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skyloftian-nutcase ¡ 1 year ago
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Elastic Heart Ch 7 (Linked Universe story)
Summary: When Sky goes missing, the Chain scrambles to figure out where he is and what happened before it's too late.
(AO3 link)
First
<<Previous // Next>>
Hyrule Castle hardly felt like the safest place for any of the Links given most of their adventures, but it was as good a place to regroup and heal as any other. Although the entire group was well aware that the knights were useless, and the whispers of nobility hung close over their shoulders, the queen gave them as much privacy as possible and lent her best healers to their cause.
The next twenty-four hours were a somber affair. The heroes kept vigil at the beds of their fallen friends. When they weren’t fretting over them, they were wandering aimlessly, too forlorn for words and too anxious for rest.
It was late into the night after their return from the desert, and Time was staring into a fire contemplatively, his mind still trying to process everything. Twilight had already eased him out of his armor, which had been silently hidden until it could be cleaned of Sky’s blood. Somehow, despite all his experience, Time still seemed to be the least functional when someone was this injured.
How was it that in the span of four weeks he’d almost lost two of his boys? He still hadn’t figured out what had led to this, why Sky had been so terrified, so insistent that they leave, why he’d been apologizing with his dying breath.
There was just… so much. All of it was too much. The Shadow, Sky, all of it. Why had the Shadow taken his form and then spoken such words about Sky creating him? Was that why Sky had been so concerned with eliminating it himself? Some words about a curse, lies hissed between demonic teeth about how Sky had somehow made this mess?
Goddesses above… what had that thing convinced Sky? No matter what had started this… surely Sky wasn’t blaming himself for it?
That had to be the issue. Sky, sweet and soft, always in the background until he decided it was time to cause a little mischief… the boy had always been the least of Time’s concerns when it came to causing actual trouble. He’d always seemed the calmest, the most put together, the least traumatized, the most normal. Between that and his adoration for a sword Time would rather see at the bottom of Lake Hylia, the boy had never really been someone that Time had to keep a close eye on.
Yet here he’d been, taking on the weight of their journey himself and trying to leave the others behind. He’d nearly gotten himself killed for it.
Time had assumed the position of leader in this group and he’d nearly failed in recognizing when one of its members was in desperate need of help.
How long had Sky been spiraling like this? What had led him to this point? Had the Shadow spoken to him on the night he’d taken watch? Had it started before then? Did he blame himself for Twilight’s injury as well? What else was he hiding? What curse had the Shadow been talking about?
Time heard footsteps, and he turned to see the veteran walking morosely through the room, pointedly ignoring his leader. Twilight stood at the entranceway to the room sectioned off for their two fallen brothers, arms crossed as he watched Legend leave. When Time’s eye met his own, he said, “Finally convinced him to go to bed.”
“How are you holding up?” Time found himself asking before he could stop himself. He was worried for all of them, especially his descendant, who naturally took others’ wellbeing and protection as his own personal responsibility. They were all heroes, they all felt that burden, but his Ordonian made it his life’s mission to protect his loved ones far more than anyone else.
Not to mention Time had been doing a terrible job of checking in on anyone.
Twilight sighed tiredly. “I… would feel better if I were the one in the bed. It’s way worse just being the one helplessly looking on.”
Time would rather not relive the events of a month ago, but he knew what Twilight meant. It was the worst feeling in the world, being a child of destiny, someone who was so used to fixing all the problems, and being stuck in a situation where there was absolutely nothing to do.
“I know,” Time said simply, resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Cap’s still in there,” Twilight said quietly, eyes looking at the ground as his own emotions got the better of him. “I managed to get the rest out. Vet was the last.”
Time hadn’t even been in there since their arrival. Warriors hadn’t left the boys’ side. It was almost as if their positions were reversed from the last time. He wasn’t sure he should be happy about it or not. He felt almost guilty for not hovering the same way, but he’d been fairly useless last time. It would be better if he could actually help the others as Warriors had, but he’d spent the majority of the day in a daze, guided around by Twilight, who had taken the captain’s role in guiding and leading everyone else.
What an insane week this turned out to be.
“Get some sleep,” Time finally said, patting Twilight’s cheek affectionately before lowering his hand.
Twilight watched him uncertainly, biting his lip and nodding. He walked by without another word. The eldest Link took a steadying breath, heading into the room.
It was a fairly small chamber, with both beds’ headboards against the same wall. Time saw Warriors asleep in the chair between the two, scooted a little closer to Hyrule’s bed. The captain was dressed down in his undertunic and pants, scarf and armor set aside in his own quarters. Time pulled an extra blanket that was folded by the bedside and wrapped it gently around his fellow hero. Despite his attempt to be gentle, the captain stirred, one of the lightest sleepers in the group, and turned bleary eyes towards his elder.
“Go to bed,” Time said softly. “I’ll watch them.”
Frazzled and exhausted, Warriors let out a weary exhale, rubbing his face. Time thought better of his dismissal, recalling that the captain had checked in on him in the past, that he himself had just checked in on Twilight. He shouldn’t brush off the man just because he held himself together better than anyone else.
“It’ll… be all right,” he tried to reassure the man hesitantly.
Warriors stiffened, shoulders shaking, much to Time’s alarm. However, instead of sobs, he heard an amused snort. The captain looked up, eyes exhausted but somewhat alight. “You’re really not good at this whole emotional support thing, are you?”
Despite his own mood, Time found himself scowling mildly. “That bad?”
“Your tone isn’t reassuring at all.”
“I’m not used to saying things that…”
“That you don’t believe?” Warriors finished for him. “Me neither. That’s why I try distraction instead.”
Time huffed, looking between the two sleeping boys. They both looked so peaceful now. Not pale, not on death’s door, not desperate or begging for forgiveness.
He sighed heavily as his gaze returned to the captain. Not recognizing he was under scrutiny, Warriors had let his expression be more open, fear and worry pulling at him. He looked so damn tired. He’d seen this too many times. Time himself had seen the expression when Twilight had been dying.
Warriors was far more accustomed to this than any of them. And Time hated that.
The captain shifted to get up, but then he paused, staring at the bed. Time followed his gaze, watching with sudden intensity as their esteemed traveler scrunched his nose and twisted in bed a little, eyes fluttering open.
“Traveler? Link?” Warriors leaned forward alongside Time, his hand gently reaching for Hyrule’s shoulder.
The Hero of Hyrule blinked a few times, seeming to register his surroundings, and then he gasped, practically leaping into a seated position. Time immediately sat on the bed just as Warriors jumped forward, both placing steadying hands on the teenager’s shoulders.
“Sky!” Hyrule immediately exclaimed, squirming under their hold.
“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Warriors insisted, putting a second hand on the boy’s chest. “He’s here.”
Hyrule paused, panting for air, eyes wide and wild, before they settled on the pair. “He’s okay?”
Time and Warriors exchanged a look before the leader spoke. “He’s here.”
