now,” the man says upon arriving at the horse’s side. “One foot in the stirrup. And… There we go. Think you can stay awake ‘til we get to the village?”

Link’s response is to nearly fall from the saddle once more. The man hurriedly grabs Link’s shoulder, steps into the stirrup, and swings his leg over the horse’s back. He wraps one arm around Link’s middle, keeping him upright, and grabs the reins with his other hand. “C’mon,” he urges, nudging the horse forward. He doesn’t let her move any faster than a walk.

Once again, Midna is irritated by the fragility and speed (or lack thereof) of humans. Why is she trapped in this monotonous trudge forward? Would it kill them to go a little faster? Midna kind of has some very time-sensitive tasks on the agenda.

But whatever. Midna endures because she has no other option. They eventually make it to the village. A few women stand near the entrance, anxiously shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with their hair. The moment they spot Epona, they rush up, escorting the horse into the village.

“Rusl, what happened?”

“Is he… Is he alive?”

“Yes,” the man - Rusl - confirms. But there’s no comfort in his voice. It’s all tension and gritted teeth. “We need to move quickly.”

They wind down the path, passing a few small homes and shops. They stop at one of the last cottages, and Rusl slides off the saddle, quickly pulling Link down with him.

Link still hasn’t awoken, and though Midna has told herself she doesn’t care, the concern of the villagers makes her tense.

“Uli!” Rusl calls, dragging Link’s limp form into the house. “Get water and bandages!”

Suddenly, the tiny home is full of people, all bustling about. The women prepare supplies, while a large man helps Rusl carry Link to the bed.

“Should’ve told me,” the large man says. “You’re still hurt. I could’ve gone after him.”

“Not now, Bo, okay?”

Bo seems to respect this. “What do you need?”

“For now? Space.”

Two women set the supplies on the bedside table, and Rusl nods, dismissing them and Bo. Only the pregnant woman stays, hovering beside Rusl.

“Help me get his shirt off,” he asks.

The woman begins to cut the shirt off with a knife, but she pauses when she finds the chainmail underneath. “Rusl…”

Rusl doesn’t slow for a moment, wrenching Link’s uncooperative arms free and ripping the mail off. It looks uncomfortable, but Midna supposes Rusl understands just how severe an injury like this is.

Once the last of Link’s many layers are removed, Rusl wipes down Link’s arm. The decay seems to have grown, its tendrils branching up to nearly his shoulder and down past his elbow. “Looks like… The skin looks dead, Uli.” He looks up at the woman, fear shining in his eyes.

Uli looks herself, setting a lantern on the table to see better. But she seems to come to the same conclusion, grimacing. Then she places a hand on his forehead. “It’s killing him, Rusl. I… I don’t know if we should… if we can save his arm.”

Rusl swallows hard. Begins to wash the decaying area more thoroughly. “Tell Bo to go to the spring. Send Sera and Pergie too. We… I’ll hold off as long as I can, but until then, the best thing they can do is pray.”

They’re so serious about the whole thing. But humans die so quickly… die so easily. Why are they so bothered about losing this one? It’s bound to happen eventually.

It occurs to Midna that she knows nothing about humans and their sickly sweet sentiment. Truly, they’re bigger fools than she ever realized if they worry about something so trivial as another human’s death.

Uli disappears. Rusl tends to the wound, pouring different liquids and salves on it, which usually results in Link yelling or groaning or kicking Rusl in the gut. (Okay, so he only kicks Rusl once, but Midna still thinks it’s pretty funny.)

By the time Uli has returned, Link is stirring again.

“I’m here,” Rusl assures him. “Uli’s here too. You’re safe.”

Link’s eyes flit around the room. He winces, hand shaking as he reaches for his injured arm.

“No, no, don’t look at that,” Uli scolds, taking his free hand in hers. “We’re taking care of it, okay?”

Link looks up at them with something Midna has never seen in his eyes before:

Complete and utter trust.

“Just rest, Link. We’re not going anywhere.”

Oh. Midna feels… something. She’s not sure what exactly it is. “Jealous rage” comes to mind, but “grief” might be the more accurate descriptor.

“Think you can drink a potion?” Rusl holds up a canteen. “Might help.”

They had a potion? All this time, lamenting and worrying and whining, and they had a damn potion this whole time?? Midna nearly flies out of Link’s shadow. She can’t handle the incompetence much longer.

Link doesn’t seem to process the pair’s words anymore, but he’s compliant as Rusl helps him sit up and presses the canteen to his lips.

But it’s the strangest thing. After drinking the potion and settling back, Link doesn’t look any better. He’s still sickly and confused and gross. Did Rusl know the potion wouldn’t do anything? Midna supposes he’s right, because after Link was bitten, the potion only stopped the bleeding. But she really had hoped the potion would do something.

Because it would be inconvenient if her traveling companion died. That’s the only reason. She doesn’t care about him at all.

(She doesn’t care about him at all. She does not care, and maybe if she keeps telling herself that, she’ll actually believe it.)

Link’s eyes close, and Uli brushes the hair from his forehead. “You’re safe,” she repeats, over and over. All the while, Rusl watches Link’s arm. Midna wonders when he’ll give up and cut it off. It has to be soon, right? The deadened area must be close to his shoulder by now. What are they waiting for? A miracle?

“Rusl!” The door slams open, and Rusl is on his feet, sword in hand and standing protectively in front of Uli. Midna has never seen a human move so quickly. Not even Link.

But then Rusl realizes who it is. That big man from before. Bo or something.

“What?”

Bo is in a frenzy, shoving a glowing bottle into Rusl’s hands. “There was a… a fairy at the… spring.” He’s panting hard.

Rusl moves with purpose, striding back to Link’s side and opening the bottle above Link’s arm. All the while, he murmurs prayers under his breath. “Goddess, protect him. Goddess, heal him. Goddess, save him.”

The fairy - a ball of Light that makes Midna cringe as it approaches - circles around the wound. It takes a long, long moment, whizzing about like it has somewhere else to be. Midna wonders if this really will work. Finds herself wishing that it will, though the likelihood that a fairy can reverse decay is… low at best.

Finally, the fairy zips out the window, forever lost. Rusl leans over to check the wound, and Midna finds herself doing the same.

“It’s gone,” Rusl says, and he’s right. The dead skin is gone, once again healthy and unmarred.

“He’s still warm,” Uli notes, patting Link’s cheek in an attempt to rouse him.

Link is far quicker to wake up this time. His eyes still have a feverish shine to them, and he falls asleep shortly after, but the pallor of his skin is gone.

Midna is relieved. Because she doesn’t need to find a new adventurer, not because he’s looking healthier.

“The infection must still be in his system,” Uli suggests. “I guess even fairies have their limits.”

“How did you find the fairy?” Rusl’s expression is still grim, but his eyes belie his relief. “I’ve never seen one at the spring.”

Bo shakes his head. “I’m not… It must have…” He sighs. “The goddesses must have something big planned for him. Sera and Pergie and I went to the spring to pray, and all of a sudden, there was this fairy in my face. Just-” He holds a hand close to his face. “-like that. I never seen a fairy do that before. It was just…” He shakes his head again. “Link is favored by the goddesses.”

Rusl must know this already, and Midna wonders just how important this guy really is to the goddesses. He’s not all that special, really.

“We’ll watch him tonight,” Uli offers. “I imagine he can recover, but in case he gets worse…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. It must be unthinkable.

“Good idea,” Rusl says softly, squeezing Uli’s hand.

---

The night passes uneventfully. Midna is bored the whole time, though she does listen to the humans occasionally.

“If Link is here, do you think Colin is…”

“I’m not sure. We can ask him when he wakes.”

It sounds miserable, this little village. The humans speak of missing children - Colin and Beth and some other names Midna doesn’t care to remember - and attacks from dangerous, boar-riding monsters. They talk about the fear of never seeing their son again. They cry and whine and…

They comfort each other.

Midna stops listening.

---

Link wakes the next morning. He looks better than the night before, though that’s a poor standard, because before, he looked dead.

“Link, you’re up!” Uli sounds surprised, and she looks like she desperately wants to say something. But whatever it is, she doesn’t say right away. “Are you feeling okay?” She presses her hand to Link’s cheek. “Your fever must have broken.”

Link smiles. Gives a thumbs-up. It makes Uli laugh, though it’s a sorry, broken little laugh.

“Link, I’m sorry to ask so soon, but I need to know. Colin, the others, did you… Where are they?”

There’s a heavy pause. Link looks at her with regretful ignorance. Sorry, I’ve got no clue, Midna bets he’s thinking.

“Oh. Weren’t you taken with them?”

Link shakes his head.

Uli swallows hard, nodding slightly. “Oh. Okay. So I… I guess you haven’t seen them.”

His expression is mournful. Earlier, Midna had been surprised at how much the villagers cared about Link. And now she’s realizing that Link cares about them just as much. She’d assumed that Link was… no one, really. Someone who was a convenient solution to her problem and nothing more.

Apparently not.

---

Link is fully healed and ready to leave the next day. Rusl and Uli help him pack, talking about missing children, important quests, dangerous monsters. At one point, Uli suggests Link stay in the village, so they don’t lose him again.

Thankfully, Link doesn’t seem to agree with this plan, though there are promises made to find said missing children. Midna hopes he doesn’t plan on looking for them before they’ve found all the fused shadows.

Link leaves the village on foot, unhitching Epona on his way out. It’s not until they’ve reached the bridge that Midna makes her presence known.

“Ugh, finally,” she groans, because she doesn’t want Link to think she was worried about him. (She was not worried, thank you very much.) “I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”

The slightest of smirks curls his lips. He shakes his head and puts a foot in one stirrup. But Midna speaks before he can hoist himself up.

“Hey, um… Back there… Those people really cared about you. I mean, I don’t know what’s to care about, really,” Midna adds quickly, folding her arms. “You’re a stupid wolf who got himself hurt and delayed us getting the fused shadows.” And then she hesitates, voice softer than before. “But… maybe there’s a reason they like you so much. Guess I’ll find out?”

Link tips his head. Considers her for a moment. Then shrugs.

“Yeah,” Midna hums. “Guess I’ll find out.” She disappears in Link’s shadow, and he mounts Epona, setting a course for Hyrule Field.

#whumptober2024 #no.16 #necrosis #wound cleaning #twilight princess #fic #mute link #midna #ordon village #hurt/comfort #cross posted on ao3

9 notes · View notes

sasoop · 5 months ago

Text

Retribution

HW Link/Ravio

Summary:

“Can I kiss you?”

Link’s first thought is, ‘I’m pretty sure we’re doing this whole maybe-relationship thing in the wrong order.’, and his second is the realization of, ‘He took off his hood.’

Read on Ao3

Or read below ↓

“Mr. Captain Hero, sir?” Ravio’s voice sounds behind him. Link startles minutely before quickly turning around to face him, nearly knocking over his bottle of ink onto the reports he’d been reviewing. He must be especially tired to not have noticed someone entering his tent, he’s getting careless.

“What’s wrong, Ravio?” Willing his voice to not reveal how much he was just caught off guard, he lets himself calm down at the presence of the other. There’s no need to straighten up or stand at attention for an uncaring individual like Ravio. Although he finds himself growing concerned when Ravio lets the flap of his tent drop as he enters with a glaring lack of skip or bounce in his step.

“Nothing much,” The rabbit says with far less enthusiasm than what Link has gotten so used to, “Just wanted to try something.”

Link frowns and slowly places his quill down, now giving Ravio his full attention.

“This isn’t like you, did something happen?” He vocalizes his thoughts aloud. Ravio chuckles nervously, but shakes his head.

“No, my cowardice is trying to get the best of me, is all.”

Link gives a noncommittal hum. For a self-proclaimed coward, Ravio rarely shows any fears in social interactions. Unless he’s speaking to a particularly powerful individual whom he feared retaliation from like Impa or Midna, he has no qualms about pestering someone—or overall being a general pain in the ass. Seeing the ears of his rabbit hood lowered so far down and pressed against his back is an odd, unfamiliar sight.

Link decides he doesn’t like it at all.

“Well, I’m willing to hear you out, at least.” He offers, admittedly curious about what exactly has Ravio acting in this manner. Ravio has come up to him countless times with absolutely absurd requests that he had no shame asking him to do, to the point that Link had nearly believed him to be shameless.

Yet here he sits and watches how that very same man stands before him and wrings his hands together, the repeated glances at the entrance barely noticeable under his hood. Link isn’t too sure what he’s worried about, especially considering the fact it’s usually Link himself that’s the one worrying about people coming in, not Ravio.

“My meeting was not too long ago, and considering how late it is, nobody should come inside, sans an emergency. Anything important enough would’ve been told to me during the meeting.” Despite feeling like this situation is awfully backwards, Link attempts to reassure him. It doesn’t do much, judging by how Ravio’s shoulders are still so stiff.

“Right.” Is Ravio’s equally stiff response. Then it falls silent for so long Link half wonders if Ravio is just testing his patience. Regardless of the quite honestly uncomfortable silence, Link continues to wait instead of pushing him. It is rather difficult not to shuffle around, though.

