#yes this is the live write that started the whole sneet thing

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Sit by the fire until... Chapter 2

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870150/chapters/81650737

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you when you get magically transformed into a bunny rabbit against your will by the corrupted darkness of the Sacred Realm: somethings, unfortunately, tend to stick.  

Now, Legend isn’t saying that he’s hiding a cotton tail under his tunic or that his soul secretly aches to frolic in meadows or spend his time sleeping in holes or whatever else it is that rabbits do when they're not busy being very confused and scared twelve year old Hylians.

No.

But that doesn't mean he was left unscathed by having his entire anatomy re-written in less than an instant.

Because of course he wouldn’t. Goddess forbid he ever catch a break for once in his life.

He was still pretty young when it happened, so Legend can’t remember if his teeth had been quite so bucked before the incident. Regardless if they were or not, they sure as Hylia are prominent now. Then there's also the fact that he never really grew into his ears, the damn things always just a shade longer than they should be for a regular Hylian.

Before he joined this wild cucco chase masquerading as an adventure, Legend would sometimes catch himself looking at Ravio wondering, Is that how I would have looked? Besides the hair and eyes, the merchant was supposed to be his mirror image after all. Zelda and Hilda were, so it stood to reason that he and Ravio should be the same.

In which case, the bucktooth thing was going to be a problem regardless.

The ears, on the other hand, are a completely different story. From the quick glances Legend has managed to steal of Ravio’s side profile, the merchant has relatively short ears himself, which just make the Veteran’s own look comically long when the two stand side by side.

And ugh, and that wasn't even touching on his… less physical changes.

 Namely, his cravings.

Noshing on some leafy greens while home alone doing some chores? A-Okay.

Getting caught by Warriors and Twilight absentmindedly chewing on the hay he was supposed to be feeding the horses? Ehhh, not so much.  

Goddesses, his ego still hasn’t recovered from the amount of jokes the Pretty Boy had made at his expense. And that’s not even mentioning the veritable mountain of carrots he found in his bedroll, no doubt courtesy of that flea bitten farmhand.

Regardless of the less than natural way he got these… attributes, Legend couldn’t say they were all bad. ‘Cuz sure, his ears were a bit longer than average, but he could also hear better than most of his companions, able to catch the sound of crunching leaves above even their loud bickering. Like wise, his eyes were sharper than others in the low light of dawn and dusk, allowing him to see things others would miss.

Frankly, both skills had helped keep him alive during his quests. He was thankful for them in a weird huh, guess that works kinda way, but thankful all the same.

But sometimes Legend wanted to wring the goddesses necks because really? Being turned into a rabbit couldn’t have fixed this particular problem?

This particular problem being his absolutely horrible pollen allergies.

“ A-A-A!”

Each rapid, involuntary inhale feels like a simultaneous punch to the gut and a gasp for breath, the air yanked into his body and then stoppered up. It leaves the veteran in a state of limbo as a paralyzing calm falls over him; lungs full of air, shoulders hiked up, muscles tensed.

For a second, everything feels lodged in place, frozen, like the Champion had used his stasis rune on him.

And–

Legend clamps his mouth shut and tucks his face into his elbow just as tension snaps and–

“- acheew! ”

Nothing but a soft, cut off sneeze slips past his lips, yet, the force of holding it back  still sends Legend bowing over. He stays there, hunched over for a breath as his body recovers, before he straightens back up, sniffing irritably as he tries to ignore the itch prickling at his eyes and the congested pressure throbbing behind his sinuses.

A chortling huff sounds next to him and when Legend glances down he can see Wolfie– or should he say, Twilight– peering up at him, mouth open and tongue lolling in a doggy grin, but icy blue eyes too pointed, too teasing, to be anything but human.

Legend's nose twitches tellingly as it begins to tickle again and the wolf gives another stuttering huff. A laugh. Legend can practically hear Twilight’s twangy, Awww. You sneeze like a bunny.