Hyrule huffed, eyes wet, and then he laughed shakily, tucking his knees into his chest. “I—I thought—I thought he—I—”
He laughed again, more nervous than before, entire body trembling. Warriors settled on the mattress beside him, arm wrapping around his shoulders carefully. Hyrule wasn’t the most comfortable with touch and usually didn’t engage in it, and neither Warriors nor Time were particularly cuddly men, but after everything, they all felt the need to stick close to each other. The traveler leaned into the hold, tears trailing down his cheeks as he continued to chuckle, his breaths quickly accelerating into something akin to panic and relief, a conglomeration of emotions crashing out of him in a fashion that he couldn’t control. Warriors held him tighter.
“We’re glad you’re alright,” Time said softly, his thumb tracing across the boy’s collarbone. “You scared us back there.”
“Yeah, what with the Triforce and all,” Warriors piped up, squeezing Hyrule a little more tightly as he smiled. “You sure did have quite the trick up your sleeve.”
Hyrule’s tearful relief evaporated in an instant, eyes widening with alarm. Time felt his own concern rise – did the boy not remember using it?
“It’s okay,” Time assured him. “We’re all heroes here, Traveler. We’ve borne pieces of the Triforce as well. I just didn’t realize one among us had carried the entire sacred relic. That’s quite an honor.”
“R-right,” Hyrule mumbled, looking at his knees.
“How are you feeling?” Warriors asked, brushing past the distressing topic.
“Where’s the Triforce?” Hyrule countered.
The elder pair glanced at each other again before answering honestly. “We… don’t know. It vanished once you’d finished using it.”
Hyrule watched them a moment, still and silent. Then he buried his head into his knees.
“We’ll find it,” Warriors assured him. “One way or another. Such an artifact stretches far beyond our understanding – it might have returned to your era.”
“I—I didn’t want him to die,” Hyrule said in a trembling voice.
“We know,” Time soothed gently, sliding his hand along Hyrule’s back. “We didn’t want that either.”
Hyrule glanced up at him, cheeks stained with tears once more. “He’s okay, right?”
Time swallowed. Sky remained quiet in the other bed. He pushed lightly on the teenager. “Get some sleep, Link.”
XXX
It was the middle of the night when Legend finally gave up on sleeping.
His mind was whirling too much. Watching Sky basically die right in front of him, watching Hyrule nearly kill himself with the effort to wish him back with the Triforce…
It had been entirely too familiar.
He thought he’d gotten passed that. He thought he’d learned to keep moving in spite of the shadows cast over him by his journeys.
Clearly he’d been wrong.
So the young hero, a veteran of more adventures than any of the others individually, found himself incapable of handling the situation. And he hated that.
Legend wandered the castle, ignoring the cold and uninviting stone all around him. His feet guided him back to the room they’d set aside for Hyrule and Sky. The candle in his hand flickered slightly at the draft in the cavernous antechamber, chilled now that the fire in the large hearth had mostly died down.
When he slowly opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to see someone holding vigil. Time glanced up to meet his gaze.
“Just wanted to check on them,” he said dully, not bothering to hide his reasoning. This felt so different from when Twilight had been injured – Hyrule had been in there constantly trying to heal him. They’d avoided the area to let him concentrate. It had been awful, but at least there’d been a thread of hope to work with. It wasn’t as if there weren’t healers here, but the words they’d been given were little comfort.
They’d needed rest. There was nothing else they could do.
No potion could heal someone who couldn’t drink it. No spell could be cast when the one who knew the spells was the one who was unconscious. And so they’d all just done the last thing they could do, the only thing they could do.
They kept them company.
They kept them company, and Legend simmered with grief, guilt, and unresolved emotions from so many years ago that he didn’t even know how to put words to them.
Time pat the empty chair beside him welcomingly. Legend was thankful for the invitation, thankful that there were no questions being asked. He shuffled over to the chair, watching Sky sleep before his eyes drifted to Hyrule next.
“Our traveler woke up earlier,” Time said quietly.
Legend turned to him, eyes wide. “He did?”
“Yes. I think he’ll be alright with some more rest.”
Thank the goddesses, he thought. He didn’t remember the Triforce being so draining, but Hyrule had used it to augment his magic and grant a wish, so perhaps it worked differently than it had for Legend all those years ago.
Time’s words hung in the air, and then there was silence. Legend’s candle held steady against the darkness, illuminating his face, but he had no words to offer. For a moment, as he watched Sky, it felt like he was holding vigil over a body, a mourner lost in time, adrift in a different Hyrule altogether, grieving the loss of someone who was equally displaced and wholly forgotten to this era.
His breath hitched in his throat. He swallowed hard.
The silence seemed suffocating, but he had nothing to say. Time shifted uncomfortably beside him, clearly trying to find the right words. Legend didn’t care.
Sky. Sky had… just like…
There was usually something to distract him at this point, some task he had to accomplish that made him move forward despite the emotions dragging him down. But this felt like the end of a journey, after his first one or after Koholint, where there was nothing left but the emptiness in his chest, the fresh wounds on his heart. He had no road to travel on, no home to go back to, no Zelda to talk to.
He just stared at Sky.
“I have confidence that the Triforce healed the worst of it,” Time said. “Though I do not know if he will fully recover—”
“He died,” Legend interrupted.
“Veteran… he’s right here. He’s alive.”
“No,” Legend said firmly, feeling his throat tighten. He swallowed hard to fight it. “No. You don’t get it. None of you gets it. He didn’t just get hurt, he didn’t just fall. He died.”
They didn’t understand. They didn’t realize why they felt the way they did. Even he couldn’t truly comprehend it, but he knew why. He knew because it had happened before.
“The Triforce brought him back,” Legend explained. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he died. He died and none of you get that, he died, he died—”
Legend didn’t know when he’d lost the battle with his voice, when the tears had started to leak out, when the words had devolved into pathetic sobs, an admittance to a grief that he’d carried with him for years, a fresh wound and terror and horror that had ingrained itself into his soul.
Sky was one of his dearest friends. And he’d died.
He couldn’t even be angry at the Shadow, couldn’t even be curious as to what its words had meant, couldn’t even be worried about why Sky had left in the first place. All he felt was utter and absolute grief and loss.
Because Sky had died. They’d had to resurrect him. The others were caught in a confused haze of worry and fear, as if they were just watching an injured brother instead of acknowledging what had actually happened, instead of realizing that they should be mourning too.
Legend’s cries grew louder, inadvertently waking Hyrule. He didn’t notice. He couldn’t see it through his tears, through the darkness that engulfed him when Time pulled him into a hug.
XXX
Sky didn’t wake the next morning when Hyrule did. The others celebrated seeing one of their brothers slowly recovering, but the mood was certainly dampened by a lack of progress from their most injured. Wild found purpose in nourishing Hyrule back to health while Warriors started to fall into a field medic mode of sorts. Sky’s comatose state still necessitated care, though it brought a morbid curiosity in Wild – after all, he’d been in a similar state for a century.
Clearly the Shrine of Resurrection worked its magic to help sustain him. Sky had no such luck. His body still functioned as if he were awake, requiring sustenance, removing waste. He needed to be fed and cleaned, to be moved so he wouldn’t get bed sores, to be prodded to see if there was a reaction. It was a morbid affair, and it made Wild uneasy. He’d only been asleep for two days and it already felt like a century in itself.