“Can you close your eyes?” Ravio suddenly blurts out. Link stills and turns his attention away from a random crack on the ground back to Ravio.

“What?” Befuddlement leaks into his voice before he can stop it, but in spite of that, Ravio doesn’t give further clarification behind his request. Instead, he continues to wordlessly wring his hands together.

“I…” Surely Ravio notices how suspicious of a request that is, especially with the way he’s acting? He’s never doubted Ravio before, and he certainly doesn’t want to now. But the Rogue Forces have been growing in number as the war drags on longer and longer. Citizens and soldiers alike are tired of the war. Ravio is tired of the war.

He wouldn’t join the Rogue Forces, right?

“... Alright.” Link manages to say through his heart threatening to leap out his throat. It aches with betrayal that hasn’t even happened yet—with betrayal that won’t happen. He’s tired and being stupid, Ravio would tease him and point out this fact, demanding that he chill out and then help him do exactly that.

Yet the Ravio here only gives a sigh of relief and steps closer. Link reminds himself not to stiffen up because this is Ravio and Ravio wouldn’t betray him for some Force that he always complains about, and even if he did, he would never try to hurt him in such a dirty way after everything they’ve—

“You can’t open your eyes, okay?”

Link doesn’t trust his voice enough to verbally respond, instead he simply closes his eyes to obey Ravio’s request. More horrible silence before the faint rustle of fabric is heard. Despite his internal mantra of ‘Don’t flinch’, he does, and his eyes fly open to snap up to Ravio again. Ravio stands frozen before him, arms raised with aborted movement. The rabbit looks startled, but apparently Link isn’t doing as great of a job of looking calm as he thinks he is, because understanding quickly reflects on Ravio’s face.

“Oh.” Is Ravio’s breathed out response. Slowly, carefully, as if he were allowing Link to track his every movement, he lowers his hands to instead hold them out for Link to see.

“You’re jumpier than me right now, Mr. Captain Hero, sir. I’m sorry that I’m the one to have caused that this time.” Ravio softly murmurs as Link takes in the sight of the other’s completely empty hands. He’s both grateful and incredibly ashamed that he feels relieved by something that should be so obvious.

Nonetheless, Ravio’s voice holds no malice nor blame. Just as slowly as before, Ravio raises his hands up until he’s cupping Link’s jaw and tilting his head up to meet his gaze. Or rather, the hideous gaze of that horrible hood of his. Link snorts at the ridiculous sight and leans into the gentle touch.

“... It’s fine. Sorry for opening my eyes.” He’s still not sure why exactly Ravio wanted him to do this, but he has nothing to worry about. This is the same Ravio as always. If he couldn't trust Ravio, he couldn't trust anyone—and quite honestly, Link never wants to reach that point.

A chuckle, “Just listen to me this time.” Ravio playfully places a hand over his eyes to block out his vision. Link decides to play along with a huff and closes his eyes again, letting Ravio have his way with his little idea. But the hand doesn't retract and Link can feel Ravio’s heistance even without being able to see him.

“I will.” Link says, then upon realizing that there was probably too much of a gap between Ravio’s statement and his own, he clumsily added, “Listen to you, I mean.”

The giggle Ravio lets out sounds genuine, and Link tries not to frown like a child would pout, as he’d undoubtedly be called out for it. But his unintellectual response serves its intended purpose of relaxing the unusually nervous rabbit. Ravio finally pulls away but doesn’t step back. Instead, the faint rustling of fabric is heard again.

“Mr. Captain Hero, sir?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Link’s first thought is, ‘I’m pretty sure we’re doing this whole maybe-relationship thing in the wrong order.’, and his second is the realization of, ‘He took off his hood.’ Link resists the urge to take a peek of the face Ravio so resolutely hides with all his might. Ravio has never broken his trust before, and Link absolutely refuses to be the one to be the one to break it instead. He pours so much determination into keeping his eyes shut that he’s late to notice he hasn’t given a response to Ravio’s request.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, completely and totally smooth. It isn’t as if this is his first kiss, and he’s not the type to get nervous over something as minor as kisses. But also the thought of Ravio finally trusting him enough to remove his hood—even with the condition of him not looking—has him feeling like a teenage boy sitting alone with their crush for the first time. It doesn’t help that he’s pretty sure what he feels for Ravio has long since exceeded the mere casual interest he had before.

He's hyperaware of Ravio’s every following action. Fingers lightly graze along his jaw until his cheek is being caressed again—yet this time, it’s impossibly more gentle. He’s not used to such careful treatment and it only causes his nerves to intensify. He finds himself gulping as Ravio’s fingers bury into his hair, lightly scratch his lower scalp, and ultimately give their all to build up the most nerve-wracking kiss Link has ever felt in his life.

Which is over before he can even fully process the fact that it's happening.

It's quick and light, nothing more than a chaste peck and completely unlike what he was expecting from someone like Ravio. It also leaves his face beet red.

“Oh, if I'd have known I could've made you blush from something like this, I would've done it ages ago!” Ravio's voice is embarrassingly giddy and clearly more than eager to tease him. Link instantly realizes that Ravio is not going to let this go for a very, very long time.

“Alright, alright, laugh it up.” He groans, pulling away from the cradle his face is being held in, “You've had your fun, can I open my eyes now?”

“Absolutely not, I'm not done kissing you yet.” Ravio grabs his face again and forces it back up, Link grunts but doesn't fight it despite his put-on frown.

“You asked for a kiss, singular.” Link points out with a quiet grumble. Lips peck his forehead briefly to silence him.

“And now I'm taking more.” Says his rabbit in a singsong. Link’s lips quirk up in a smile to match the one he cannot see but can hear.

“Scammer.”

Ravio tsks lightly at his fond insult.

“How many times must I tell you that my business is honest and true, hm?”

“Absolutely nothing about your business is honest or true.”

Ravio gasps in mock offense, “I cannot believe the so-called Hero would do such a cruel and vile thing as slandering a good-hearted and honest man! I demand retribution!”

“Oh? And how exactly are you going to obtain that?” Link cocks his head to the side, brow raised in question.

“Well,” Ravio's hands free his face, only to slide over his shoulders as the rabbit settles down on his lap, “You can't slander me if your lips are too busy being kissed.”

“Hm.” Link hums as if pondering the statement, “I suppose that's true.”

“It is. So you're going to sit right there while I get my rightful retribution.” Ravio rests his forehead against his own. Link has long since stopped trying to fake a frown, instead he smiles and gently nudges back in an affectionate headbutt of sorts.

“I could live with that.”

#raviolink #ravioli #link hyrule warriors #legend of zelda #albw ravio #my writing #hyrule warriors #ravio zelda #ravio x link #fated chain au #fcau #on that hw ravioli agenda again #decided to crosspost this cause it's so short

13 notes · View notes

mushroomwoods · 1 year ago

Text

deep woods… [m.list]

last update : oct. 31

the chain…

Fear(less)

after a few months of travelling together it was only to be expected that they would catch onto your little habits, especially if it was one that put you in harms way so many times.

or... you tend to get in trouble

time…

like fallen leaves

they fell and left him behind, for he knew that no amount of time would ever be enough for him or you to remain.

twilight…

the works ran away like midna, oops…

warriors…

Alive and Breathing

the warrior was used to this setting, something that usually seemed so harmless, dragging things he cherished out of his hands, this time though, he wouldn't just watch as death tried to take what's his, not matter the cost or the amount of blood he had to bathe in, it would never take you away from him.

wild…

my my, it's a wasteland just like his hyrule.

wind…

by the shore...

A calming vacation in Wind's timeline, seashell picking, storytelling, braiding and the navigation the sailor waited for so long. The only downside? A vacation never last forever.

never say goodbye

The sailor finally learned of a secret that roamed among the group and he wasn't happy about it, after all, who, if not him, would even dare to get so close to you? He would make sure it wasn't that wolf.

hyrule…

One Year, Eleven Months and Twenty Days...

Chapter 1 —

When Hyrule set off into yet another unfortunate journey, he didn't expect a sudden, skittish and nosy you to throw yourself into his life, much less for you to hang around him long enough for him to get attached. He believed he didn't need any company for as long as he lived as the hero, however as you proved him wrong, he started to fear for the possible time limit he could to have around you.

legend…

when the dawn comes

legend had always been overly suspicious, a little bit anxious and maybe a tad paranoid, but somehow, when you opened you finally opened your eyes at the break of dawn, he felt as if, for at least that moment, he could feel safe again.

alone

legend has always been keenly aware of what should happen, yet he still feared to be left alone most of the time.

four…

if you can't see, it must've turned into a minish.

sky…

Soft.

the inherently good guy, the one who'd sacrifice his whole life if it meant saving those he cared for, the one who'd turn into someone else entirely if that's what his love wished for. that's who sky was, and even when some said it was too overbearing, he'd rather say it was just the soft spot he had for you.

wounded bird

Sky is nothing short of loving, especially when his loved one comes down with a sickness.

Love me, Love me not

For the hero that you once thought that you knew, was never who he portrayed himself as, but really, did you expect that if the chains that bound him to good were to break, he would stay as the same old him?

fierce deity...

amidst the lonely nights

he would always remember your presence, and somehow it never got better like you said it would.

first…

devout

for all of those that you once loved and all of those that he would have to end with his own hands, he knew that a sinner like him would never be worth a chance of salvation.

silly offer

is that offer for a hug still up? because i think i need it right now...

calamity…

the calamity hasn't yet begun…

koridai…

the prettiest?

the hero of koridai, clingy, dramatic and very much comical. still, he was the prettiest in the world for you... not that you would ever tell him, but hey, it's not like your eyes didn't already say as much.

courage…

well, excuseee me, but there's nothing yet.

#fungi's masterpost

35 notes · View notes

dumpster-lizard · 6 months ago

Text

Everytime I see a bad take about Ganondorf because he (insert thing that Hyrule already did) i wanna start biting.

He is, by far, the most justified out of all the Villains in the series and im prepared to defend that.

Ghirahim: Gleefully served a demon king than nearly wiped out Hylians. Is cruel both toward his own servants and his enemies... and clearly the latter brings him immense joy

Vaati: Disatisfied with his place in the world, compensated with a god complex. Has no regard for others, and goes out of his way to be cruel to those he has a personal grudge against. (Rarely addresses Link directly in minish cap, except for the final fight)

Zant: Usurps the throne of his own people and turns the citizens into Twili beasts. Tries to leverage his position to make and advance on Midna, and attempts to kill her when rejected. Clearly had issues before Ganondorf even got involved.

Yuga: Similar to Vaati? Obsessed with perfection, sought to fuse with Ganon to acheive that. Cared little about Hilda's plan to restore Lorule. Not much else is said about his motives, but with how Hilda trusted him, he clearly played the long con.

Cia: Tore space, time, and herself apart cause she was a simp.

Astor: Death cult member who has no qualms killing his allies, sought to use the calamity for his own ends, even trying to command it til it got tired of him.

Chancellor Cole: Didnt play much spirit tracks, I get the sense hes similar to Ghirahim

Of all the baddies in TLOZ?? Ganondorf and the Yiga are by far the most justified (and, in many cases? In the right). Go for the others if you want more outwardly evil/more "black and white" bad guys

#tloz

6 notes · View notes

aurathian · 11 months ago

Text

Dawn to Dusk: 2. Dusk

AO3 | Written for @zelinktines24 #13: dusk. Reblogs appreciated if you enjoy :) Fandom: Twilight Princess

Ship: Link/Zelda

Rating: G

Summary: It is dawn when she leaves, but it is dusk when she brings them together.

Read below or on AO3.

Many dawns had passed since that day the princess of Hyrule spent in Arbiter’s Grounds where her family had so long ago banished its prisoners. Zelda had taken many baths since then in an attempt to clean herself of the dirt and dust and blood–and sin–from that dark place, but it would be something she’d carry with her forever. Sometime between now and then she had formally greeted Link as he arrived at the castle with all his belongings: a humble bag filled with his few clothes and sentimental knicknacks from Ordon. He promised to show her them later. Now, he lived in the castle and was preparing to serve on her counsel and advise her in national military matters. Link was not only a good fighter, but profoundly smart, and had good relations with many of Hyrule’s peoples. He would be a valuable asset to her court, her kingdom, and–though she would not admit–her sanity.

On most nights, when the sun had just set and the sky was that ominous shade of blue-purple, and dusk veiled the land, Zelda stayed inside by the fireplace in her room, knitting or reading or looking over papers or doing anything to distract herself. If she could survive the twilight, she would see tomorrow. She kept her curtains drawn and turned the clock on the mantle around so that there was not even an allusion to the time of day present.

Midna was nearest at this hour, the rims of their worlds barely grazing the other, but never did they overlap because only the mirror would allow such a feat. The mirror which shattered with a single teardrop. Princess Zelda figured that she shattered with it, too. What was the Twilight Princess doing right now? Such a thought plagued Zelda’s mind frequently. Did Midna ever wonder about her or Link? Perhaps she was too occupied with her own people to spare even a moment for them, but somewhere deep within her heart Zelda hoped.

