@tortilla-of-courage I haven’t stopped cackling the entire time I wrote this, and it is entirely because of you.
Link didn’t mean to slam the door in the strangers face. Well, no actually he did. He didn’t mean to be rude about it, but he definitely meant to slam the door.
It’s just…of all the ways he thought his morning would start, having green clad stranger knock on his door was not one of them. Never mind a stranger, armed to the teeth, asking him about his name of all things.
He takes a deep breath, steadying his heart rate and pushes himself away from the wooden surface behind him. Though only in his mid teens, Link likes to think he has a keen eye for trouble– Damned Goddess knows he wouldn’t have lived this long if that weren’t the case – and right now his better sense is screaming at him to walk away and ignore the shadow he can see shift awkwardly under the door gap.
But hell if he isn’t a little curious.
Link is a little dissapointed in himself with how short his internal debate lasts, before caving to his worse judgement, and with a groan he turns around and pulls the door back open.
The man is still there. Honestly, Link isn’t sure why he is suprised.
“Sorry,” he says, arms crossed and not sounding the least bit remorseful, “Can I help you with something?”
The brown haired traveler blinks wide eyed, taken aback by either the curt tone, the door slam or some combination of the two. Guilt from his rudeness laces through the pit of Links stomach when it becomes clear that the stranger doesn’t know how to respond, and he drops his arms, stepping aside and gesturing for the brunet to come in.
“I was just about to start breakfast, we could discuss whatever it is you have come for over toast.”
It is by far the most uncomfortable meal Link has ever had in his life. They don’t actually do any talking, each man munching on the slightly burnt pieces of bread in total silence. His visitor spends the majority of the meal looking everywhere but at Link, eyes darting from one object to another in poorly disguised fascination before looking away as if afraid to be caught. For his part, the blonde takes the time to observe the newcomer. He can’t be much older then himself, his limbs gangly in the way of a teenager still coming into their body. With the plain green tunic over worn brown undergarments and hair that looks like it has never seen a proper haircut in it’s life, Links guest looks alarmingly…simple. If it weren’t for the arsenal of weapons piled by the door and the faint sense of magic emminating from the teen, Link would think the stranger normal.
“Thank you for the food,” the traveler says after he has finished eating, and Link is struck by the genuine gratitude over what was an admetedly poor meal.
“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs. “So what can I do for you?”
The teen shifts in his seat.
“I saw your sign out front. Is uh, is your name Link?”
“Yeah, but the shop is closed. My-” he pauses for a moment, considering how best to describe Ravio other then as a sometimes roommate, “-my business partner is out of town, and he does most of the running of the store.”
“That’s- that’s not what I wanted to ask about. I’m a little lost.” The teen admits sheepishly, “Things look familiar but I can’t quite place where I am and I was wondering if you-”
Link misses the rest of the question, mind caught on the way the other man said ‘things look familiar’. His sense of trouble is tingling again, urging him to acknowledge the growing familiarity at the situation.
“Hyrule,” he states, cutting the other off. “You are in Hyrule. Not far from the castle.”
“Oh,” the traveler deflates, and Link finds his hope for a normal morning slipping further from his grasp. With dread gnawing at his stomach, Link swallows and steels himself to ask the question he is absolutely certain he doesn’t want to know the answer to.
“What did you say your name was?”
The stranger sucks in a breath, expression pained and slowly, watching for how his host will react, responds.
Link doesn’t try to remain polite, and wails as his head hits the table.
He knew he shouldn’t have opened the door.