Wild found it too disturbing to watch. Instead, he helped the others. He felt like he had to pull his weight somehow, had to blink the images of Sky’s broken body in Time’s arms. Hyrule slowly improving was something they could all latch on to. Warriors never seemed to leave Sky’s room, and Twilight spent a fair amount of time in there as well alongside Time. Occasionally Legend and Four assisted, but Wind was kept away, as well as Hyrule. Wild just couldn’t stomach the sight of the care his beloved friend needed. Whenever any of the boys lamented the situation, however, Legend would firmly and adamantly say that Sky was going to be fine.
It was strange, how confident he was. But with all his experiences, Wild had to wonder if he knew something of the matter. He latched on to the hope nonetheless. It seemed silly not to hope in a recovery, given his own history, but, well… that had taken a while. Sky didn’t have a century.
As the sun set on the second day, however, worry began to hover over them like a cloud heavy laden with an oncoming rain. After all, there was no way they could nourish Sky if he didn’t wake up.
“He’ll wake up,” Legend insisted when Four pointed this out.
“Assuming he does, that still doesn’t address the biggest issue,” Four sighed. “What if… what if when he wakes up, he tries to leave again?”
“He wouldn’t!” Wind argued.
“How do you know?” Four fired back. “He’d been running from us the entire time!”
Wild watched the exchange warily. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t wondered what had caused all of this in the first place, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind that it could happen again. He felt Hyrule shift uncomfortably beside him, and he turned his attention to his exhausted brother.
“You don’t think he wanted to leave us, do you?” Hyrule asked him quietly.
Words latched on to the champion’s brain, having first hooked in his mind when he’d heard them two days ago.
You don’t realize how terribly you failed.
This entire journey, Wild had been the failure of the group. Hearing those words had made him think the Shadow had been addressing him when he’d known, he’d known that it had been addressing Sky. But what failure was Sky responsible for? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless, of course, the Shadow was simply talking about Sky’s pursuit of it. But… Sky’s frantic attempts to argue, to silence it…
“No,” Wild answered distantly. “I don’t think he wanted to leave us.”
XXX
“It’s been two hours; we should move him.”
“I can do it.”
“No, it’s all right. You carried him last time. I’ll do it.”
What? What was… what?
Link felt impossibly heavy. His half-addled brain wondered if he’d become a sword spirit like Fi, made entirely of metal.
He was lying on something soft, he knew that much. He felt like he was sinking into it so much that he would never be able to get out.
Except he was getting out of it. Or, well, floating out of it. Flying? Was he flying?
Warmth wrapped around his back and shoulders, around the back of his knees. Two grounding forces, holding him steady in a vast expanse of nothing. He felt himself dangling and shifting in rhythmic motions.
Distant voices grew closer as the sound of creaking wood emitted beneath him in shuffles.
“Don’t spill it!”
“Oh, quit your fussing, Vet! Here, Traveler, just drink slowly. We kept it warm for you.”
“Are you guys done arguing? I have a story to finish!”
Grumbles. Sighing.
“Go on, Sailor.” That voice rumbled, buzzing in Sky’s ear with the warmth of a hearth and accompanied by a gentle heartbeat.
“So there I was, thirty bokoblins between me and my goal—”
“Oh boy, they multiplied again,” a voice remarked dryly.
“What are you talking about?”
Sailor. Sailor? What?
Link tried to focus, but he was being lulled back to sleep by gentle sways as if he were laying on a hammock on Skyloft.
“It seems each time you tell it more bokoblins appear.” There was that rumbling tone again, waking Link slightly, relaxing him and drawing him into a trance. It was so familiar…
There was a decidedly annoyed huff in reply. “Hey, I know what I’m talking about! Anyway, so there were fifty bokoblins between me and—”
Link finally pried an eye open. Then he blearily tried to do it with his other eye. Everything was so blurry.
The hammock he was on continued to sway gently. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“That’s impossible and you know it, Sailor!”
“Nuh uh, that’s what happened—”
“Sky?”
The swaying stopped, jostling Link out of his relaxed state a little more. He tried to look up, but he couldn’t muster the strength. However, his perception was finally piecing together an image in his brain, and he belatedly realized he was not, in fact, lying on a hammock.
Someone was carrying him.
Someone was carrying him, and the sailor was here. But not just the sailor. He recognized all their voices.
“Sky, can you hear me?”
The rumbling from before returned. The gentle, steady heartbeat had increased a little. Who was carrying him? Link tried again with all his might to move his head, to tip it back just enough to see above, to identify who was holding him. It definitely wasn’t the captain; the voice was deeper than his. That just left Time and Twilight.
It had to be Twilight, then. The man was freakishly strong, and Time would never—
“Here—move this—put him here, old man.”
Huh?
Link felt his world move as the person carrying him—Time—took a few steps forward. There was scrambling and shuffling of items, hushed whispers and excited laughs. Link felt something somewhat hard and warm rise up to meet his back as he was laid on top of something, and his head settled on someone’s lap.
A hand gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes before settling on his chest, giving it a soft pat. With his head facing towards the ceiling, he saw eight faces slowly come into focus, all encircling him like flower petals around its center.
He drank in the sight, having missed his friends so much. Twilight was the one his head was resting on, the one who had a hand on his chest and a reassuring, gentle smile directly over him. Time stood behind Twilight, a hand on the rancher’s shoulder, also watching him, though his expression was less warm and more concerned. To Link’s left were Legend, who quickly placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, Wind, who was smiling so brightly he outshone the sunlight, and Warriors, who had both hands on Wind’s shoulders as he leaned over to see Link more clearly. Hyrule sat a distance away towards Link’s feet, with Wild directly beside him and holding him steadily in a side hug, his face beaming. To his right, Four’s smile was genuine and trembling, his eyes glistening with tears. Link managed to get the muscles in his face to cooperate, and he gave a weak smile.
The group let out a collective sigh of relief, and then laughter echoed in the air. Link was bombarded by voices competing for his attention.
“We were so worried—”
“Our Traveler nearly killed himself to get you better, we thought we were going to lose both of you!”
“We missed you so much, Sky—”
“We really thought you were a goner! Like seriously, Vet was crying—”
“I was not crying!!”
“Are you feeling okay?”
Everyone hushed at the question issued by Twilight. Link watched them all, his smile fading alongside his energy. He took a deep breath, trying to piece everything together, his mind still too slow to process it all, and Twilight patted his chest again.
“It’s okay if you’re too tired to talk,” Twilight said softly. “We got you out of bed so you wouldn’t get bed sores, but now that you’re waking up, maybe it’ll be okay?”
Here Twilight directed his attention to Warriors, seeming to ask him if it would, in fact, be all right. The captain ruffled Wind’s hair, making the sailor giggle and step aside, and he drew closer to Link and Twilight. “Mostly. If he’s too weak to move, we’ll still need to do it for him.”
Link could hardly put anything together. But one sentence suddenly burned in his mind, registering and making him try to bolt into a seated position. His body refused to obey, and he barely had curled into his abdomen before his head flopped back on Twilight’s lap with a grunt.