That night, just before the sun dipped below the horizon and she was reminded of all things horrible and gone, the princess gripped the edge of her curtains and stared out at Hyrule Field, a sprawling landscape colored a deep blue from the coming night. There was life out there, even in the twilight. Birds and bugs and wild animals and even people, hurrying to find their way to shelter, things unaffected by the hour in which day and night blended together. Maybe Zelda could be one of them.

She left her curtains open and exited her quarters.

Clicking the door shut softly behind her, she didn’t care that she was in a nightgown. Many of the servants had gone down to their chambers for the night and the only remaining people in the halls were the guards, sworn to secrecy about any “funny business” (as Ashei would put it) they witnessed from the princess, their soon-to-be queen.

Something was tugging her along down those winding halls and spiral staircases. It took her hand, gentle and warm, and led her outside. Zelda paused at the door to the gardens, hand hovering over the knob. Part of her wanted to turn around and go back to her bed, but something–or someone–was out there, waiting. In her wildest dreams she hoped it was Midna.

She stepped outside with her eyes closed, and then opened them. The last bits of golden light were receding behind the garden wall. It was warm, a soft summer breeze ruffling the hedges and the leaves of the trees. There were no specks of twilight in the air, those dark bits that had lingered all around for so long that she had forgotten what the world looked like without them.

Something else plagued her mind as she walked. Did Link take to the twilight well? He never spoke of it around her even though they were more open than when they first met. One night, they ate dinner together in the great hall with all of the curtains shut and candles illuminating the room. He did not ask why. They spent that night talking about anything and everything that came to mind, from the stray cats of Castle Town to the strange chicken flying game at Lake Hylia (which Link suggested she should give a try, but she laughed it off and hid her quiet fear that he would one day bring her there). The Hero of Twilight recounted some of the grandest tales from his adventure to the most mundane, and it was in the mundane that his eyes lit up.

“Twilight is quiet,” he had said. “It was twilight when it was the most peaceful.”

Twilight is quiet. She focused on this, calming her mind and beginning to discover the same peace as she paced through the gardens. It was only her and the flowers and the wind and her breathing.

It had been a long while since Zelda walked these gardens. She could see them from her tower but they were covered in a thick fog and she’d imagined all the greenery had shriveled up and died anyway. Did Midna have gardens like these in her realm? Perhaps there were strange breeds of flora that bloomed only there, and the petals were fiery like her hair and stems pale blue like her skin.

The light had faded from the sky now, only the moon shining down on her path. It led her to one of her favorite spots since she was a child: a stone bench situated underneath a great weeping willow who swayed with the breeze. She froze at the sight of a silhouette sitting on her bench.

“I’m sorry,” it said, hurriedly standing. “I didn’t mean to…”

Her shoulders relaxed at the sight of her Hero, Link. He came into the pale moonlight dressed down in a white shirt and brown pants. When he arrived at the castle he had worn his green tunic, but now he preferred to leave it in his closet. Perhaps for similar reasons as to why she would shut her curtains all the time.

“No, stay,” she sighed, moving to the bench and sitting down amongst the hanging, swaying leaves.

“I’m intruding,” he argued. He was backing away from her now and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I insist. I would quite like your company.” The princess patted the spot next to her where he had been sitting only moments before, and he approached, though hesitantly. Slowly he lowered himself beside her. “Do you come out here often?”

He shook his head. He was quite handsome without that silly hat, Zelda thought. Not that he wasn’t handsome with it, but– well– she stopped thinking about it before she could fluster herself and inspire a blush on her cheeks.

“Not usually. But tonight I wanted to. Like something… never mind.”

Like something brought him here, she finished in her head. She smiled knowingly. Silence lingered between them then, as it usually had when they would rendezvous, but more and more Zelda didn’t find it awkward or uncomfortable. They could say everything they needed to in that silence, looking either at each other or something far off. That silence was always about the same thing, the same person. Zelda wondered if there would ever be a day where that silence could be about each other.

“I used to come here often,” she softly spoke. “Almost every night, starting since I was a little girl. I used to watch the stars until a guard on patrol caught me and made me go inside. Then I would just watch them out of my window.” Her gaze turned from him to the ground. “I don’t think I can look at the stars anymore.”

“We are very similar,” Link said. “I watched them on the ranch, you watched them here… do you think…” he trailed off and looked away before inhaling. “Do you think Midna watches them too?”

To hear her name was like being punched in the gut. Neither had spoken it since that morning in the Arbiter’s Grounds, even when they alluded to her in conversations or in meaningful eye contact. But, wiping away the tear that had slid down her cheek, it was wrong to leave her name there in that desert prison. To speak it here was to free it from that place of death. To speak it was to remember.

Zelda looked up at the sky through the branches of the weeping willow and the stars shone more brilliantly than she could ever remember. That warm, guiding hand that had brought her here–perhaps it was Midna from the other side of that starry sky.

“Yes,” Zelda breathed. “Yes, and I think she brought me here. To you.” Her eyes met his.

Softly, Link said, “I think she brought me here too.”

Gently, his hand found hers on the bench, more than the accidental grazing of fingertips they would have walking the halls, more than the shy eye contact they made, more than their shared silences. Turning her hand over, she gave his a squeeze.

It was dusk when Midna brought them together. To calm herself, Zelda focused only on this. It was dusk when she and her Hero first held hands. It was dusk when for the first time in ages, they knew everything would be alright.

#zelinktines #zelinktines24 #zelinktines 24 #zelink #zelda #link #midna #twilight princess #loz tp #legend of zelda #angst #angst with a happy ending #my writing

11 notes · View notes

getvalentined · 6 months ago

Note

A-Z ask game: O(tailored) bc I would like to slide you a song[String Theocracy, Library of Ruina], R, U please!

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

I looked up the song and I'm assuming it's this!

youtube

I was gonna say that I was getting huge A Turtle's Heart vibes off this, then I realized it was the same person so that explains it. I'm not a huge fan of the track itself* but those lyrics!

I'm going with Genesis, for sure, specifically Genesis to Zack.

Cut it off, cut down your loss All that stubborn loyalty is gonna get you killed In a world built on convenient theories For the puppets on TV There is comfort in the strings If you're gonna control me At least make it interesting theatrically [...] Cut it off, you've already lost All that precious bravery is gonna get you hurt In a world that feeds on the minority May that self-centered belief lead you to peace If you're gonna replace me At least have the audacity to kill me thoroughly

I'm not sure there's anything I could say to explain that interpretation that these lyrics don't already say loud and clear. Thank you for sharing it with me!

* I'm not generally a fan of jazz, and this song is really jazzy; also the way Mili mispronounces words to fit a rhythm that they could have fit anyway is pretty egregious in this track, and that's the thing that keeps me from listening to more of her music. The combination of the two makes me a bit "ehhhh," but that's just me! It's a really solid track, just not my vibe. THOSE LYRICS THOUGH, GODDAMN.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Answered here! A little convoluted because for me, all ships are friendships regardless of whether there's a romantic context.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Oh this is a fun one!

1. Vincent Valentine (FFVII) is my favorite character in all of fiction and I've explained the why of that a couple times over the years, but suffice to say there is just nothing like finding a character with whom you resonate so intensely that you can love them even more after over a quarter century than you did when you first discovered them as a child.

2. Harle (Chrono Cross) is way up there! I love her entire character arc, starting as an agent of human destruction who falls in love with the very person she was created to kill, and holding that love so tightly that the horrifying superweapon she was fused into uses magic to sing him the song he needs to save the entity responsible for the destruction of her own people. Harle is my favorite female character ever, even moreso than Miyazaki's Nausicaä, which is saying a lot coming from me.

3. Turo (Pokemon Violet) will be my third. Not Professor Turo, mind you, the other Turo, the one who actually gave a shit about the safety of others, who loved the son that wasn't actually his so much that he gave everything to make sure the world he lived in would be safe. I have a soft spot for characters willing to give themselves up for love, and familial figures determined to set things right even if it means they won't get to live with the family they're saving will make me sob every single time. I'm not normally into mainline Pokemon titles (I like Arceus, Gale of Darkness, Snap, etc.) but Turo is literally what sold me on this one and it turned out to be one of the best story experiences I'd had in years (even outside his part).

I wanted to include a Zelda character, but I realized that's basically impossible because I love too many of them to choose one as a favorite. I managed to narrow it down in my head to Midna, King Rauru, or Nabooru, and then I thought of Mipha for .027 seconds and literally burst into tears because I love her so much and I can't not talk about her if I'm talking about favorite Zelda characters—and I decided I couldn't do that so I set that franchise down for this one.

[ for the A to Z ask game ]

#ask game #a to z ask game

4 notes · View notes

occasionallyprosie · 11 months ago

Text

Devotion - Chapter 6: "In A Minute"

Dev reunites with one person from his past, and watches another from afar.

Meanwhile, instead of getting therapy himself, he gives it to his new kids AKA Captain Link, Mask, and Tune.

Read on AO3

First Chapter, Tumblr

"I know you," Ravio said near instantly.

Dev shakily inhaled—a useless habit—and nodded.

Ravio walked over, noticing Tune curled up and asleep with his head in Dev's lap, then his gaze raised back to Dev's face.

It visibly clicked. "Link," Ravio breathed. "Mr. Hero?"

"Ravio." Dev reached toward him and Ravio moved closer. Ravio took his hands but steered them, both Dev's and Ravio's both, to hold Dev's face.

"Look at you," Ravio whispered, studying his face. "You look like I did when we first met. Wrong eye color though, and not pale enough... Why so different?"

Dev blinked and his form quickly changed.

Lately, he had been using a form that better reflected his sword form, or rather a sort of mix between the Golden Sword and the Tempered Sword. He had violet hair that barely reached his shoulders but tied it up in a green ribbon, another green strand wrapping around a bit of hair by his face. He'd given himself a darker tan, one he had when he'd spent months at a time working in his orchard when he was still human, it turned out the sun couldn't tan sword spirits. Then he wore a pale, golden-yellow jerkin over a faded, burnt orange undertunic, the fabrics and style more reminiscent of a dream long ended than his once-favored red mail.

Suddenly, he was paler, still freckled but distinctly paler and those blemishes harder to notice as they nearly faded. Purple hair turned golden blond and a pink streak on the same side as the green ribbon, which remained. Gold and orange became dark green and red.

Ravio smiled almost blindingly. "There you are. How long, Mr. Hero?"

"Over three thousand," Dev managed. "Oh goddesses, Ravio."

Ravio squeezed his hands and pressed their foreheads together. "It's alright. You've done so well, Mr. Hero. You've gone so far. You're so incredibly strong."

Dev couldn't help but let out the small laugh that bubbled up. "Don't do that."

"But it's true. You've lived so long and I can't imagine you just hid from everything the whole time. You've must've saved the world so many times, met and lost so many people, and you're still making friends." Ravio nodded toward Tune's sleeping form. "You're so strong."

Dev closed his eyes and just relished in it. In Ravio's touch, his voice, he committed it all to memory.

"I remember this," Dev whispered. "It was while I was first—After we did the ritual, during that first year or so, right? You disappeared, stopped visiting for a while and I panicked so much. Then you came back and told me about this war and-and all these people you met and you had changed and I was so proud of you."

Ravio smiled at him. "Then I guess I don't have to worry too much about not going back home."

"You will," Dev swore. "I'll make sure of it."

"You haven't changed, Mr. Hero," Ravio laughed. "Not a bit."

Dev chuckled. "Maybe a bit. I don't fight with a sword anymore."

"Oh really? How do you fight?"

"If all goes well, I never will again. I... I've had to, but I don't want to fight anymore. Not myself."

Ravio smiled. "You know, that is different."

He did. He did have to fight.

A battle later that month went south. Mask got hit and downed, and Tune was with him, across the battlefield, desperately trying to protect him. Soldiers were spread thin across it, other displaced individuals fighting for their lives. Ravio would basically be playing wack-a-mole with the monsters, as more kept appearing no matter which he hammered into the ground. Midna was handling herself but that's as far as she could do.

Link got isolated and was getting overwhelmed.

"Dev, no," Fi intervened, her spirit wreathing around Dev's in a way to sort of stop him though they both knew it was ineffective. "We should not interfere."

"I'll interfere if I want to," he snapped at her. "They're going to die!"

She went silent at that.

Link brought tried to parry some attack and was disarmed, the Master Sword flying through the air as Link frantically brought his shield up as his only defense.

A huge, axe-wielding monster was about to break that shield in half, and Link as well. Fear shone clearly in his eyes.

A wall of flames suddenly exploded and Dev was standing between them. His hand held up, catching the giant axe, and looked like golden crystal and unbothered by the sharp blade. He held a fire rod in his other hand and a vicious grin was on his face.

"Don't touch my kit," he snarled and shattered the axe with a blast of magic.

He'd done some practicing since his sprite.

Flames roared around them as he turned to Link, pulling the Magical Sword from his pouch and offering it to him. "Get to the boys. I'll help clear the way."

Link just nodded, clearly a little bit awestruck and there was an odd warmth to his face that Dev couldn't quite place.

Dev burned his way through the battlefield, slashing and burning everything down around him. The bottoms of his fire rod had a sharp stiletto at the end and he used those to take down monsters and usurpers alike. He pulled out his tornado rod to help expand the reach the flames had.