The bastard.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, dog boy,” Legend grumbles, wiping harshly at his face in an attempt to stave off another sneezing fit. “Don't you have trees to piss on or something?”

That earns him peeled back lips and a growl, but Legend just sends the other a responding sneer as strides past the grumpy wolf and out into the rolling field of tulips that stands in front of them.

Another huff, this one more annoyed than amused, sounds behind the veteran before the wolf streaks past him, loping through the flowers with his nose down and tail high.

Legend rolls his eyes.

Twilight loves to show his teeth, but the farmhand is quite literally all bark and no bite.

And besides, they both have better things to do than needle one another. If Legend is going to be miserable, he may as well take steps to make that misery as short as possible.

Afterall, they aren't out here swanning through a meadow of flowers for pleasure.

The last Dark Portal they had all walked through had, once again, separated them. Legend and Twilight were lucky enough to find one another quickly, though, now that Legend thinks about it, it probably had less to do with luck and more to do with Twilight’s nose.

After regrouping, they had tried to search for the others more that day, but a storm had them holed up in a cave overnight to wait out the deluge. They had gotten up early to start their search again today, but so far they had no such luck in finding any of the others in the forest.

Which just left the inexplicable meadow of tulips surrounding the wood.

Legend had been hoping that the rain would keep some of the pollen at bay, but nooo that would be too merciful, wouldn’t it?

If anything, the rain just made this whole experience more aggravating. Now, along with stinging eyes, a running nose, and a throbbing head, Legend also had the delightful honor of feeling the tulip stalks and leaves and petals sliding wetly across his skin, the annoying slap of his tunic smacking his thighs as it got more sodden by the second, and the disgusting squish of water between his toes with every step he took through this Wind Fish damned field.

And sure, maybe it was worth it to reunite with the other heroes, but really, would it kill the goddesses to make his life just a little bit easier.

A bark pulls Legend from his miserable musings. Twilight's dark tail stands out among the ocean of pastel pinks and yellows and oranges, wagging frantically twenty meters away. It disappears after a second, replaced by a muzzle and expectant eyes.

Twilight barks at him again.

He must have found something.

Finally, Legend thinks as he begins to make his way over toward the other, hopefully a reason to get out of this floral hell hole.

“What is it, boy?” Legend asks, voice going high and mocking as he takes delicate care stepping on as many flowers as possible, “Little Time-y fall down the well again?”

Instead of a growl for his effort, Legend gets a flurry of black flecks falling upward, like pieces of reverse snow, in his peripheral vision.

“You know,” Twilight says as he straightens to his full height, eyes half-lidded. Unamused, “You’re really not as funny as you seem to think you are.”

And before Legend can interrupt that– No, actually, you just have a dog shit sense of humor. Literally– Twilight continues, “I can smell the smithy all over this thing.” He nods down at a small tree stump breaking through the tide of flowers. “The scent is a bit old, probably from sometime before last evening, but still traceable. I should be able to find him from here.”

Legend eyes the stump for a moment, peering into the cracked hole in the top of the wood. Inside, he can see the round, red caps of several toadstools sprouting.

He can also sense magic. Close to that of the fairies– natural and glittering and smelling of moss– but not quite the same.

The Smithy’s doing?

Or a natural occurrence?

Regardless…

“Welp,” Legend says, straightening up, “Let's go find him. Couldn’t have gotten far on those little legs of his.”

“Again,” Twilight huffs, the black fractals already consuming him once more as he transforms, “You’re not as funny as you think...”

His voice distorts and fades into nothing as the magic swallows him whole, leaving Legend once again having a conversation with a very unimpressed looking wolf.

“I like you better when you can’t talk,” Legend tells Twilight as the other sets off, snuffling at the ground.

The other pauses to give Legend a look that would be more at home on a disapproving mother’s face, before continuing his tracking.

He also whaps Legend in the leg with his tail.

Hard.

The prick.

They continue on their trek together like that for a while, Twilight occasionally pausing to shove his nose into the dirt some more as he decides which direction to follow as Legend trails behind, keeping his eyes peeled for a quadripartite tunic and a head of straight, gold hair.