“Easy, Sky,” Twilight soothed gently, pulling Link onto his lap completely with strong grips under his arms. Link settled his head against the elder’s shoulder, gasping for air at the exertion. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of you.”
“T-Traveler…” Link managed to scrape out, his heart racing.
Hyrule shuffled closer, sitting on whatever object Link had just been lying on earlier. He reached a shaking hand out to the Skyloftian, squeezing his upper arm. “I’m here, Sky. You’re okay.”
His grip felt so incredibly weak, even to Link’s addled mind. He felt his stomach drop.
He’d made it worse. Somehow, he’d made it worse. Hyrule had almost died because of him.
“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, his eyes stinging with tears, his mind berating himself over and over and over.
“Sorry?” Hyrule repeated, confused. “Sorry for what?”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Twilight reassured him, his gentle voice relaxing Link’s body, even if his mind continued to whirl.
“Sky, we’re just happy you’re alive,” Four said quickly. “Please don’t—don’t try to do anything. Just stay here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“N-no,” Link protested weakly. “I—I need—I—it’s my—I can’t—”
His entire world shifted as Twilight lifted him into his arms and stood. “Shh, it’s okay, Sky. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”
Despite his complete exhaustion, Link almost wanted to snap. He wasn’t a child, damn it. He had to tell them, he had to make them realize it was best to leave him here, he could recover on his own and then he could hunt—
Wait.
“Shadow?” he asked quietly.
“He escaped, as he always does,” Time said from somewhere to Twilight’s right. “He’s a coward.”
“Yeah, but the Old Man left him with a pretty good parting gift!” Wind piped in. “Arrow to the chest! And Champion got one in his eye too!”
Link wilted in Twilight’s arms. The Shadow was still alive, and he hadn’t even been able to land any meaningful hits on him. The others had to come rescue him. The others, who bore the brunt of his own stupidity and weakness, and who continued to do so.
He was too tired for this. Too weak to hold back his brittle mind and body’s reaction. Too spent to care that he was suddenly weeping.
It just wasn’t fair. Why did they have to suffer for him? Why couldn’t he get this right?! How did he just keep compounding upon his failure?!
“Sky, what’s wrong? It’s okay, we’re all okay, the Shadow didn’t get anyone except for you.” Wild hastily said as Twilight hesitated in lowering him, instead opting to sway back and forth calmingly.
He felt someone card their hand through his hair and wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay, Sky. Everyone’s safe, and so are you.”
Warriors’ words were both a blessing and a curse. Link was eternally grateful everyone was fine, but this just wasn’t right.
“I—I s-should’ve—should’ve—”
“Link.”
He snapped out his stuttering, surprised at hearing his own name for the first time in ages. He had long since stopped viewing himself as part of the group, but he’d been remiss to throw his name out for the world to hear when he’d realized he was in Twilight’s Hyrule.
“No one is expecting you to eliminate the Shadow by yourself,” Time said firmly. “We wouldn’t all be here if that was the case. Whatever has convinced you to think you should handle this alone, it’s wrong.”
The room suddenly exploded into sound, cutting off whatever argument Link might have had.
“Wait, you wanted to take on the Shadow alone?!”
“Sky, are you insane, I thought you were one of the smarter ones in our group, what the actual hell—”
“The goddesses wouldn’t bring us all together if we could take the Shadow by ourselves!”
“You could have gotten yourself killed, Sky, what were you thinking?”
“Enough,” Time interrupted the group. “Let him rest.”
Link felt himself being lowered onto the bed, and the blankets were tucked all the way to his chin. He saw the group surrounding the bed worriedly, some looking more annoyed than others, some looking scared, and some hurt and bewildered.
Link sniffled helplessly.
Wind immediately jumped into the bed, kicking off his shoes and snuggling in beside him. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Everyone agreed with words that Link didn’t bother to discern, and he felt Wind tuck himself neatly in between his right side and arm, resting his head on his shoulder. Link suddenly felt sore, but he didn’t protest.
“Aryll loves cuddling when she’s scared or hurting or doesn’t feel good,” Wind whispered with a smile. “I figured you didn’t want to be alone.”
Link couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. He bit back another apology in lieu of letting the sailor have a chance to help, and he closed his eyes, resting his cheek on Wind’s forehead and closing his eyes.
The world grew warm and heavy. Exhaustion pulled at him, allowing him to settle back into sleep, but just before its gentle embrace could take him, his mind jolted back to—
Bleeding. He was bleeding so much. A bone deep exhaustion dragged his mind away, but he clung desperately. This was a different kind of tired, a far too permanent sleep beckoning him.
“S-Shadow…”
He had to know. He had to be sure.
“He’s gone,” Time said. “He’s gone.”
He… he did it?
He did it. They were safe. They were safe.
He felt tears sting in his eyes, his heart fluttering. His mission was… over.
He’d finally eliminated Demise.
He laughed, he laughed in relief. His brothers would no longer be haunted by that demon. He couldn’t eliminate the wounds of the past, but he could prevent any in the future.
“What were you thinking?” he heard Time whisper.
It didn’t matter now, whether they knew or not. But he still… he still felt obligated to say it. “M-making… amends…”
He could never truly make up for everything. But at least now he could…
He could rest. Goddess, he could rest.
I’m sorry Zelda, he thought. He apologized to her over and over, to Groose and to all his friends on Skyloft.
He knew. In his heart, he knew.
This was his last mission.
“I’m… sorry,” he said aloud before directing the apology at those around him. Because he knew he was leaving them too, and he knew he would never get a chance to truly apologize for all the harm he’d caused. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry…
The darkness pulled, and he drowned in it.
Link’s eyes snapped open. He’d—goddess, he’d—how—
Hyrule. He—he must have—
“Why?” he asked quietly, his voice little more than a whine.
“Hm…?” Wind perked up, already groggy, but his eyes were sharp as he looked at Link. “What’s wrong?”
Link couldn’t let this out on their youngest. But he couldn’t stop his raw emotions either, and before he knew it he was crying again. “Why?”
Wind watched him, eyes suddenly far older than they had any right to be. The boy held a gentleness and understanding to him, a sympathy and sorrow that intermingled, and he leaned down to hold him tightly.
“Because we love you, Sky.”
Sky fell apart completely, sobbing in his brother’s shirt.
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marypsue ¡ 5 days ago
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Man, it's cool and all if you see a metaphor for marginalisation in the monstrous, and if you want the power fantasy of 'what if you could just eat anybody who threatened you/pissed you off'. Me too.
However, as soon as you start saying 'no, these monsters are a 1:1 on Specific Marginalised Group, and you have to treat them in the fiction like they are directly representative of real human members of the marginalised group', BUT you also, in the fiction, make them hurt/kill/eat humans? And then try to shame me, your audience, for noticing or engaging with the bit where they kill people, because you made them directly representative of a real-world marginalised group? You have lost me, and also, I think, the plot.