Link made it to Tune and Mask's side, Dev trusted him to keep them safe as he began to thin the herd.

He couldn't let another hero die on his watch. Not another one, goddesses please.

His own magic helped the flames curve around soldiers and allies, shielding them even from the brunt of the heat no matter how close it came to them.

In minutes, the tide of the battle turned and Dev was standing back as the young ones finished the fight in favor of Hyrule. He let out a sigh and was about to return to sword form when he was assaulted.

"Mr. Hero! That was amazing!" Ravio gushed as he appeared beside him, robes torn and clearly exhausted yet alive with adrenaline. Dev offered him a red potion the moment he noticed the blood. "You know, I've said it a thousand times, but you do look like a dancer when you fight!"

Dev laughed lightly, attention flicking across the field to account for everyone as Ravio drank the potion.

"You have, and every time I've said that you should see Cadence," Dev reminded him and Ravio grinned.

"Dev! Ravio!" Link walked over to them, Mask unconscious on his back, arms loosely hung around his neck. "We're going back to camp. You... You know each other?"

"You called him, Mr. Hero," Tune said, half leaning on his sword. He was clearly exhausted, Dev guessed the kid, even for his alleged two adventures, was not used to fighting for hours on end, days at a time.

Dev chuckled. He went over and picked the pirate hero up. "Did he, bunso? I dunno..."

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Ravio declared.

It took no time after he picked the not-quite-a-teenager up, that Tune slumped into his chest. "Y'er warm," he muttered, clearly about to fall asleep.

"That's what happens when you burn things, you tend to be a bit warmer. Proximity to fire and all that."

Ravio snorted beside Dev as Link gave a long, suffering groan. Midna yelled for Ravio to join her and Linkle, and Ravio soon ran off to join the other dark-worlder.

Link smiled at Dev, offering his sword back.

Dev shifted Tune to his back and took the Magical Sword, letting it disappear into his pouch.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine," Link assured, his voice a bit softer than usual as they fell into step. "You know, you're scary when you're protective."

"Hmm?"

"When you appeared. You looked ready to burn the world to the ground... just to protect me," Link explained, looking down. "I don't get it. You also called me your kit."

Dev blinked, then he chuckled softly. "You are mine, you know that? The moment you pulled me from the pedestal, I adopted you. That's just how it works. And... And well, I would."

"You would what?"

"I would burn down the whole world just to keep my kids safe. You, these two..." his Sprite, "I'd do anything for you."

Link looked surprised, but he didn't continue the subject any longer. Instead just falling silent as they headed back to the camp.

"Come on! There's another new person, she's so cool! She knows the same language we speak on Outset!"

Tune dragged Dev through the field of tents, Mask perched on Dev's shoulders.

"We're coming! You don't have to run," Dev teased, one hand on Mask's leg as the kid rested his chin on top of his head.

"Hurry up then!"

"He's always in a rush to meet people," Mask grumbled. "It's weird."

"Maybe, but you're weird for hating them," Tune responded cheerily.

Dev chuckled amusedly. He tagged along and as they finally came up to the mess area where a bright voice was singing some jittery tune alongside the slamming of mugs and stomping of boots.

He knew that voice.

Standing atop a table, shaking and hitting a tambourine, was the girl from his dreams.

Marin.

Dev didn't breathe, he didn't have breath, but even so it felt like his was stolen. Tune laughed and went up to join the singing and dancing, Mask even lightened up a bit in the cheery atmosphere. Dev watched Marin dance on the tabletop, he saw her pull Tune up to join her. He hadn't noticed it before, but the two had similar energy, similar warmth and enthusiasm, they had the same bright smile too. Dev found himself smiling.

She looked happy... He'd let her live this. If she recognized him, then he'd talk, but if not... He wouldn't bring up old wounds, because she was older. She looked to be at least in her twenties and they'd been sixteen when Link--when Dev had washed up on her island.

If it was a dream for her too, then... Then best she live on and forget about some boy she knew in a world they'd never get back.

He was far too old and much too immortal to let her dwell on that.

"Kit," Dev sat down on the castle wall beside the Captain, who glanced up at him, "what's wrong?"

"You know, why do you call me kit?" Link asked, the nickname apparently distracting him from whatever turmoil was in his mind.

"You remind me of a lion, a prideful, protective, ferocious, fierce lion. So kit," Dev gave him a soft look, one that generally got his kids to talk in the past, "what's got your mane in a mess?"

Link rolled his eyes with a soft laugh. "I... I'm tired, Dev. I know you probably wouldn't get it, being an immortal spirit and all, but..." he looked up at the moonless night sky. "How... How am I supposed to keep fighting when I'm leaving them all behind? There's... It's my fault. If I just gave myself over to Cia, this wouldn't be happening. They wouldn't be dead. Everyone around me is dying, Dev," he choked a bit, "how am I... Why can't I save them?"

Dev sighed softly. "I do get that, actually." Link looked at him. "I'm immortal, kit. I'm young in comparison to Fi, she's had many other wielders than you, like Mask and Tune, but I only had one and I existed for centuries before he was even born. I... I helped the royal family for a while, helped raise the princesses, hide the princes, saved the country a couple times by telling the ruling body to use some common sense. I raised those kids into great kings and queens, Link. They all died. My wielder, he died too, bled out in my arms, I half raised him too."

Link was silent.

"Then there was a mage, a long time ago, multiple but that's not the point. This one mage wanted this specific child, two of them actually but more specifically he wanted the Princess. If, theoretically, we had given him that girl, it wouldn't have mattered. He still would have destroyed all of Hyrule and killed its people."

Dev looked over at Link. The teenaged war captain was still watching the stars, but clearly listening.

"If you gave yourself to Cia, it wouldn't end this war, kit. All it would do is make our side lose you, our captain and leader, our friend and ally, our brother." Link looked at him at that last one. "She isn't alone, those monsters wouldn't stop attacking. She has ancient evils on her side, evils that the heroes of the past had to fight off. All that would happen if you gave yourself to Cia, is exactly that. You'd be with Cia. The war would not end, peace would not be won or bought, everything else would continue, they would keep attacking, and you'd be trapped in the heart of it at the whims of a madwoman."

Link flinched a bit, tugging his sleeve slightly. Impulsively, Dev set what was now his signature purple cloak around his hero's shoulders.

"I know it's hard, people are dying around you and you believe you're responsible for saving them." Link nodded slightly to Dev's words. "But this is war, Link. This is bigger than just you, even if Cia is obsessed with you, that's not how this works. Something else would have been corrupted, someone else, Lana maybe, maybe some random mage who decides to raise an ancient evil, something would have happened. Maybe you would've had to travel across all of Hyrule to gather some magical items from dungeons deep in the ground to come back and fight them alone. But I speak from experience when I say the death toll would not have been better. Without the armies to protect them, monsters would've flooded villages, flooded the castle even, or maybe the armies themselves would've been mind controlled and men you know and trust would be turning against you."

Link grimaced. Dev knew he already hated having to kill the men who had willingly betrayed the crown, to kill men who had done it unwillingly was...

"Frankly, there are dozens of other ways this could have played out," Dev continued. "But it played out this way, and when I look at our status, the statistics from battles, how you're managing your men when you're barely an adult yourself," Link flinched at that, "you are doing incredibly, Kit. Better than I would have ever done, even if I were my age and not your age."

Link tugged the cloak more around his shoulders. He let out a long, shaky sigh and silence lingered for a good few minutes. Dev just stayed at his side.

"Thanks," Link whispered into the air. "Thanks Dev."

He hummed softly. "Of course."

Dev crossed his arms as he stood in the entryway of a certain tent, Link was leaning over at table, scarfless. Dev knew that both Mask and Tune were curled up on their bed in another tent with the scarf wound around and over them both.

"You faked them out," Dev said and Link startled, reaching for a weapon only to raise Dev's own sword form against his intangible spirit form.

Link sighed, sheathing the Master Sword. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The boys are out cold with your scarf around them. You got them to sleep and then left. You know they hate it when you don't sleep too," Dev chided. He moved over to look at the map on the table.

"I have to finish this, and finish that report," Link said as he gestured to a stack of papers on the nearby desk. Dev moved over to it and flicked through them. "I don't have time to rest."

Dev sighed. "Goddesses... you have no idea how often I told myself that."

Link made a confused noise, looking at him.

"Just—When I was younger, I had a lot to do and little time to do it. I was right of course, I didn't have time to rest, but the difference was," Dev placed a hand on Link's shoulder, "I didn't have people who could take my burdens from me."

Link looked confused and Dev chuckled softly.

"Let's finish those reports together and then you need to get some rest. What helps you relax?"

"I... doing things with my hands. Knitting, training, braiding my sister's hair, stuff like that," Link said quietly. He unsheathed the Master Sword and set it out. It disappeared in a slight flash and Dev let himself become tangible and he picked up the reports.

"Well we're currently out of yarn," Dev noted, "and training is absolutely out of the question..." he hesitated and sighed. "Fine. Sit."

Link looked a bit confused but he sat on the edge of the bed and Dev sat down on the ground in front of him. A bit of magic had the papers floating in front of and around him, and he changed his form a bit.

The green ribbon fell into his hand while his violet purple hair grew out to his mid-back. Link startled and Dev combed one hand through it.

"If it helps you relax," he said softly.

Link made a small noise, something a bit strangled but deeply touched. Fingers slid through his hair and Dev worked on the reports, murmuring what he was reading and doing to Link while the young captain braided his hair.

"When'd you have long hair?" Tune asked after a battle.

"Because Link needed to calm down and he said braiding hair helped," Dev answered, cleaning the blood off Tune's face with a rag. "Goddesses, bunso, you either gotta clean up your act or you're joining me for training after this."

Tune grinned. "Can I braid your hair?"

Dev shrugged. "If you want, sure. Not now though. Later."

Tune lit up.

After that, Dev just kept his hair long, usually braided by either Tune or Link, and then he became Mask's practice as the fairy boy wanted to learn how to as well.

It was the nature of all things to end, and war was counted among them.

Dev pulled Ravio into a tight hug, as the merchant was one of the first to go back home.

"I'll see you in a minute," Ravio joked weakly.

Dev wanted to cry. "Bye, Ravi."

"Bye, Link," Ravio whispered, his words unheard by everyone else. "Be happy."

Dev tightened his hug before finally letting go. Ravio squeezed his hands before he gave another boisterous goodbye to everyone. Declaring they'd get discounts if they ever visited his shop.

Then he was gone.

Dev stepped back beside Link.

"You knew each other," Link said.

Dev gave a strained laugh. "You could say that."

Midna had insulted them all on her way out. Marin left with a promise to never forget them.

One by one, everyone returned home, then it was just four three heroes remaining.

Mask did the best at staying strong. Link pulled them both into tight hugs, Tune clung to him but declared that Link would be alright and now Tune had plenty of stories to tell Aryll when he got home.

Mask had quietly told Link that he better take care of himself from now on.

"You hear me?" The little fairy boy glared weakly at Link. "You take care of yourself! You eat every day and sleep properly! We-We—We won't be here to make you do it anymore, so you—You gotta do it."

Link was in tears. "I will, Dev's still here to be annoying. I'll be alright, Sapling. Just—Go home and be happy, okay? Promise me that you'll find something to be happy about."

Mask's facade broke and he was in tears, crying against Link's chest.

Tune stepped away from them and he turned to Dev. He approached and hugged the spirit, and Dev wrapped the young pirate in a tight hug.

"How... How do you and Ravio know each other?" Tune asked, his face against Dev's shoulder.

Dev smiled into the boy's hair as he tilted his head. "I was just like you once," he admitted in a quiet whisper, so quiet that neither Mask nor Link could hear him. "A hero. I was younger than you, maybe even younger than Mask, when I first started."

Tune's eyes widened and he stared at him as he pulled away. Dev gently brushed his hair from his face, keeping eye contact.

"I saved Hyrule so many times, bunso. One of those times, I met this merchant... You may never visit this place or hear of it again, but there's a land called Lorule, and it's the opposite of Hyrule."

"Ravio said he's from Lorule," Tune recalled.

Dev nodded. "He is. But just as Lorule and Hyrule are mirrors, so are its people. Ravio is my mirror, he is my Lorulean counterpart. If you ever saw him without his hood, you would've seen the resemblance."

"But if he's from your past then... He's died," Tune realized. "That's why you were crying."

Dev chuckled softly. He kissed the top of Tune's head before mussing blond hair and dislodging the green cap.

"I've seen a lot of loved ones die, bunso," Dev admitted. "Ravio was one of the first, but he didn't die during my adventures, nor while I was Hylian. He died of old age. That's better than some fates I think we've both seen."

Tune nodded. "You're... you're a hero?"

"Not anymore. Now I guide the hero so they can succeed. If I have my way, I'll never have to raise a sword again... Magic rods are okay though."

Tune laughed wetly and he hugged Dev. "Love you, Dev," he muttered. "Thanks for being my big brother."

Dev hugged the kid as tight as he could. "No, thank you."