It isn't long before the farmhand turned canine breaks off into a light trot and then a jog, and then a full on sprint.

And stops just as suddenly.

Legend is out of breath by the time he slides to a stop behind the farmhand, but from a cursory glance around, there doesn’t seem to be a short, mouthy smithy anywhere in the vicinity.

“What happened?” Legend asks, still searching, turning circles as he cranes his neck, “Did you lose the trail?”

Twilight gives a light whine, grabbing Legend’s attention.

Then he does two full spins and sits primly, looking up at Legend.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Legend crinkles his nose at the canine. “Use your words.”

Wolfie rolls his eyes in a way that Legend didn’t think was possible for dogs and then stands.

The canine stares at him intently, as though making sure Legend’s eyes are locked with his own. And then he flicks his eyes over the yellow tulip he is sitting next to meaningfully. Then back to Legend. Back and forth back and forth, his eyes go for a full minute before he stops and stares at Legend once more.

Legend feels as his face wrinkles in confusion.

It's just a regular tulip, just like the thousands currently around them. Pretty enough, he supposes. The bulb seems to be a little wilted, like it's been weighed down by rain water perhaps, but other than that, nothing to sneeze at.

Or everything to sneeze at, if you’re Legend.

Legend gives the flower one more skeptical glance before turning to look at Twilight once more, brow raised.

“Pretty,” he assures the other. “Not sure how it helps us find Four.”

Twilight heaves another too human sigh.

And then he reaches up,  takes the sleeve of Legend’s tunic between his teeth, and yanks.

“Hey!” Legend yelps as he’s dragged down into the dirt, “Watch the teeth! The embroidery on this thing took forever to do and even longer to enchant!”

Twilight pays him no mind, pulling him down and forward, closer to his chosen tulip.

Legend tries his best to keep his face away from the damn thing.

“I swear on The Three, if your slobber stains–”

Legend’s words crumple up and die in his throat.

There’s something in the tulip.

At first glance, Legend would identify it as the Smithy's earring. The small feathered one that he takes special care of. The one that Four refuses to tell Legend the origin of, besides his cryptic, “From a friend.”

Legend would say that it was just the earring, but… but it isn’t.

Rather than being completely red with a white tip, Legend can see that this little feather is only mostly red. Right before the tip, a darker red plumage takes over, followed by purple and blue and green.

Also, rather than being attached to the small, golden chain and stud Four uses to fasten the jewelry to his earlobe, it’s attached to a body.

A very, very small body.

By now, Twilight has let go of his sleeve, but Legend both doesn’t notice and doesnt care, all of his attention fixed on the little creature before his eyes.

From what he can tell, the little creature is asleep, curled up in the bulb of the flower, his feather tail tucked up near his nose for warmth. Looking past the plumage, Legend can see that the little guy has a very rat-like face, complete with a small, twitching pink nose, long whiskers and–because the creature is shivering– long, chattering rodent incisors. Oval shaped ears stick out from the creature's head, a mix between mouse-like and Hylian.

And framing those ears is shoulder length, soaking wet blonde hair.

Blonde hair held out of the little guy's face by a green headband.

And…

And he’s wearing the smithy’s tunic?

“... Four?” Legend whispers in amazement.

And just saying the other’s name out loud is like a spell because suddenly Legend can see all signs. The little guy has Four’s bag over his shoulder and the Four Sword at his hip. That same magic that was by the stump– the not-fairy, fairy magic– completely surrounds him, dusting him in the same way he is currently dusted in yellow pollen.

“Is that you, Smithy?” Legend asks a little louder.

But rather than startle awake, the small creature– Four, Legend reminds himself– simply hunkers down more fully into the flower, curling up more fully as his shivers increase.

“He must have transformed in order to speak with the Minish around here.”

Twilight’s voice, even though it is a whisper, gives Legend a start. He hadn’t realized the other had transformed, nor had he seen the farmhand crouch down by his side.