#hear yourself. for the love of whatever you cherish.#'but they only kill bigots so ACTUALLY they're the GOOD GUYS -' your metaphor of monstrosity is entirely premised on the question of#'what if what you went around righteously killing; believing your actions to be justified;#were actually people and it was not in fact righteous or justified to just kill them'#'what if the world isn't neatly split into 'good guys' and 'bad guys'#who gets to decide who or what is 'bad'? because that's the original problem of monstrosity-as-metaphor-for-marginalisation#(if as a creator you say 'oh my intention with this was X' cool!#if instead you go with something like. well.#'well in this setting monsters are so rare it doesn't matter that they kill people and you'd have to be a homicidal sadistic psychopath >#< to hunt them; but sure I guess if you want to play a Bad Person' well I might have#but if you're going to explicitly judge me for wanting to engage with the moral question of 'how justified is this and who would do it#versus how justified are these monsters if they do have to harm or kill people to continue to exist'#then maybe I just don't want to play your game at all)#anyway I'm sick to death of poor uwu cozy vampires who are SO marginalised so I'm not Allowed to care about all the people they murder#it being fucked up is what's fun about it! do all the other shit but let me take the murders seriously!#and inb4 someone accuses me of being a bigot for saying 'actually I don't think you get a free pass to kill and eat people if you're gay'#remember when the CW's famously reactionary and conservative Supernatural tried to just gloss over the part where every time its heroes >#< killed a demon with a magic knife it also killed the person the demon was possessing#and say 'oh no it's fine we don't care about those killings; they don't matter; don't bother caring about them either'#but they were doing it to glorify exactly the kind of people that these 'monster as metaphor' stories are trying to cast as expendable?#I have other examples that are like. real dramas. but That Paranormal Show is the one that's in the same niche that I'm talking about here#it feels more insidious when it comes through a fantasy show where there are monsters involved#so you can say 'no it's not real so it doesn't matter'#but then ALL of it is equally not real. and vampires are not actually an oppressed group. because they don't exist.#you can say 'these vampires are a metaphor for an oppressed group so this fiction matters in real life'#or you can say 'don't care about the murders because they weren't actually real'#but you can't say both and then get mad at ME for treating the murders as seriously as the vampires#let me engage with your premise and don't waste my fucking time#or just set your fluff in the Sesame Street universe where vampires drink cherry Kool-Aid and help kids learn to count
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makiswirl ¡ 9 months ago
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even more jojo doods from the past few days :]
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keikakudom ¡ 8 months ago
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i am not above objectifying my own design to get past creative blocks
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bluuscreen ¡ 5 months ago
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gonna tell my future niece/nephew that this was the shape of water
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mishy-mashy ¡ 9 months ago
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Bruce is actually really attractive, and I have enough reasoning to make a list
He's:
Tall (. Tall enough to hit his head on the vault doorframe)
Long-legged
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Has a straight nose bridge
Has high cheekbones (more noticeable in 2nd pic below)
Has a strong jawline
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Sharp eyes, but they aren't small (plus eyebags if you're into that)
Overall, he has strong, attractive facial features
Has broad, refined shoulders. You can tell he works out (or he did, when he was alive)
Even has a thick, muscly neck
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He has MUSCLE. Is SCULPTED. NOICE. VERY NOICE. (nice arms. Nice shoulders. Nice neck. Nice legs. Nice butt-)
(There are actually panels where you can see some of his muscles. Other than those already shown here, he's got bricky thighs-
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-and in the panels where we first get his name dropped, he's got those shoulder blades too-)
The one time we see him smile, and he actually has a scary one
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Has small, kinda sharp pupils, and his eyes remind me of a cat. We only ever saw him tense or defensive, so his resting/listening face is really cute
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Other than the physical appearance stuff, he also:
Takes shit without batting an eye (patience, knowing it's just how Kudo is, etc)
Kudo being all "Cut the crap Bruce and give it to me straight", after Bruce tests his blood and is rightfully Concerned because they just faced AFO
Put up with Kudo's experimenting and testing over Yoichi's transferable Factor
Did ya'll see the look on Kudo's face when he realized he had Yoichi's Factor/will? Kudo was going to start in nonsense and Bruce just dealt with that.
Also something I noticed when looking back at the images here; Bruce has bandages on his arms in the void. But not when he faced AFO in the sewers.
Were he and Kudo cutting their arms open in their experimenting over Yoichi's theory? Is this why Kudo has two gauntlets instead of his one? Why we never see his bare arms in the void? That he always keeps his arms down so there's no slip?
Is smart enough to run blood tests, plus has enough common sense to pick Shinomori as his successor
He picked a guy who avoids society, has an Ability to detect danger so he can always stay away from AFO, is also a coward so he's never going to go throw himself into danger, even without knowing instinctively he stands no chance, etc.
Meanwhile, Kudo chose Bruce, who he played Hot Potato Yoichi with; but he did also trust Bruce, and put the only pure combative Ability in OFA through Bruce.
These two made their choices based on what they valued and saw the Factor needed.
Is logical, analytical, and calm.
He tried advising Midoriya on their Abilities in One For All, especially his own.
Midoriya then tried ignoring him about using Fa Jin for the first time, but found he was right, thinking: "Dammit!! I had [Lady Nagant] right where I wanted her, but... ugh! The Third was right. My parallel Quirk processes are all screwed up!" (ch. 314).
Plus, when Midoriya fixed his processing mistakes, Bruce was analyzing the way he reached his new conclusion. Pure facts, no bias, very calm, just saying it as it was.
We never see him panic. When he's caught by surprise in the sewers by AFO, Kudo, and Yoichi's little bubble event, he immediately reacts. He doesn't falter, he just knows he has to do something right now.
Was more willing to listen than Kudo to Yoichi's beckon, and probably was just following Kudo's rejection of Midoriya
While we don't see Kudo's face, we see Bruce's eyes when Yoichi calls on his heroes. Bruce was more open and receptive, or at least more impacted.
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Bruce was also the one to start talking, while Kudo just kept quiet.
He actually communicates a lot
When Yoichi called them to support Midoriya, Bruce started talking to paint a picture of why they thought the way they did, so Yoichi understood where they were coming from.
(Though he seems to beat about the bush sometimes, since Kudo spoke up to be direct on how they couldn't just put their trust in some starry-eyed teenager. Plus, when Kudo tells him to just tell him what's wrong [double Factors])
When Midoriya first used Fa Jin against Nagant, Bruce came out just to tell him he knew what he was trying, but that Midoriya wasn't ready; and Midoriya found he was right. Midoriya just didn't want to listen to him then.
He asks Kudo for clarification after finding Kudo had two Factors in him after the sewer incident ("Just to be sure, All For One didn't touch you, right?") Kudo knew him well enough to go "stop beating around the bush and tell me", so Bruce was probably gonna start with questions, theories, and trying to understand everything in general, before saying "yeah you have two Factors. Don't know why".
Is strong-willed and loyal.
He followed Kudo, even to death, carrying on the cause he started until it ended with him.
Plus, when talking about how AFO needs a strong will to override OFA's own, we first see Bruce, Kudo, and Yoichi.