They pulled apart and Dev squeezed his shoulder.

"Now go conquer that ocean of yours, little pirate. And tell Aryll and Tetra hi from me and Fi."

Tune nodded rapidly. He hugged Link and Mask one more time, telling Mask he better take care of himself or he'd time travel just to make him do it. Mask had laughed wetly and teased Tune that he better tell Tetra he had a crush on her. Despite the prompt argument, they went through the portal holding hands, only letting go at the very last moment.

Dev spent that night talking with Link and hugging the young hero until he passed out from crying and losing the two kids he adore.

Next>>

#linked universe #lu legend #linkeduniverse #legend lu #fanfic #lu warriors #lu wind #lu mask #sword spirit legend #prosie writes #devotion au

16 notes · View notes

delphiniumarchangelmoon · 11 months ago

Text

More Hyrule Warriors thoughts because I’m still in the hole

I’m now at the point in the first two adventure maps where the only things left to do are insane boss rushes and I’ve realized now that I only beat the legend mode end bosses out of luck. I have no idea how either Ganon fight actually works. I’ll look up a tutorial sometime but not right now.

In the meantime I started the first normal rank map. It’s annoying. Fuck off with your “no heal” challenges I SPENT SO MUCH TIME GETTING ALL THOSE ILLUSTRATIONS TO GET BETTER POTIONS AND YOU TAKE THEM AWAY??? I’m gonna eat you.

Also in those maps LEVELING IP FIESNT EVEN HEAL YOU I’m going to make someone TASTE THEIR OWN LUNGS

I have like 5 fairies but I only use the first one I got cause she has an ability that instantly revives you if you die and none of the others have anything even close to that good so far. Plus she’s the one wearing the Ghirahim cosplay.

I haven’t changed any of the default names of the fairies cause it feels Weird. Like “hi I just saved your life now serve me eternally also your name is now Lorraine”

One of my fairies is named Chomp :) I love her. Shes useless, but I love her

I haven’t gotten many hats. It bugs me cause none look good with the Ghirahim cosplay. Why can’t I just get like, a red headband or something???? Why did I have to get a random skull???

I’ve finally gotten a huge string of weapon upgrades so a lot of characters are useful for the first time in the entire game and I’m having SO MUCH FUN WITH IT

Specifically I’m really liking Twili Midna! I didn’t get her moves at first but I’ve started to really vibe with it now that she has some decent damage output (also that X special is OBSCENE just annihilate an entire room no biggie)

I have Toon Link in his blue lobster shirt, all is right with the world :)

I found out you can go over level 100. I thought I was doing okay with keeping the gang leveled up (I go in 5 level jumps where I’ll sell a shit ton of weapons to get rich then level the entire roster up at once) having everyone at a minimum of 40, but it turns out I was wrong and now Link is level 102 and I don’t know how to plan for this future the disparity is so much larger than I anticipated (I stopped playing as him much but I keep finding maps that require him)

So right now I’m maining Sheik at like 65 or something, then once they hit like 90 I’ll probably go to Ganondorf or Impa (I finally figured out how to play her giant blade god bless)

Primarily right now I’m jumping between going back to maps I didn’t get a-rank on and replaying them and going through free mode getting every stage done on hard + getting skulltulas I abandoned during legend mode, it has actually gotten me pretty good levels

I cannot however finish the level to upgrade Volga’s weapon, I need to A-rank a goddamn full level with a close-quarters imprisoned fight at the end like BLOCKING DIESNT DO SHIT WHEN ITS ACTUALLY EATING ME! IM IN ITS MOUTH THERES NOWHERE TO RUN IM IN A CAVE

#hyrule warriors #Mr toes is causing pain and anguish #he is not enriched in his enclosure and it making it Volga’s problem specifically

7 notes · View notes

yiga-hellhole · 2 years ago

Text

Twilight Forest, Twilight King Chapter 2

I wrote a sequel chapter to my fanfiction! This one is uh... Beefy... but i found i just had a lot to talk about with these weirdos. this one is about 10k words, under the cut, but i’ve split it in two separate chapters on ao3 over here!

this chapter explores the battle for eldin province, and zant’s relationship to midna. mostly, i just wanted to write midna, because she’s one of the best zelda characters, hands-down. hope you enjoy!!

The initial peace of their arrival had long last run out. None were content with simply conquering the Gerudo Desert and claiming it as their territory. No, The Demon King’s plans were far more grand than this. Their forces were ever-increasing, supplied by new recruits that had wretched themselves free from Cia’s control. More and more were pouring out the Gates of Time by the hour, and they were happy to take in any that she didn’t manage to indoctrinate. As Ganondorf’s highest commanders, it was up to Ghirahim and Zant to manage these recruits while they made their way to the Valley of Seers.

Today was one such moment of actively managing troops. To Ghirahim’s surprise, he was finding that the Darknuts and Bulblins were far more talkative than the Moblins he was used to. Their highest generals - recognizable through their large sizes and increasingly more decorative helmets - joined them at the plotting table of their current camp. Maps, pawns, and stocks were laid on the surface of the table and were being thoroughly discussed by a pair of ruffians slightly diagonally across the table from Ghirahim. Frankly, the upfront planning of strategically planned conquests wasn’t his strongest suit. He was far more suited to the actual battlefield, where rallying (or rather, bossing around) troops was one of his greatest strengths. The logistics of ‘strategic outposts’ and ‘soldiers that need to eat and sleep’ simply did not suit his area of expertise. Still, he had to keep up images, as became clear from the two generals currently facing him and Zant, waiting for input on their current plans. Ghirahim frowned at the two documents he had been given and was about to turn to his co-lieutenant to listen to his input, but he came to an absolutely baffling discovery.

Was he… Sleeping?

Standing up? Like a horse?

This was unprecedented. He stiffened his expression as much as possible to prevent his jaw from falling wide open at the absolute audacity Zant was performing right in the middle of an active warzone. Moreso, he had to exercise every bit of restraint he could to stop himself from punching him in the shoulder and yelling at him for his transgressions, right in front of the very people that held them in the highest of regards. Well, he had been silent for longer than five seconds now, and he had to figure out a way to save face, and fast. He squinted down at the scroll of paper that described their current livestock preservations, but before he could give any insightful comment on it, Zant, without having moved a muscle, interjected.

“My apologies, I was thinking through our options. You have been investing far too much attention into warding off archers. I must remind you that soon we are heading into Eldin territory, wherewith their height advantages, we need to prepare far more for their catapults and highland ambushes. We are skirting Goron territory, after all.”

Ghirahim frowned again as his gaze flitted between Zant and the generals beside them, who, now looking pensive, returned to the table for further discussion. Had he been wrong? Was Zant just uncharacteristically quiet, listening on?

Still holding onto the scroll, he stepped back to stand closer to Zant. He figured it would give him a good cover to pretend to be discussing its contents when, in truth, he was about to berate him.

“Zant, I almost daren’t ask, but… Were you seriously sleeping? In the middle of the briefing?” he hissed, eyes on the scroll but face slightly tilted to face Zant.

Where he had hoped to hear an insulted gasp and a denial, he instead heard a muffled laugh. “Ah, good. You only just caught on.”

WHAT?

“What!?”

Zant looked over his shoulder to join his ‘reading’ of the scroll and continued to speak. “I must admit to a bit of mischief. I cannot lie to you, I have been sneaking in a nap here and there, the past few days.”

It took every ounce of his being not to grimace and shout at him. Instead, he whispered increasingly frantically. “You can’t be serious! That’s — Hideous! Wildly irresponsible! In what realm is this acceptable behavior!?”

Zant simply hummed in reply. “I suppose, in the exact same realm you lot continue to insist on attacking in broad daylight, despite most of our forces, myself included, functioning at our best in the dark.”

This was unbelievable. “Napping. During a meeting!”

“Without anyone noticing, indeed,” Zant nodded, stating his response with baffling solemnity.

He was ten seconds from walloping him with the scroll. “Regardless! How can you-“

Zant interrupted him before he could blow his gourd, nudging him in the shoulder with his elbow before leaning down with a whisper. “Let me be clear, Ghirahim. These meetings, especially our presence at them, are mostly for show. The past few battles we plotted have been child’s play. All I need is a quick look over the table, my wit, and the rest is basic improvisation.”

Ghirahim’s kayfabe shattered, and he was fully gawking at Zant, at a loss for words.

“And despite all that, every single one of our battles thus far has been a grand success, no? Not to worry. Once we enter more threatening territory, these briefings will have my undivided attention. But until then, I’ll be preserving any energy I would otherwise spend simply standing around being bored.” He hummed thoughtfully, taking the scroll out of Ghirahim’s nearly paralyzed hands. Zant spoke louder this time, catching the attention of the other commanders in the room. “We need to prioritize fowl in our meat stocks for the time being. Kakariko has an abundant supply, and we can expect the Hylian forces stationed nearby to be making ample use of them. We should be setting forces aside for raiding their convoy from where they least expect it.”

Ghirahim stood in awe as Zant with a wave of his sleeved hand motioned the generals into action, who nodded away and sent the first of their messengers out of the tent and into their camp. The man was a prodigy. An absolute wild genius of warfare. And there was absolutely no way Zant could find out that he had come to this conclusion.

The two had retreated to their usual, casual bickering. After their meeting concluded, they stayed behind in the tent, sat atop stools, and nursed sips from their waterskins. Though the initial shock and dismay had now faded, Ghirahim found himself still irritable after their briefing.

Ghirahim crossed his arms, whipping his hair out his face with a flick of his neck. "I still cannot believe you've gotten away with sleeping during tactic meetings so many times!"

Zant chortled again, needle-like teeth visible past his broadly grinning lips. "You speak as though I've done nothing but slumber for the past few days! All I say is, I can easily doze off a bit when I am not needed, so long as I stand still and keep this helmet firmly closed," he stated, gesturing to his head. It was that damned helmet, for sure. It was growing to be an increasing annoyance to him.

"So long as it doesn't end up in careless mistakes around our Master…" Ghirahim sighed with a noncommittal gesture, to which Zant quickly squawked in reply.

"I would never!"

His irritability was slowly making room for amusement. Getting to know the Twili outside the battlefield was teaching him just how his chaotic behavior intertwined with his personal life. It was equal parts fascinating and completely vexing him. Before their conversation could turn to pointless babbling about semantics, Zant returned to the topic of his helmet. "There really is an art to it. You could consider getting one of your own. It’s so perfectly pitch-dark inside this helmet, it's difficult not to sneak in some shut-eye."

Ghirahim scoffed, dismissively waving his hand at him. "Oh, please. Cut it with your excuses!"

"I am serious! I could very well let you put it on, you can see for yourself."

Ghirahim felt apprehensive about the suggestion. Put on Zant's helmet? It seemed like an awfully intimate gesture, one he certainly wasn't comfortable with. Moreover, it probably didn't smell the best inside that thing. But… Somewhere, his curiosity was winning, and Zant was already undoing buckles by his shoulders.

"I advise caution, it is quite heavy,” Zant warned him, hooking his fingers around the edges of his shoulder guards to lift the massive piece of armor off his head.

He grimaced in return, feeling his pride itch. "Heavy? Realize who you’re talking to, for once, you oaf. I’m made of solid metal, nothing could possibly be too heavy!"

And yet, when the oversized chunk of steel was placed on his shoulders and caged his head in that hollow dome, he had to admit, it was throwing off his balance. How strong was Zant exactly, to be lugging this around all day?

He chuckled, a little caught off guard by the echo. As Zant said, it was completely dark, the only bits of light peeking through the minuscule eye holes above him. It seemed this thing needed an obscenely long neck to properly wear. "Well, how do I look?" he asked, posing idly.

A muffled giggle rang from outside the helmet. "In your own words, unsightly!"

——

Their forces advanced. Today had been a complete and total wildcard, yet somehow, it was working out for them. The outskirts of Eldin Province were but mere hours from being locked in their control, and it seemed they had Zant to thank for it. He had purposely ordered a ceasefire until their wizzrobes could accurately predict the next rainfall and immediately ordered an attack when the heaviest of it would come pouring down. It was almost too ideal; the rain itself vastly hampered visibility, rendering any projectiles, whether arrows or heavy boulders, nearly useless. Wet soil and heavy winds prevented any attempt at cavalry assault from breaking through their forces. As such, the only true way for the Hylians to fight back against their advance was through hand-to-hand combat, and none of these pushovers could ever hope to overpower the beasts they sent their way. More importantly, the thick, rolling clouds above blocked out the sun. If Zant had been a sight to behold before, he was an absolute spectacle this time around. Uninhibited by what could only be called his greatest weakness, he was proving himself to be an absolute beast. His magic was a horrifying flurry of chaos, ripping nonsensical objects from the void and sending them flying through entire platoons of defenseless men. Though battling in the middle of a storm was always a perilous decision, all appeared to be going in their favor.

But not for Ghirahim. Ghirahim was wet, dirty, and miserable. The battlefield encroached the foothills of Goron territory, and the stone-hide busybodies decided to lend their aid to the Hyrulean forces. Normally, this would not be a problem, but at some point, he had been surrounded. During his struggle to break out of the formation, the rock-covered backs of one of those brutes managed to chip one of his blades.