The other isn’t looking at him as he speaks, cool blue eyes instead locked on the fitfully sleeping smithy, face concerned.

“He once told me that the Minish are insatiable gossips. He must have transformed to try and find us.”

The concern on the farhand’s face darkens the longer he stares.

“He must have been caught out in the storm,” Twilight says grimly.

Legend tries to imagine what that would be like. To be the size of a mouse and out in a storm. Tries to imagine what it would feel like for gale force winds to pull at drag at him, crushing him into the dirt one moment and yanking off his feet the next. Tries to imagine dodging back and forth between tulips, avoiding the head sized, stone cold rain drops pelting down from the sky

It's not a pretty pictograph, he’ll admit.

And ugh, Legend really isn't a fan of what it's making him consider.

He spares another glance at Four.

And fuck, the little guy shivers and shivers and shivers until the fower he is sleeping in is shaking with it.

And then, he sneezes, the sound coming out tiny and squeaky and weak.

Son of a bitch.

With a sigh that is as weary and reluctant and annoyed as he can possibly force it to be even though the vetran is feeling none of those things, Legend takes hold of the flower near its stem. As gently as possible, he digs his nails into the soft green there, cutting the flower from the ground while keeping it intact.

He hands it to Twilight, who takes it from him with gentle, if slightly confused hands.

With one hand, Legend flips open his shoulder bag. With the other, he rips his hat from his head with a motion probably a tad more violent than is really called for. He arranges the hat inside the bag, making sure to cover his items with the soft fabric while also shaping a soft bed.

Without looking up from his work, Legend extends a hand out to Twilight.

Makes a grabbing motion when what he wants isn't immediately in his hand.

After a second, Twilight slowly places the stem of the flower back in Legend’s hand and the Veteran gently lowers it in the small nest he had created, making sure the bulb sits in a place both shielded from the sun and extra comfortable thanks to the extra fabric padding beneath it.

In one smooth motion, Legend takes a hold of the strap of his bag, pulls it carefully off of his shoulder, and places it on the other side of Twilight’s neck.

And then, he reaches down and touches the dark stone hanging from the necklace around the farmhand’s throat, letting the darkness flock around and consume him.  

When Legend blinks open his eyes, Twilight is looking down at him smugly.

He is looking down farther than usual.

Also looking smugger than usual.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, shaking out his fur before hopping on all fours to get closer to the bag.

“I didn’t say anything,” Twilight replies, not bothing to wipe the smug look off his stupid face even as he lowers the bag to the ground for easier access.

“Yeah you did,” Legend hisses quietly as he clambers carefully into the satchel, settling down the nest of leather and items and hat.

He pulls the flower closer to his side where it is warm.

Inside, he can feel as Four’s shivers begin to lessen.

"Cute," Twilight laughs from above them.

"Fuck you," Legend whisper spits, though he makes no move to push Four's flower away. If anything, he pulls it closer when he hears the smaller hero start to make small, chittering snores, surprised the smithy could sleep through such a racket.

Twilight, thankfully, doesn't comment, instead pulling the top of the bag loosely closed to give them some shade. Then, Legend feels as he gently lifts the satchel back up, slings it slowly over his shoulder as to not disturb the contents inside, and begins walking, hopefully back in the direction of the forest.

Legend can still hear the farmhand laughing to himself from within the bag, but without the others' eyes on him, he finds he doesn't care.

The pollen still itches at his eyes and nose and Legend can still feel the pound of his sinuses even now.  But something about the shade and warmth and soft rocking of the bag makes it hard for him to mind.

Four gives a harty twitch, kicking a petal directly into Legend’s face.

And even that doesn't dissuade the veteran from his task.

Instead, Legend sighs and pulls Four even closer, relaxing despite the discomfort.

He’s got dirt on both Twilight and now Four, the two heroes with sticks most firmly inserted into their asses. He can get out of whatever chores and lectures they try to pin him with.

Yep, he thinks , distantly. That's why he did this.

For the blackmail.

And no other reason.