AFO couldn't steal OFA because the will was too strong for him, and that was back during Banjo's time. Since Shinomori never actually tried opposing AFO and just hid, we can assume the first Three (Yoichi, Kudo, Bruce) already had an accumulation of strong willpower that made OFA un-stealable. Those three are a strong enough foundation, and the main wills, that the other users just become bonuses.
Kudo, also saying that Midoriya needs allies with the same will and drive as him... hey Kudo, you're talking about yourself and your old allies, aren't you? That's why you look at Yoichi and Bruce when you say this.
Not only is Bruce attractive, but he's got good character. THE END.
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b4kuch1n ¡ 1 year ago
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glorioso from last years twitterin
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kane-turu ¡ 11 months ago
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puppyeared ¡ 5 months ago
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learning abt friendship decay and "not reaching out to your friends for months at a time unprompted is not neurotypical behaviour" has me feeling a certain way
#experiencing some BIG FEELINGS OVER THIS REVELATION#listen i have never ever been bothered abt not seeing someone in a while or making time to talk to them bc in my mind its like not thst muc#time has passed. i mean it with every fibre of my being that when im like 'oh its ok even though we havent talked in a while and have our#own things going on it doesnt mean we're not friends anymore since we left things on a good note 8 months ago' i sincerely believe that#and for the longest time i just thought everybody makes peace with it at some point and not automatically assuming the other person doesnt#wanna talk to me anymore or smth. my longest lasting friendships are with ppl who work the same way i just thouhght that was normal#whatever organ everybody has that makes them reach out to their friends and plan hang outs i probably dont have it#i was already hesitant to ask out Alex bc i spend almost every waking hour doing smth that isnt talking to ppl unless they happen to be in#the vicinity. and at first it was bc i planned on making sure i had everything set up so i dont get stressed out and do it one at a time#but then i find out theres a friendship decay mechanic? and after dating and marrying someone you lose -10 friendship points for every#day u dont talk to them?? actually ive probably been losing friendship points this whole time without knowing bc of this?????#and i notice a lot of my own habits are also reflected in how i play bc ive been avoiding getting close to pierre and marnie since its more#of a professional relationship. like i know theyre npcs but im approaching it the way i would in real life its fucking nuts#i think its a little relieving im playing /as/ a character than myself bc as im playing im just making up little interactions in my head#than approaching things the way i would myself so it takes a bit of the stress off trying to put myself in there as a spectator. but well#being in a relationship demands a certain amount of energy even more so when theyre things that already take up energy on its own#like making time to talk to your partner and make sure they know theyre loved. i dont always have energy to put all my mental focus into it#and this is true for real life so im not really bothered by not dating anyone. but when its a game and i want my character to be with someo#and i know its fully optional and i know i could just apply the same logic to this i dont /want/ to. sometimes i want to experience#the same things other people do at least to a certain degree without the same emotional andmental stakes#no offense krobus#yapping#stardew#stardew valley#puppy plays sdv#sdv#this game has me by the ankles man
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tackykachowch ¡ 11 days ago
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What's so funny about Jinx smelling Vander's jacket to me is not even that it's inconsistent with the story at this point (i. e. Vander is alive so there is no reason for her to smell his jacket, plus she didn't have a close relationship with him anyway), but because we already had a coat for her to interact with that was established IN SEASON 1 FINALE. SHE TOOK SILCO'S COAT OFF OF HIM. WHERE DID IT GO????? And most importantly why Jinx doesn't care about it at all despite her still coming to his office to "talk" with him? Like. You would think that Jinx, who still keeps keepsakes of her lost loved ones, would take some of Silco's things to remind her of him, but nah. We need a stupid thing with Vander and Silco's jackets where she doesn't even properly interact with the right one.
#also it's a personal pet peeve of mine that they should've given Jinx his cravat. because it represents his trauma (being strangled by a-#close person) and how he's coping with it this way. showing that nobody can do this to him again. but then Jinx kills him and. yeah#albeit unintentionally but it's just a throughline with Silco that he always suffers the most at the hands of the people he loves the most#so if jinx took it it would both serve as a keepsake and a reminder of what he's gone through and that despite thas he never gave up#and that she must keep fighting as well. no matter for who of what. the main thing she should always remember is to fight and survive no#matter how badly you were hurt or by whom. your goals your love and who you are at your core shouldn't change no matter what#keep going. keep fighting. keep being yourself my dear daughter because you are perfect#and yeah his coat should've been implemented in her design too you can't imagine how pissed off i was when i saw her costume and blimp at#the end of s2. yeah yeah screw me specifically i guess whatever#arcane critical#arcane season 2#arcane#silco arcane#silco#jinx arcane#silco and jinx#upd: oh yeah i forgot. taking his cravat from him would also mean that despite his efforts to nevel let his affections for others hurt him-#he still couldn't control this because. well. you can't really choose how much you love someone and trust someone. it just happens#it would add so much sauce and flavor to his tragedy#guuyyyys i'm insane about themmmm
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kami-kun1003 ¡ 1 year ago
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TWST fic writers stop reducing Silver’s entire personality to just “sleepy boy who falls asleep all the time and is sooooo sleepy and tired and did i mention he sleeps a lot and also he loves his dad” challenge (impossible) (gone wrong)
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hanzajesthanza ¡ 16 days ago
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dandelion’s incredible reluctance, and near-fright, to mention kaer morhen by name is somewhat endearing to me. we as the fandom throw around the name so easily, and it’s also home for geralt and ciri, so its name doesn’t carry so much weight.
but in dandelion’s case, it makes sense to fear mentioning it, for it was the site of the massacre… best to not let anyone hear its name… it’s kind of nice to think that dandelion has a degree of self-awareness, when something is as important as this
and also, some part of me just thinks that dandelion with his vivid imagination listened to geralt offhandedly talk about his childhood here or there, and… whatever were mundane facts or sepia-tinted friendly memories for geralt, made dandelion’s expression drop and his innards twist. so he conceives of kaer morhen not just as “the witcher’s keep in the mountains of kaedwen” but “that place where my best friend endured child abuse for eighteen years”
#like… i imagine dandelion has a dysfunctional family relationship too to put it lightly#but as far as the subjected mutations and trials and intense physical training#idk why i think i’m just projecting but#listening to your friend talk about his abusive childhood like ‘oh yeah and then we fell asleep to the ache of our muscles [nostalgic sigh]’#the pain of loving your friend a lot and realizing just how much hell they’ve been through#geralt recalling some memories to dandelion and then all of a sudden#‘dandelion? what’s the matter with you? hell you look as though you’re about to be sick’#dandelion like… 😨#dandelion wanting badly to take on geralt’s pain ✌️ well we got there by time of contempt and baptism of fire#this was brought up for me again when preston holt and geralt were talking in crossroads of ravens#where holt is like: ‘i bet your earliest memory is…’ and geralt is like ‘there was this boy…’ and holt is like ‘yeup’#and though they acknowledge it’s fucked up neither of them are as horrified as they probably should be 💀 because it’s known and familiar#this is also why dandelion is horrified by his suicidal inclinations#yennefer shares them so she is more like ‘ok well don’t do it on the carpet’#this is ciri aka chickened out of suicide attempt and her two parents aka failed suicide attempt and daily suicidal ideations#now i’m not saying dandelion would never kill himself but i mean not during the saga. after half a century is published he could do whatever#the elbow-high diaries#i think the whole ‘recluse from society in an isolated monastery’ thing is already abuse in dandelion’s eyes#the fact that the food is plain = abuse to dandelion lbr
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deoidesign ¡ 5 months ago
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Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.
Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!
Hi there!
Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!
It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!
I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha
I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then
I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...
The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.
It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.
Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.
I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.
I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.
#asks#steakandpeanutbuttersandwiches#I'm SO sorry youre new and you asked me such a benign question and I responded with... this... LMAO#I swear to god I tried to make it as short as possible#theres just a lot auauuaghkhgjk#basically. way too much work. not enough money.#so it either is gonna be good and take longer or be worse but come back faster#and I chose to take longer#so.#I'm really sorry and I wish that this decision didn't also come with the... pretty much guarantee that it will negatively impact my career.#I will lose readers. I will lose potential readers for my future work. it looks bad on me as a creator to take such a big break. etc. etc.#but it's good. it's so good. you have to trust me it's like the best stuff Ive ever written#it. ok well to be honest#it'll probably feel extremely simple and extremely natural#but it's been SO much work LMAO#I am not exaggerating I have written over 200 pages of scapped ideas to get to where it is#I'm sure it won't make sense why it took so long while reading but you gotta trust me LMAO#ideally it doesnt even 'feel' different right. cause its gotta be cohesive with the whole thing#but there is SO MUCH TO WRAP UP#THERES SO MUCH#and to make that feel natural in this little space oh my GOD it is so hard#ok omfg I'm doing it again I'm going on way too long again IM SO SORRY#YOURE NEW HERE AND IM DOING THIS IMMEDIATELy#this is like 90% for my followers who I know are curious about this and I'm just using you as a jumping off point to talk about it#cause I don't really like to make standalone posts very often#I likely will make some kind of official announcement about it when the date is extremely set in stone#right now I think it's still only tentatively scheduled so it could still change#and I'll say something more... refined and restrained... then.#but for now this is like. actually everything. I think#I'm sure I forgot something but whatever lmfao
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rainbowsandwhumperflies ¡ 18 days ago
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The Winged Servant - 14
content warnings: unhealthy ideas about food (I'll put a more detailed warning about this in the comments but I don't want to spoil stuff here), brief discussion of religion, mention of death, begging
prev chapter | masterlist
“Here you go, bud.”
I stared at the plate in front of me. It was ceramic. Less detailed than what we’d had at the house, but breakable all the same. I would have to be careful, then, but I knew how to do that. The crepe itself was a different story.
“Thank you, sir,” I said anyway, beginning to scissor a piece off with my fork. Crepes were meant to be eaten with hands, I remembered, but that wasn’t how a servant was supposed to act. Not in front of other people. Really, servants weren’t supposed to eat at all in front of other people if it could be helped, but exceptions could be made when food was handed right to me.
Kieran sat down on my left, a bowl of fruit in front of him. There was mango in it. There was mango in my crepe, too, if Kieran had really put everything he’d said he would. Prince Ryan didn’t let me eat mangos when he could help it. They made my cheeks red, my lips puffy, and my throat itch, but they weren’t so bad that I could refuse them. Not by a long shot. I’d have to eat egregious amounts before I was in any real danger, so I took a small bite of the crepe.
That was- shit, that was good. It wasn’t the strawberry jam that I was used to, but the combination of flavors more than made up for it. The mangoes that I was not supposed to eat practically melted on my tongue. Or maybe it just felt that way because of the gnawing feeling in my stomach, because of the tiny portion of dinner I’d received the night before.
“I’m assuming you don’t know much about who I am,” Kieran said from his spot next to me, reminding me that he was there. I dragged my fork back and forth as I swallowed.
“His Highness Prince Ryan talked about you last night. When we were on our way to your room.”
“Yeah? What did he tell you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I shrugged. “He said that he is more fit to run a country than you, sir. He is more fit to run a country than most people.”
“Because of his qualifications?”
“Because the Rao family has held the crown for sixteen generations. Sir. That is all the qualification they need.”
“I don’t think-” He hesitated. “Okay. Let’s take this in a new direction, actually. What’s the point of having royalty?”
The point? What was the fucking point? Did it matter? I was a servant. I wasn’t supposed to understand things like this. The point of having a ruler was for them to rule. And that’s what the Rao family did, which meant that they could not have been unfit for it.
“Um,” I said slowly. “The point of having royalty is to make things easier for people who aren’t royalty, right, sir? Like… they make decisions about important things that other people don’t understand. They protect their subjects.”
“Yes,” he agreed, and I sighed in relief, cutting another bite of my crepe off with the dull edge of my fork. It would take longer this way than with a knife or my teeth. It would give him a longer time to have this conversation in an environment where eye contact was not expected. I wondered if he’d noticed me staring at the tablecloth while he’d asked me questions with Blue. I would have to be less obvious next time.
“Yes,” he repeated, “they are supposed to make things easier. And if every citizen gets together and decides that the royalty is making things harder, why shouldn’t they pick new royalty?”
“Because that would make them traitors, sir.” That was an easier question. I knew the answer just fine for that. I took another bite of my crepe.
“Not if they succeed. If they manage to overthrow the previous royals, and put new ones in and adjust the laws, it’s no longer treason.”
“Treason is illegal whether or not you’re punished for it, sir,” I said, covering my mouth while I chewed. It had been a long time since I had eaten in front of anyone except Jayden, but I couldn’t let my manners slip now. “Even if you’re the only one who knows about it, you aren’t supposed to think treasonous things.”
“Hm.” I did not turn my head to look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me. These were different questions than he’d asked with Blue. Those had been about me. These were… philosophical, maybe, or a test of some kind. “I am the current king of Sathenn. DId you know that?”
I stared at the table. I was supposed to behave. Prince Ryan had told me to behave. But Kieran was wrong.
“Do you have an objection to that?” he asked.
I stared intently at the crepe. “... No, sir.”
“Right. You’re supposed to listen to people. I keep forgetting, sorry. If a… a well-meaning subject who was loyal to the crown had an objection… what would that objection sound like?”
“Um. Well. Sir. The royal family has the divine right to their power.”
“Divine right?” he repeated, and he almost sounded like he was holding in a laugh.
“It’s, um, a theory from hundreds of years ago, sir. Monarchies are passed through families because their bloodlines are superior.”
“I’m familiar with the concept. The most recently I’d heard, the Raos aren’t religious, though, so I’m surprised that they taught it to you. The word divine in that phrase implies that their right to rule was given to them by some sort of god.”
I frowned. I supposed that technically, Kieran was right. I hadn’t thought about that before—or rather, I hadn’t been told. I wasn’t supposed to think through it the way he was doing, I was just supposed to listen to what I was told.
“It’s not about a god, sir,” I said eventually. “Divinity is not just from religion. The first Rao royal brought back the stars. They are the reason any of the kingdoms are able to exist at all.”