Now, this was one of his many blades. Out of roughly a dozen, it really shouldn’t have been much of an issue. But summoning, much less repairing entire parts of his essence in their physical form, was decidedly a downtime activity. Not one to be spent crouched behind a rock ledge, hoping that the boulders aimlessly sailing through the air wouldn’t collapse his hideout. Now that he was sat, he could assess the damage. No, not that of the mud on his beautiful boots, cape, and bodysuit. Rather, the horrid crack that ran down the razor edge of one of his finest rapiers. He slid his thumb across the thunderbolt-shaped fracture, wincing, not only at the strange ache it caused in his chest but also in rage. Of course, those responsible for this massive blow to his ego had already been reduced to trampled carcasses in the muck, but the insult still stood. He would have to spend the rest of this fight with only one blade.

Suddenly, he was ripped out of his train of thought. The rain was still pounding into the ground around him, but hardly any of it was hitting him. He looked up, only to be met with a large, gaudy sleeve, shielding him from the downpour.

“Ghirahim. It is unlike you to be caught off guard like this. Are you injured?”

It was Zant, standing bent over him. What was this madman doing? This wasn’t the time for smalltalk. Whatever he wanted to achieve, he had to get to the point, and quick. “Not quite,” he grimaced. “Those worms somehow managed to crack my sword,” he stated, showing him the damaged blade. “I will be fine. You ought to put my magnetic personality to the side for a moment and head back out there.”

Zant did not respond to his quipping but did seem to eye the broken sword. “I see.” He quickly turned to look over his shoulder, before staring back down at him. “The Hyruleans have stationed one of their higher commanders here today. Midna. Just as I, she is stronger than she usually would be during clear day, and, well —To put it bluntly, she is not quite keen to find me alive,” he stated with a stiff chuckle.

Ghirahim frowned. That imp? Certainly, she should have been no match for Zant. “Why are you here? You can take care of her, no?”

Zant shrugged in return. “I am not the one who cursed her this time around, and I can’t know the extent of her powers. I’ve pulled back for the moment, to let our commanders exhaust her a bit. She should have blazed through her worst within mere minutes, I reckon.” Though he was concealed behind his helmet, the tone of his voice gave him an inkling of a self-satisfied smile.

Playing cat and mouse with the enemy. Ghirahim shook his head at the concept, but couldn’t exactly berate him for it. It was, by all means, a smart move. In the meantime, he didn’t see any point in keeping the cracked sword laying in his lap, so he dismissed it with a wave of his hand, wincing at the sensation. His soul was like its own scabbard, built to perfectly sleeve every blade that he hid within himself. When one of those blades suddenly bore jagged edges, it stung through his entire body.

This did not go unnoticed. “… Ghirahim. You must rest. Our forces need you in peak condition on the battlefield.”

Ghirahim shook his head. “No! Don’t be ridiculous. I am no child, you needn’t coddle me.”

“Then I speak as your co-lieutenant, and as your friend. I insist you retreat.”

“You ask the impossible of me. I can, and I will fight,” he bit back but was met with the insistent looming of the Usurper. “… Fine. Have it your way! I’ll take five. But the second I’ve recovered from this ache, I’m heading back out there.”

Zant seemed to find his compromise reasonable. “Then I have an attractive offer for you. I will continue to drive Midna back out of the field, and when I give the signal, you can join me in delivering the final blow. You will know when I call for you. Until then, take your rest.”

It was… Uncharacteristically kind. It almost seemed like there was a catch. Ghirahim paused, a little taken aback. "You're saying, you'll share your prized kill with me?"

"If it means you will stop acting recklessly, yes."

Ghirahim blinked up at him, before his expression softened into a smile. How very twistedly sweet of him. For a moment, he didn't quite know what came over him. The one moment he was just crouched over on the floor, and the very next, he craned his head up and reached for him with his free hand. Satin-clad, deft fingers found their way to the back of Zant's neck and pulled him downwards. Before he knew it, he had planted a kiss on the "cheek" of his helmet. "Thank you, Twilight King."

Pristine white lips stained now by rain-diluted blood, he did not break his gaze at the daunting helmet. Zant's expression, unreadable. He had half expected him to screech and run off, but he simply lingered silently until the hand on the back of his neck slipped back down. After a moment of silence, Zant whipped back around again to gauge their position, before stepping back.

An unsubtle clear of the throat rang behind his helmet. "I will call for you when I need you. Be on your guard until then," he demanded, before nodding firmly and sprinting off with a wigglier gait than he'd had when he arrived.

Ghirahim couldn't think of anything than to smile and wave him off.

He sat panting in his hideout a little longer. The pain of his broken blade did not quite fade, but his body slowly learned to adjust to its new shape. He would have found greater success in his recovery, had not every other troop that marched on by paused to fuss over him, nearly the same as Zant had. His co-lieutenant had been right. Witnessing one of their high commanders, beaten and drenched by the deluge, did a big number on the overall morale of their army. It broke his concentration, but not quite yet his will. A small group of lizalfos took to shielding him, hissing and squawking in idle conversation with one another. The curious creatures stood their guard, tongues flitting from their maws as their eyes carefully scanned the battlefield around them.

Ghirahim found it nothing but wasteful. Those beasts should be out there fighting, not guarding someone who could pulverize any approaching threat with a flick of his wrist.

As fate would have it, the two lieutenants found each other in their respective eleventh hour. From the other side of the battlefield, just past his hideout, a series of great purple bolts shot into the heavens. Zant, though a reckless maniac, was not so tactless as to abandon his aim without good reason. He was calling for him, no doubt about it. He dismissed his lizalfos guardians with a booming shout, took his remaining blade in both hands, and sprinted off to the source of his calling flare.

It was quite a distance, taking him to the edge of the field. He could only guess the two Twili had chased each other all the way to the Bridge Keep. Getting there was not much of a problem, not for a demon made of pure metal. The Hyrulean forces were holding out stunningly well, but even their fighting spirit was no match for the being of sheer rage barreling toward them. All decorum had gone out the window as he ran his way through masses of soldiers in his mud-stained suit. He elbowed, kicked, and walloped men with the flat of his blade as he forced his way to his goal. Steel helmets dented and shields shattered under the force of the pommel striking them with reckless abandon. A cacophony of sickening crunches and screeching metal sounded wherever he set foot, as if announcing his arrival with a violent fanfare. He was in too much of a hurry to pay it any mind. Blood. Rain. Whichever, ceaselessly drenched him as he pressed on. The poor sods were too trapped in the crowd of battle to even attempt to get away from him. With the obsidian metal shining under his skin, the Hylians were powerless to retaliate. Such pathetic sticks couldn’t even get a dent in him. Their sheer attempts were disgraceful. It wasn’t his most elegant fight, but he had to save time and energy for what actually mattered.

One last push and he was finally out of the crowd, standing at the edge of the Eldin Bridge. By some miracle, it had escaped the battle unscathed (so far), and he stood face to face with a grand gate. It was wide open, but he was more concerned by what lay beyond. Great orange barriers stood behind the fence, reaching skyward. He could pass through, he knew, but it posed one major problem. One of the two Twili had played their trump card and led the both of them to a Twilight Realm. They were at full power.

He ran up to the gate but ducked behind one of its pillars first. He was not so foolish as to rush headfirst into a keep with two arcanely charged beings, who were undoubtedly, neither in the best of moods. He peeked around the corner to gauge his surroundings. It was almost like a temple, with crumbled walls and pillars lining the mountain corridor. They hadn’t even been here yet, and it was already on the verge of collapse. The two Twili stood in the center, with Zant, shockingly, subdued. Two golden wolves were on each of his sides, biting down harshly on his sleeves. Dark red puddles were already gathering on the floor below him as he tried to wrestle out of their grip. When he looked at the imp who had to be Midna, Ghirahim found himself a little perturbed. For a friend of the Hyruleans, she was awfully menacing. A dark teal aura gathered around her, wafting off of her like smoke from a wildfire. She grinned triumphantly, but her heaving stance betrayed exhaustion. They began to speak, and Ghirahim warped himself closer to eavesdrop.

“I’ve got you now, you wretch! Try casting those wicked spells of yours without waving those gangly arms around!”

Zant laughed at first, but whined terribly as the wolves sunk their teeth into his arms. The thick fabric of his sleeves was failing him. “You must think you’ve gotten a great advantage,” he wheezed, giggling through his pain. “Dear Midna. To think I would find a Twilight Realm in these lands, and it wasn’t even my own doing! Are you finally seeing the advantages-“ he spoke, but was interrupted by a sudden rip at his arm. He screeched in agony as he was yanked to the side, as if the beasts were trying to split him in twain.

She curled her lip in disdain as she spoke. “I don’t even know why I’m continuing to let you yap. Really, I should kill you right now.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Zant asked, panting in his exertion, but with a smugness in his voice as he tried to save face.

“And risk you coming back from the dead? No thanks. I’ll be taking you in as a prisoner, what, with all that bragging you’ve done about your God resurrecting you?” She prattled on, idly examining her nails. Zant, at this point, was starting to shiver, desperation creeping up even behind the concealment of his armor. Midna then turned to him again, a wide, teeth-baring grin on her face. “Though, he didn’t exactly do that last time, did he?”

She threw her head back in laughter as Zant’s composure snapped, and he struggled as high-pitched grunts of rage echoed out from his helmet. She simply yawned and reclined in mid-air while he panicked in her grasp. “Oh, spare me the effort. Do me a favor and hold still, will you? This’ll only hurt… Hm, a lot, probably,” she snickered, as she raised her arms, preparing what looked to be her fate-sealing spell.

It was a shame they were on opposite sides. Ghirahim reckoned he might have gotten along with her.

Right as she was about to unleash a frightening amount of crackling energy, something broke her concentration. Midna’s head shot around in shock at the sound of a horn in the northeast. She glared back at Zant, who was still straining against the insistent jaws of her wolves. “Kakariko! That’s out of the warzone, what are you doing!? Elders and children are hiding there!”

His head hung low, but his shoulders shook with laughter. “Then I suppose you should have hidden them better!”

“You’re a monster!”

Zant raised his head again, gagging on his own spit as he coughed out a snickering, sneering reply. “And you’re surprisingly negligent! The Goddesses know your forces haven’t found our most vulnerable!”

A visible rage bubbled and fizzed inside Midna. The tendrils of her hair glowed a violent orange, twisting and coiling as they raised behind her, like a scorpion’s tail preparing to strike. This was Ghirahim’s cue. He showered himself in the diamond flurry of his teleportation magic, and appeared directly behind Zant. The metallic sound of his quickstep maneuver alerted their foe, but she only truly realized what had happened when an obsidian black blade drove itself through the powerful neck of one of her spectral familiars. The beast yelped, releasing its grip on Zant’s bloodstained sleeve, before dissipating into shreds, like burning paper in the wind. He quickly ducked underneath Zant’s arm and, while his co-lieutenant attempted to break free from the second wolf, sprinted at Midna to deliver a swift strike. Instantly, she changed the directory of her hair, and swung the radiant tendrils towards him, instead, their frayed tips aimed right at his chest.

This was his greatest gamble, but one he had chosen wisely. He and Midna had never faced each other in battle before, and so, they were both ignorant of one another’s abilities. Ghirahim’s finest ability happened to be his perfect blades. Bracing his free hand against the blade’s blunt edge, he shielded himself with his sword, parrying the oncoming assault with one swift, slicing motion. He hardly had to exert any force; Midna’s own furious strike gave enough of a push to get the job done. Not expecting the sheer sharpness of his blade, instead of pushing it to the side and overpowering him, her tendrils were split instantly like shaved wood.

To most people, the agonized scream that burst out of Midna would have been horrid, but it was music to Ghirahim’s ears. She gripped her head tightly before quickly retracting her tendrils. They did not bleed, but clearly, she had feeling in them. This, too, they could use to their advantage.

“Greetings and salutations!” Ghirahim flourished and bowed, “three against one is simply no way to win, wouldn’t you agree? I thought I’d balance the numbers a little bit.”

Midna, still reeling from the blow, glared daggers at the two men before her. Zant joined by his side again, having wrestled his way out of the other wolf’s grip. She was furious. The energy she had been building returned to her at once, and with a wild fling of her arms, she sent a massive ball of twilight magic hurtling toward them. Zant was by far too winded to dodge the blow, and Ghirahim, shamefully, couldn’t get out of range fast enough. Though the blast only grazed his leg, the impact soon surged through his whole body. Like a lightning bolt, dark energy crackled and conducted through his metal core, nearly sending him falling to his knees. Now, that just wouldn’t do. The ache inside him reawakened from her magic, but his rage fueled him with adrenaline, pushing past the limits his pain oh so futilely tried to restrain his abilities with. Rapier extended, he lunged at Midna, aiming straight for the face. Hitting this little woman proved incredibly difficult; not only was she quite small, but her command over gravity allowed her to zip away from his blows like a buzzing insect. It was infuriating, and not doing many favors to his technique. Still, she was equally struggling to land a blow on him. She now feared the sharpness of his blade and turned hesitant. In his flurry of strikes, she couldn’t seem to find an opening past the barrier of jabs and swings. Even so, Midna was tricky. Before Ghirahim knew it, one of her oversized ankle-biters was gnawing at his injured leg. The beast yelped as teeth struck steel past his negligible layer of skin, but it only added to the distraction. It was only ever a distraction. While his eyes quickly darted to the wolf, she instantly took the opportunity by the horns. The large, hair-woven hand extending from her head clutched his dominant arm in a flash. With a quick twist, she threatened to dislocate his beautiful features, the metal of his joints groaning against the pressure as she forced him to bend backward. It forced his hand open, and his sword clattered to the ground. He could rip and writhe all he wanted. Though he exceeded her in brute strength, any tug he made at that tendrilous arm simply made it extend further from her head. Was this brat going to overpower him so easily?

