#rrau warriors

[milkyplier]

I,, don’t really have a reason to hold this back and I’m too impatient to do it just in case so here’s another Rescue Ranch AU snippet

@skyloftian-nutcase it isn’t much but here, maybe it will help ease your misery :’) also @telemna-hyelle you wanted to know who I killed? Well, read on and find out :)

TW: Mentions of death/war, general trauma :’)

Numb.

That is the only word to describe what Warriors feels as he rides through the village he once called home. It’s now little more than debris and ashes, shrouded the burned and collapsing shells of houses and stores. He wants to urge Royal into a gallop, and get to his house as fast as possible, but he knows that won’t do. Royal is unafraid as he picks his way carefully through the wreckage. He’s served to faithfully, Warriors can’t bring himself to make the horse sacrifice care for speed. He might get hurt. That, and a part of Warriors knows his family is dead. Granny and his half siblings, Wind and Aryll…he knows they can’t have made it through whatever hell befell their home. He won’t be satisfied until he knows for sure, until he sees their house and…and them…and that’s why he doesn’t urge Royal faster. The longer he stays away, the longer he can hold onto the shred of false hope that says they could still be alive.

It’s foolish hope. And he knows he must squash it, because he has to know. Give them a proper burial, if he can. Honor them in whatever way he can manage, after failing them so badly.

The small seaside house comes into view and sure enough—it matches all the others. Half-destroyed, still smoking, a little. Warriors dismounts Royal, and somehow his legs hold him up. Heavy, mindless steps carry him towards the wreckage. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Behind him, Royal whinnies. Warriors spins around to face him—that whinny means someone is there and usually “someone” is a monster. Royal is standing there, ears and eyes open off Warriors’ left. He sees a flash of bright yellow and sea blue out of the corner of his eye and his gaze snaps towards it.

Wind, his little half-brother, stands frozen a few yards away. He must have been standing behind the far side of the house. That wall was mostly intact, which explains why Warriors didn’t see him.

They stand there for a solid six seconds, just staring at each other. Warriors doesn’t dare move. What if this is a dream, or a hallucination, and moving breaks it. He’s stuck in time. His breath is stolen from his lungs.

Wind takes a step forward, and then his second step launches him into a sprint and he barrels towards Warriors with more speed than an angry lizalfos. Warriors is unable to do more than fall to his knees and catch Wind in his arms, wrapping his little brother in a hug so tight his arms ache. He is unable to stop the tears from falling, especially when he hears Wind start to sob. He knows he’s supposed to be strong for him, but Wind will just have to forgive him for it later because in that moment Warriors has no strength for anything else.

They eventually run out of tears, and just sit there on the ground in some degree of shock. The silence carries unspoken terror, of everything they’ve seen, and the only freshly broken grief that they were alone.

“I thought you were dead,” Wind whispers after a long time.

A dozen replies drift through Warriors’ head. “I thought you were too.” “But I’m not. I came back for you.” “I feel dead.” But when he opens his mouth to say something, no words come out. He settled for squeezing Wind even tighter.

“…Grandma and Aryll didn’t make it.”

Ice replaces the blood in Warriors’ body. Did he watch it happen? Hylia, please say he didn’t have to watch.

“I just finished burying them.”

Goddesses. He’s only 14. Why? Why?

Yet more tears blur his vision, and he presses his face into Wind’s shock of yellow hair.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The words become too wracked with sobs to distinguish them. Wind is silent the entire time. Warriors is ashamed of the way it seems more like Wind is comforting him than the other way around, but four years of ignoring it all finally bubbles to the surface and he is helpless to stop it.

It feels like they stay that way for hours before Warriors finally, finally runs completely out of tears to cry. He allows himself a few minutes to collect himself, before giving Wind one last squeeze and rising unsteadily to his feet. Wind grabs his hand, and he grips it without the intention of ever letting it go.

“We’ll pay our respects to Grandma and Aryll.” He says. “And then we’re getting the hell out of here. They wouldn’t want us to stay.”

Wind nods, and the brothers make their way to the pair of graves on the far side of the house, facing the ocean. Warriors doesn’t remember his legs ever being this stiff and achey. Regardless, they spend another hour gathering wildflowers and seashells to decorate the graves with. The sun is setting by the time they find themselves standing in front of the duel mounds, staring down at the little messy bouquets and colorful shells. They’re both completely silent, shocked and numb and exhausted.

A chilly breeze directs Warriors’ gaze up to the sky.

“…Let’s go. It’s getting dark.”

Wind doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t resist when Warriors starts walking away from the graves and, still holding hands, gently pulls Wind with him.

They walk silently back to wear Royal still stands in front of the house, having moved only a few yards further in order to graze. Warriors decides it will be more comfortable for all parties if they ride bareback, and removes his old and worn military-issued saddle off Royal’s back, abandoning it on the ground a few feet away without a second glance. He mounts first, and then helps Wind up, settling his little brother in front of him. With a softy click of his tongue and a squeeze of his heels, Royal starts walking. Warriors turns him northeast, away from the sea.

They’ve only traveled a few yards when Wind lets out an ear splitting wail, laden with grief and sheer exhaustion. Warriors lets him, even though his instincts say noise will attract monsters. He lets Wind scream and cry until be can’t anymore, and he slumps against Warriors, fast asleep.

Warriors sighs gently through his nose, feeling his own anguish swirling in his chest, threatening to escape in a similar manner. He forces it all down, down, down as far as it will go, locking it there with a promise to keep Wind safe.

As long as Wind needs him to be his pillar, he will not shed another tear.

[milkyplier]

The very last sentence of the snippet is as follows:

“As long Wind needed him to be his pillar, he would not shed another tear.”

Which means, of course, there will be another moment when Wind does not need said pillar and there will be so many tears :)

You realize this, right?

*cackles*