“Brought back the stars, yes, because they were one of the most brilliant scientists we’ve ever seen. But there are plenty of brilliant scientists we haven’t seen.” He took another bite of his fruit, giving me a few moments to wonder what the hell he meant before he continued.
“I used to know a person who was accepted to college at the age of fourteen, but xe died before xe could graduate because Lucia had xem killed. Xe could have been brilliant, too, if xe’d been given a chance to become that. Instead of giving xem that chance, Lucia nipped it in the bud. The first Rao may have brought back the stars, but fast forward a couple centuries, and Lucia was pulling shit like making it illegal for angels to fly at playgrounds without something attaching them to the ground. When the royalty does not serve the subjects, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with starting over.”
I swallowed another bite. My tongue was starting to feel awkward in my mouth. That was fine. It would swell a bit and probably get itchy, but it would not put me in actual danger, so it was fine. It wasn’t lethal. It didn’t even affect my breathing. It was fine.
I did not see the issue with what Kieran had clearly listed as a failing of the queen. She knew better than I did what was safe at a playground. She knew better than any subjects what was safe at a playground. That was the problem with subjects deciding that their country was in need of new royalty. If the Raos truly had been unfit to rule, that was up to the Raos to decide. Not the subjects.
“It’s not technically illegal to be loyal to them,” Kieran said when I didn’t respond. “Legally, you are free to have that opinion, as long as you don't try harassing people who don’t or something. But it’s ignorant at best to pretend that they did not hurt people while they ruled.”
“Their job isn’t to help people or hurt people, sir. It’s to rule, and to make decisions that no one else does. That’s what they did.”
“I guess.” He shrugged, taking a bite of his fruit. “They could’ve ruled much better than they did, though.”
I did not look at him as I mumbled, “Yes, sir.” He started staring at my face anyway.
“Is your… mouth swelling, Onyx?”
“Yes, sir. As is the usual result of me eating mangos.”
He grabbed my hand on its way to lift my fork to my mouth. “Please tell me you’re not allergic to mangos.”
I blinked like a deer caught in headlights, glancing between my crepe and Kieran’s face. “I’m… not… allergic? Sir?”
“Please tell me the honest truth about whether or not you’re allergic to mangos,” he amended, and I nodded. His mouth set in a tight line. “I asked you if you had dietary restrictions. Why didn’t you say anything?”
How was I supposed to know this is what he’d meant? “My apologies, sir. I thought… um, my mango allergy is included in the list of foods that the royal family did not allow me to have. I was under the impression that you did not care to know what they did not give me.”
“Well, yeah, but-” He released my hand, running his own hands through his braids and tugging on the ends. “I mean, I asked if there were foods you couldn’t eat. You said you could eat whatever I saw fit.”
“And if you saw fit to give me food I was allergic to, sir, I could eat it. I am grateful for any food I receive.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he hissed.
My eyes traced the grain in the table to avoid looking at him. “My apologies, sir. I did not mean to misinterpret your command.” Would Kieran punish me? Was he allowed to, out in public, in the middle of the day? Prince Ryan wouldn’t have tolerated it. Prince Ryan was in jail at Kieran’s order.
“How allergic are you? Are you risking your breathing ability when you eat mangos? Are- are you risking your life?”
“No, sir. I’m only mildly allergic. Previously, it hasn’t resulted in any more than mild swelling and itching.”
“I don’t have angel medicine,” he said through gritted teeth.
I was frustrating him, I knew, but I didn’t know how to respond to his questions. I knew how to respond to things Prince Cardan said, or Prince Ryan, or Her Majesty, but I did not know Kieran. I did not know what he wanted from me.
“My apologies, sir,” I said again. He shook his head sharply.
“It’s fine! It’s fine. I’m glad that your allergy isn’t worse than it is.”
His shoulders were tense, and when I glanced at him, he was glaring at the table too. It was not fine. I had messed up, and I hadn’t even said all the things I was supposed to say. “My sincerest apologies for not informing you of the allergy when you wanted me to, sir. It won’t happen again, and I would be grateful if you would punish me to help me remember.”
Kieran turned his glare toward me. I flinched back. How had I forgotten already how disapproving he had been when hearing about my punishments? Of course this was not what he wanted me to say. What was I supposed to say? I could fix this. I could still fix this, couldn’t I?
He started talking before I could, reaching out and taking my plate.
“I am,” he said, and his voice broke, so he cleared his throat and started over. “I’m going to take this back to the kitchen. Stay here until I return, please.”
I stared at him in horror as he stood up with the crepe. The royal family did not permit me to beg, didn’t permit me to want things enough to beg, but this was not the royal family. And it wasn’t want that I felt as he took my plate—it was plain old hunger. I had slept for maybe four hours the night before. I had been tired and hungry before, but the royal family was careful. Prince Ryan paid attention to my body’s limits. If I continued to be deprived of both sleep and food, I would collapse soon, and then I wouldn’t be useful to anyone at all.
“Please,” I blurted out when Kieran began to walk away. “Please, I- my apologies, sir, but I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful. I can eat it.”
“Onyx, I’m not going to force you to eat something you’re allergic to.”
“But you could, sir,” I insisted. My heart was racing, and I knew my words were too fast, not making sense, but I needed the crepe back. “You wouldn’t even have to force me. I appreciate you going out of your way to have breakfast made for me, and the mango really isn’t that bad, and-”
“Onyx.”
“Please, sir,” I repeated, trying not to cry. Her Majesty hated when I did that, when I tried to make other people feel guilty about my own body’s failings, but I couldn’t quite get rid of the pinch behind my eyes. It worsened and twisted until it turned into a familiar wetness building up behind my eyes. I couldn’t cry now, not if I wanted to convince him I deserved the crepe. “Please. I didn’t even eat half of it. I’m so hungry.”
Kieran stared at me for a long moment, eventually bringing his free hand to rest on my shoulder. I held as still as I could. It was okay if he punished me. I had broken so many rules in the past few hours, he had every right to correct me, but all he did was gently squeeze my shoulder.
“You’re going to eat breakfast,” he told me softly. “I am taking your crepe back to the kitchen, and I’m having them make a different one without mango for you. Okay? I’m sorry that I wasn’t clear about that. I’m not going to punish you, and I’m not going to starve you. I know I seem frustrated right now. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”
A different one, he said. Without mango. For me.
He’d just apologized to me while he explained that he was making me a personalized breakfast. People weren’t supposed to apologize to me. People weren’t supposed to give things to me.
I stared up at him. I remembered what he had said about how royalty is supposed to help subjects, about how he was the king.
“Thank you, sir,” I whispered.
He nodded, and then he turned around and briskly walked back toward the kitchen.
~
taglist: @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts @toyybox @rainydaywhump @risk606 @jay--o
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demonir ¡ 2 months ago
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Realistically I think Crowley would just demonic miracle the makeup on her face but I like to imagine her sitting in front of the mirror and doing it by hand with tons of fancy makeup stuff <- guy who has no idea abt makeup stuff but does his makeup anyway
And btw yes, she’s wearing a corset
My best friend kinda begged me to post this bc I’m heavily unsatisfied with it and almost vanished it to the shadow realm forever, I hope you guys like it more than I do.
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