Obviously, the answer was no. With a snip of his fingers with his free hand, a row of daggers began floating above his head, points aimed straight at Midna. Of course, sharp as she was, she saw this and prepared to dodge.

She could only come as far as preparing. Suddenly, she gasped, and her body froze. Zant had stumbled up behind the two and, with a raised hand, restrained her with his own magic. Spindly fingers twisted and squeezed the air as she began to contort, gasping and choking as the air was pushed from her chest. With another snap of his fingers, Ghirahim sent the daggers flying straight at her face. A miscalculation on his part. The pest managed to rip her head free and, with a twist of her neck, deflected most of his projectiles against her stone helmet. But not all of them. A nasty gash had been cut across her cheek and lip, and her shoulder was grazed by a rogue dagger. Not his finest work, but it had to do.

“I will take it from here,” a deep voice rumbled behind him, before Midna was launched backward, smashing against the wall of the keep. This fight was personal, and Ghirahim stood down. Despite this harsh blow, she was still standing. Zant, limping and swaying from his injuries, dragged his way towards Midna and lifted his hand again. A storm of purple, glowing orbs spouted from his sleeves, hurtling at her at breakneck speeds. She raised her hair-clad hand in an attempt to deflect them, but the last of them managed to burn a hole in her defenses. She was struck, sent spinning from its force, and snarled in pain. But Midna did not go down so easily. With a remarkably quick lunge, she zipped through the air towards him and, with her fist balled, pushed him backwards again. He grunted against the impact but struggled to regain his footing. When he managed to bend himself back upright, he was enraged to find that she had turned her back on him. Midna was getting away. With a screech, he swung his scimitars free from his sleeves and sprinted after her.

It was no use. She looked back at him once more, and with a single wave of her hand, disappeared into a portal underfoot.

Zant screamed in protest, attempting to jump into the portal after her, but it disintegrated before his feet hit the ground. His metal shoes thudded into the dirt path instead. Whimpering and seething, he stomped where she vanished, as if the force of his feet alone could send him where she had gone. His stomps lost their vigor as the pain of his injuries overtook him, and he simply slumped over. That is, until he raised his hand, preparing to conjure a portal of his own.

But before he could attempt to, a glove-clad hand pulled his arm back down. “Zant, that’s enough! She’s fled!”

Zant whipped his head around to face him, his voice shrill and ragged. “Yes! To Kakariko! I know where she’s gone, I can—“

“You can get yourself killed. If that brat retreats, her troops will follow. We won, Zant.”

“But she got away,” he whined, pulling insistently to try to free his arm. He hissed when the nagging pain of his injuries refused to let him do so.

“Yes, but we captured her pinnacle keep. That is enough, for now,” Ghirahim insisted, leaning closer to that tacky helmet of his. “The Master would not be happy to hear one of his lieutenants risked an advantage over foolish, reckless decisions. You told me so yourself, no?”

Zant panted and cried as he regained his senses. They stood there a while, quietly staring at one another. Ghirahim increasingly sternly squinted at him, trying to will him out of his bloodlust stupor through his gaze alone. As they stood there, the taps of the rain on Zant’s helmet slowly began to thin out. The storm had finally ceased, as if through a twist of fate, the Goddesses smiled upon their victory for a change. Ghirahim sighed and peeked past the tall figure of the Twili before him to examine the battlefield. The clash of steel was slowly fading. With the alarm call from Kakariko, it appeared the Hyruleans became far more occupied with defending a single village, rather than guarding their dwindling territory from the Demon King’s advance.

The sentimental fools.

A gangly hand clutched his arm, as Zant fell to his knees before him. Ragged wheezes echoed from behind his helmet, as his body quaked and shivered. Just how much did those two manage to injure each other?

Ghirahim sighed. “You can whine and whimper all you want, but I’m not carrying you back.”

Zant did not respond.

For just a moment, he was caught off guard by his own train of thought. I certainly hope I haven’t gone soft, he thought to himself. He rolled his eyes, and placed a hand on Zant’s shoulder. Before the first rays of the sun could peek through the dwindling clouds, they were already long gone, fading to the keep in the cloak of Ghirahim’s diamond flurry.

—————

That night was one of thorough merrymaking. The capture of the Eldin outskirts had proved to be an overwhelming success, despite the beaten states of their lieutenants. Their own casualties were minimal; Zant’s gamble had proved correct, and the enforcing of hand-to-hand combat of man against man worked magnificently in their favor. The Hyruleans were squished like bugs under their thumbs, and turned tail right when their commander did.

Ghirahim was seated at one of the higher tables in the mess hall, pleasantly mingling with some of their chief commanders. Or, well, seemingly pleasantly. Frankly, he didn’t care much for their company. They were simple beings with simple desires, mortal souls with little in common with him. He just smiled cordially when he was spoken to, resting his chin on his hand, idly looking on at the group of party-goers before him. He wasn’t quite listening to his surroundings. It was all just meaningless noise to him, buzzing in one ear out the other. Had he any equivalent organs to speak of, he would be getting a headache right about now. Or… Perhaps he already did? Midna’s magic had done a strange number on him and hadn’t quite yet run its course. He gazed at the mannerisms enfolding before him. Large mugs of ale poured into the gaping mouths of his monstrous forces, fizz bubbling down the corners of their mouths as they billowed with laughter. They sang, playfully hit one another, and stuffed their faces with the spoils of war. Despite many of them being injured, some missing entire limbs after the battlefield, it was like it had been simply any other day. Of all the distasteful things they were doing, Ghirahim supposed he admired that kind of resilience, in a way.

Something was awry, though. He hadn’t actually seen Zant since the preparations for their feast started.

Something unprecedented rang through him. As he sat staring in his seat, as though looking directly through the crowd before him and into another world, he managed to put his finger on just what that feeling was. Anxiety. A mild one, but certainly there. He found himself a touch worried for his co-lieutenant.

And that annoyed him. Certainly, he hadn’t succumbed to his injuries, but instead locked himself in some secluded room, tucked away like a sick animal feeling sorry for himself. Just the thought of such a piteous display made him angry. He hesitated to say that Zant was better than acting like that — it would have been fairly typical of him, in fact — but, if the man wanted to masquerade as a powerful ruler so badly, he ought to at least act like it. He excused himself, and promptly left the hall.

The new Eldin keep was a rather straightforward building. A large block of a structure, with one main ceremonial hall (currently being desecrated by their partying forces), some storage rooms to the side, and a second story of personal dwellings. Ghirahim reckoned it was a servants’ house, once. Well, it was better than a tent. His search for his companion did not take too long. He swung open the door to one of the storage rooms, only to see a distinctly bamboo-shoot-shaped silhouette a ways out the little window. At least he’s not holed up somewhere, he thought to himself, before zipping himself to the other side of the window.

He found Zant outside the keep, facing west, seated upon a stool he must have snuck out of the dining hall. The sun was only barely peeking past the horizon in front of them, blurry and shivering in the illusion of its own heat. He figured those last rays of light were the reason Zant’s helmet was still on.

Ghirahim cleared his throat, catching the attention of his co-lieutenant, who struggled to turn back to him. “We seem to keep finding each other at dusk, don’t we?”

“It was you who found me, but yes, it seems so,” he replied. Zant’s voice was its usual haunting depth, suggesting an overall calm mood. Surprising, considering his state when they last saw each other.

Ghirahim shook his head with a chuckle. “You’re not joining us for the festivities?”

Zant shook his head in response. “No, ah… Far too noisy. I do quite prefer it out here. It’s peaceful, this time of day,” he stated, idly examining the mug he held in his grip. “Though,” he said, grunting a bit as he turned in his seat, “I wouldn’t mind sharing this peace with fond company.”

A second stool materialized next to him, and he gestured with his sleeve with a sweeping motion, inviting him to come sit. Declining would only be impolite. Ghirahim sighed through his nose and smiled, playing along with his offer, moving over to sit next to him. Zant appeared to be doing not much more than staring at the sun. He surmised there was some form of bittersweetness to the sight to him. Such a thing of beauty, even if it threatened to scorch his skin if he bathed in its glory too long.

He turned to Zant again, who, as if on cue, met his gaze before he could even speak. “I do think you should at least show your face in there, Zant,” he began. “I do so hate to admit it, but we only won the way we did today because of your planning.”

Zant sighed in reply, but Ghirahim interrupted him before he could smack down his offer. “They’d be carrying you through the hall on their shoulders! Our forces are in an exceptionally good mood after today.”

Nothing but silence came from the stone-cold helmet, before he spoke again. “… You have been bragging about me to our men?”

Such an astute observation! Ghirahim thought he’d been subtle enough with his words. “Ha! I suppose so. I had to repay you for what you did for me on the battlefield somehow. I’m not quite fond of the thought of being indebted to you,” he chattered, reclining gracefully in his seat.

If Ghirahim didn’t know any better, he thought he heard a snicker. Zant sat back, temporarily retracting the tongue-like visor of his helmet to take a sip of his beverage. His pointed lips curled into a smirk against the cup. Oh, he was laughing. He had to put him in his place again quickly before the smugness got to his head.

“… Next time, I suppose taking naps in the middle of our briefing is off the table. If you hadn’t been dozing off, then perhaps you would have considered the possibility of finding Midna among the enemy troops, and we wouldn’t have gotten battered the way we did.” Ghirahim sneered, though playfully.

Zant’s smirk faltered, and the shutter quickly closed over his mouth again. “I suppose,” he sighed, “I got a little ahead of myself.” His fingers idly drummed on the edge of his cup, cyan nails knocking on the ceramic. Did he… Paint his nails?

“This too, however, is an advantage. I believe I have sufficiently teased out the worst of her abilities today. Now we know what to expect,” Zant continued, at this point more talking to himself.

Ghirahim just grinned at him. “So you let yourself get clobbered on purpose?”

Zant hummed, unable to restrain a laugh. Ghirahim joined him. “Please, let it rest.”

Silence fell on the amused pair. They were content at that moment to sit, drinking in the view with the distant sounds of celebration behind them. Still, it seemed the two were as starved for conversation as they usually were, as Zant soon turned to him again.

“Ghirahim, how are your injuries? I do hope you’ve managed to restore the damage done to your sword. As a living weapon, your ability to fight is quite a pressing matter.”

He raised his brow behind his bangs. He didn’t expect genuine concern from the man. “Injury isn’t exactly the right term, you know. But, no, I’ve not yet managed to repair it. I was planning on doing so tonight when all calms down.”

Zant nodded. “I reckon it might be a while before it ‘calms down’, though,” he stated, gesturing idly to the bustling noise behind them. “I’m aware of how well you take care of your weapons. I imagine you must be on edge, with one of your favorites in such a state of disrepair.”

Ghirahim sighed. Zant was right, but it didn’t matter to him either way. He didn’t exactly need to sleep, so there was no real rush to repair his sword. So long as he didn’t have to move too much, or think too hard, the ache the lodged blade radiated through his body was perfectly manageable. His eyes quickly flitted to Zant. The Twili, though sitting in a semblance of comfort, didn’t seem to be managing his own pain well. There was a stiffness in his pose and a wheeze to his breath, as one would when struggling to alleviate the pressure of an injury. Still, his robes and armor were clean, as though he hadn’t set a single foot on the battlefield.

He supposed he had to ask, too, for politeness’ sake. “What about you? She really let you have it back there, and I don’t exactly see any bandages.”

Zant swallowed in reply. “They’re under my clothes. Ah, I will — Manage. So long as I can walk and move my hands, all will be well.”

That reply was all Ghirahim needed to know that he wouldn’t be seeing Zant leave his dwelling all too much the next day. To his foes, he could lie and scheme as though it was his mother tongue, but it seemed his honesty slipped through the cracks around his allies. How thoroughly unexpected.

The sun was truly setting now, reduced to a mere sliver on the edge of the horizon. They once again found themselves in that orange and pink haze from several nights before, though there were no trees to shield them this time around. Such a fledgling twilight got Ghirahim thinking. He wondered if Zant was loose-lipped enough from the candidness they had since established, and whether he was enough of a lightweight to get chatty after half a cup of mead.

“… Zant, forgive me if I pry, but I have been wondering,” he began, Zant turning to him as he spoke. “The battle of this afternoon seemed… Charged. I can’t help but assume there’s a certain history between you and that Princess.”

A sigh heaved in reply. “To put it simply, she despises me. I hesitate to say I don’t do the same.”

He was silent for a moment, hunching over to rest his elbows on his lap as he considered his next words. “We were friends as children, but… As it became clear that we were both suitable competitors for the throne, I suppose we must have drifted apart. She and I had… Different, ideas, about what it meant to rule.”

Zant clenched his fist as he spoke, his voice gradually rising in pitch and his teeth clenching. “While our people, our lands, were deteriorating before our very eyes, Midna chose inaction. When she ripped my spot on the throne from me, she gained the power to change everything, and she simply sat idle. I could not stand for it.”

He shook his head, slumping over as he thought to himself. “I will not pretend that I’m proud of everything I did to her then. But let it be known that Midna was, and is, an infuriatingly unreasonable, stubborn hellion. She just wouldn’t listen until I made her. There was some painful irony in forcing her into a body she would grow to hate, but she left me little choice. If I had left her unencumbered, she would have tried to either stop or kill me.”

Zant sighed, but chuckled bitterly as he realized something. “I suppose she succeeded at both, in the end.” He regained his composure and pulled himself back upright with a groan. “Perhaps this second time, I — We, rather, will be more successful.”

It was a curious development for Ghirahim. Truly, Zant struck him as a remorseless, cruel fiend. He was like a living tornado on the battlefield. Same as he, Zant delighted in the trail of carnage he left behind. He spoke so nonchalantly about his plans and deeds that to find a man such as himself carrying regrets of his own was like cutting a stone in half, only to find it bleeding. “I didn’t expect a brooding man like you to be so eager to tell me his life’s stories like this,” he pondered out loud with raised eyebrows, struggling to conceal his surprise.

In their silence, Zant appeared to have been drifting off to someplace else, but Ghirahim’s comment pulled him back, grounding him. “Ah, well… I spend plenty of time inside my own head. It’s nice, in a way, to have a listening ear, other than my own.” The shutters of his helmet rose again as he put his cup back to his lips, draining it with a tip of his head. He growled when the liquid slid down his throat, setting the cup down on the ground beside him with a light smack. Ghirahim figured, in mild amusement, that he wasn’t fantastic at holding his liquor.

Zant sat hunched over, breathing a little less heavily than he did before. “Ghirahim, won’t you trade me a tale for a tale? Surely, in your centuries of living, you have stories worth telling.”

Ghirahim laughed, his fangs peeking out from behind his lips. “Oh, no,” he raised a hand, as if to halt him, “you will not get candor out of me so easily. I’ll not let you be privy to my many secrets just yet. Perhaps when we face my own rival, I may tell you a thing or two about her.”

And yet, that little information was enough for Zant to find a topic to hook onto. He sat perked up, lips mildly pouted in intrigue. “Rival? You mean, the spirit of the Master Sword,” he questioned, childishly mimicking a walking motion with his fingers. “The dancing one?”

Ghirahim groaned and nodded. “That very one.”

Zant gazed at him for a while, seemingly thinking, before speaking again. “Something just occurred to me. How come that that blasted hero always wields the same blade, but our Master battles with something different every time? Wouldn’t his weapon of choice logically be… You?”

Didn’t he just tell that nosy, impudent fool that he wasn’t going to indulge him? And to pry in such a sore spot, after he himself had been so considerate. If he wanted to make things awkward, then so be it. “Oh, well,” he sighed melodramatically. “I was supposed to be, indeed, but in our fateful battle against the Hero of the Sky, my Master, Demise… Shattered me.”

Zant’s curious expression from earlier faltered. He seemed to be feeling bad for asking. Good. The Twili’s lips tightened in a frown. “… I see. How very careless.”

Ghirahim’s lip twitched, annoyed by not only his prying but now also an insult towards his true Master. He was perfectly content with letting the conversation drop and excusing himself, but Zant continued. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re back now, same as I.”

He smirked. “And thank the stars for that. Where would you lot be without me?” he cooed, resting his chin on his hands.

Zant laughed in reply, toeing a fine line between genuine warmth and mockery. “Oh, yes! I would propose a toast to that, but it appears that you don’t drink, and my cup has since gone empty,” he moped, picking up his mug to examine its lack of contents.

“Please don’t get a refill. You’re already woozy.”

“That,” Zant raised a finger in emphasis, “would be the blood loss.”

The sheer timing startled him into a laugh, which Zant responded to with his own guffaw. “Oh, you’ve got jokes, now?” Ghirahim snickered, covering his mouth with his fingertips. He hadn’t meant to lose his poise like that.

“You and I are learning quite a lot about one another lately, it seems,” Zant wheezed as his chortling died out.

If there was anything Ghirahim wasn’t expecting, it was Zant’s ability to lighten the mood. From the moment they met, he had been a silent, awkward, ominous being, incapable of responding in sentences longer than five words. Perhaps it had been the booze, or simply a long-dormant desire to chat with a like-minded being. Probably both. They continued to chat absolute nonsense until the sun disappeared completely, draining the keep’s terrain of its light and color. Now, the only things keeping them out of the dark were the torchlights of the feasting hall behind them, and the soft, teal glow of Zant’s clothing, bouncing off of his metallic skin. At some point, he had scooted closer to him, as Zant’s combined exhaustion and inebriated state began to dim his voice. At one point, the man had turned to him, eyes only somewhat visible, glowing behind his helmet.

“Ghirahim, I had one more question, if I may.”

He rolled his eyes in return, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “You’ve already waltzed right over my toes several times tonight, what’s one more?”

Zant paused, looking for the right words. “What you did when we parted on the battlefield this afternoon. What did you mean by it?”

Now things were getting interesting. Ghirahim was wondering whether Zant would bring up the topic and was pleasantly surprised to see him being even a semblance of boldness. “You’re being frustratingly vague as usual, but I assume you mean when I kissed you.”

Zant sat there tongue-tied for a second, mouth tight and expressionless. “Yes.”

He sighed. “Oh, I don’t quite know,” he prattled. It was an honest reply, and despite his eagerness to tease, he found himself unsure of what he actually thought of what he did then. “You had shown me such kindness amidst all the chaos, and I suppose I must have gotten a little carried away in the moment.”

“I see,” he mumbled in response, turning his head to look out in front of him again.

After a pause that seemed like ages, Zant straightened himself up in unforeseen, yet anxiously stiff determination. “Ghirahim, I suppose — I wouldn’t mind, if you were to get carried away again,” he crooned, his attempts at cloaking his nerves with courtesy failing miserably.

“Twilight king,” he smirked, tipping his head as he leaned towards him. “Is that your pathetic attempt at asking me for a kiss?”

Zant swallowed audibly, seemingly a bit peeved by how forward Ghirahim was being. “If you wish to put it so bluntly…”

His unexpected bashfulness caused Ghirahim to titter. Certainly, those aiming for the throne should have more confidence in their attempts at courting. He casually rested his arm on Zant’s shoulder, leaning on him to lock them in intimate eye contact. The Twili turned to him but did nothing to escalate his advances. To Ghirahim’s great interest, it looked as though Zant was expecting him to take the lead. “… Well? Are you going to take that clunky thing off your head so I can reach? Unless me kissing your helmet already does it for you.” He was powerless to deny such a power trip.

Clearly, Zant was not a being of great subtlety. Nearly instantly, a clunk sounded from the back of his neck, and the complex mechanisms of his helmet folded into one another. To Ghirahim’s surprise, he did not wear his usual balaclava; the garment must have been pressing too tightly on his bruises. Pinkish red hair draped in chopped locks down to about his chin, and long, pointed ears extended from either end of his face. Any other time he would comment on a haircut so atrocious, but he let it slide this time. The second his helmet retracted fully, Ghirahim draped his arms around his neck, pressing his chest against his. He wanted to tease the man just a little longer, and it was working magnificently. Zant’s ears perked up and twitched and, unless it was a trick of the light, a blush began to spread across his cheeks. He gazed at the man blinking sheepishly down at him, and slowly took note of how oddly graceful his features were. His markings glowed softly under the starlight, tracing down to the gentle slope of his nose. Those big, unrelenting eyes, normally shy to face him, now looked straight at him, wide and with a feline sharpness. There was truly not a shred of subtlety to him once that helmet went off. Every bit of fluster was clear as day on his face. Ghirahim broke their eye contact with a bat of his lashes, peeking down at his grey, angled lips, before looking up at him one last time. He closed his eyes, humming as he leaned in.

As their lips met, Zant once again stiffened beneath him. Though he had requested it, it seemed the Twili hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with himself while they kissed. After a beat, the orange glow faded from beyond Ghirahim’s eyelids, meaning he had at least closed his eyes instead of dumbfoundedly staring in front of him. It then dawned on him that either it had been a very long time since Zant’s last kiss, or that he had just stolen his first.

After a few seconds of being pressed together, Ghirahim pulled back, tongue quickly darting past his lips. He hardly tasted of drink at all. What a lightweight. “There,” he purred, “are you quite sated?”

Zant let out a squeaking gasp as they parted, once again staring wide-eyed at him. He was still stiff as a board. Such an absolute bore, Ghirahim thought, now aiming to loosen him up.

Before he could respond, Ghirahim made the call for him. “I know that look. That’s a ‘no’,” he chuckled, before quickly moving in again to kiss him a second time. Zant yelped in protest, the flapping of his sleeves and tassels sounding between them as he struggled to put his hands on his waist. They separated again, mostly due to Zant’s head bucking backward.

“Ghirahim,” he stammered. “Show some restraint!”

He just rolled his eyes in response, pushing against him to send the pair of them swaying. “Oh, why? It’s just the two of us. What are you keeping up images for?”

Apparently, he made a compelling enough argument. With a single determined grunt through his nose, it was Zant who initiated the kiss this time. He was clearly unpracticed, but oh, the lanky arms wrapping around his lower back were just too endearing. The poor sod was really trying here. Ghirahim just hummed against his lips, allowing himself to sink into the pillowing of his robes. His steel-hard body must have been painful against his beaten flesh, but from the way Zant held him, he wouldn’t have thought it. To think that a man such as he was capable of such sweetness.

Still, he noted that Zant forgot that he could still breathe through his nose, and so, he pulled back. He lingered in his arms just a moment, head tipped with an amorous smile when they locked eyes again. “And,” he asked him, “was it everything you’ve ever hoped for?”

Zant, who had been staring, panting softly in his trance, slowly regained his composure. “Oh, spare me.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” he snickered, still hanging from his shoulders. Frankly, it had been a long time for him, too, to show affection for someone else. Affection? Was that what he felt? Zant was a strangely adorable figure, who, the past few days, he’d be getting along swimmingly with. Though he hated to admit it, they complemented one another. He was an irksome, unpredictable person, but just so terribly interesting. Had it not been for him, then their conquest would have been an equally lonely, frustrating affair as his attempts to resurrect Demise. Ghirahim thought he preferred to work alone, but to be honest, he did so hate to be bored. Since their friendship had come to fruition, he hasn’t been bored for more than a minute. Certainly, getting to shove him about in a more romantic sense would prove to be devilishly amusing too.

Oh, Hell. Was he staring?

Even if he was, Zant stared right back at him. The moonlight framed him so handsomely, his radiant features contrasting against his skin like stars in the midnight sky. He truly was a creature made to dwell in the dark. Maybe the perpetual twilight wasn’t exactly in Zant’s plans anymore, but it certainly would do his appearance far more favors than being locked behind that tacky helmet all day.

While Ghirahim was more than happy to stay locked in this embrace for a few more hours, his companion was getting a touch nervous. He averted his gaze, and with a clear of his throat, slowly disentangled his arms from the Sword Demon's back. “Ghirahim, I thank you for your companionship and your indulging of my — Advances, but,” he quickly looked to the keep, anxiously checking for any peeping toms, “after such a day, I do think I must retire for the night.”

So formal, even as they stood in each others’ arms. He couldn’t resist taunting him a little bit. “Oh? Are you inviting me to your room already? How cheeky.”

He managed to make him stutter. “Ghirahim..!” he sputtered, hiding his hands in his sleeves. “I… Am flattered by your offer, but my body is far too worn from battle, I don’t think I—“

Ghirahim shook his head with a laugh. “I’m just yanking your chain,” he drawled, idly tucking a strand of hair behind Zant’s ear. It truly was such an abominable haircut. “You hurry along, now, Twilight King. Thank you for tonight. I’ve truly had a splendid time.” He stepped back, his arms sliding off the tall man’s shoulders and crossing before his chest. Zant nodded in affirmation, supposedly cordially, but he was shaky from both his injuries and his fluster.

“Goodnight, Demon Lord.” He slowly stepped back from him, ribbing him with his proper title, before heading back to the keep.

Before he could leave him proper, Ghirahim called out to him again. “Rest well! I expect to see you again at the briefing tomorrow,” he paused, as Zant looked back at him. “Awake, this time!”

… Did he just flip him off? Wow. Perhaps a trip to Lake Hylia wouldn’t be a bad idea for their first date…

#beararts #bearwrites #ghirazant #ghirahim #zant #tp zant #midna #tp midna #hyrule warriors #tftk

26 notes · View notes