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Read on Ao3 - My third submission for the ‘For the TriForce’ Fic Fight 2026! @forthetriforce
Summary: He is the Hero(?).
The Princess needs help.
And death allows him to try again.
Fic under the cut:
After nearly a millennium of peace, Ganondorf rises once again. And the land is thrown into chaos.
The Champions stand against it all.
And fall.
The Hero defends the Princess with dying breath. But it’s not enough.
There is no rest for Hylia’s Chosen.
He wakes in the Shrine of Resurrection, knowing nothing. Carrying the fate of everything. A piece of him mourns.
The name the Princess calls him does not feel like it fits. There is no Link. Not anymore. All that remains is whatever he is now.
“Remember,” she says. Though there was nothing before.
Monsters roam the plateau. He finds a tree branch on the ground. Muscle memory takes over after 100 years to block a club.
But a branch is not a sword.
Link, or whatever equivalent he is supposed to be, is bludgeoned to death. His life was sad and short.
Well, until it’s not.
⋟❋⋞
He wakes again in the glowing blue pool.
The Princess calls out to him.
He is relieved to find out he hasn’t been sleeping for another 100 years.
This time, he chooses the pot lid over the stick. He does not engage the monsters. Not while he only wears rags instead of armor.
An old man greets him. Would have been nice to know the first time.
Four shrines lie awaiting him. The first is simple. The second is less so.
It’s the third that gets him.
It’s cold, cold, cold. The snow on the ground is not a friend. He climbs. His fingers hurt; they lock up.
The hold on the rocks shifts, then loosen.
He falls, and his body is dashed upon the rocks below.
⋟❋⋞
He saves that shrine for last, wandering instead.
A cabin lies further than he’s ventured thus far. The old man is there, too. He gives him a warm shirt. It fends off the worst of the chill.
He learns he can throw stuff into the pot and make something edible. The peppers make him warmer.
Time is of the essence. He tries getting to the shrine again.
The river is fast and unforgiving. The water is much too cold. But it is not the cold that kills him.
It’s the water. His leg gets stuck below.
He drowns.
⋟❋⋞
The blue pool is no longer a friend. Yes, it releases him, unlike the river. But the water makes him forget how to breathe.
He exits the shrine and sits near the drop-off until the beating in his chest calms.
Then, he just sits. He can’t move. Not yet. Not while his hair still drips blue drops from the pool.
The old man meets him there, tired of waiting. The shrines, he says.
The Hero (is he still that?) gets up. That shrine is first now. No use in wasting time if he fails.
Somehow, he gets there. Giant ice blocks help him get back.
The old man points him to the Temple, then disappears in a blaze of fire. A ghost. The old man has died.
Is Link, if that is truly him, also a ghost? No. He’s different.
He steps into the Temple. The old man speaks. Most of it does not stick with him, only that the Princess needs help. He knows. That is his only purpose, after all.
A paraglider is given to him. He will not die by falling again. He leaves the plateau.
After he lands, a tall blue monster impales him with a spear.
⋟❋⋞
After another few tries, he makes it to his next destination. In the house sits an old woman. She speaks without a thought to her words. But he is not quite the one she was expecting. She does not seem to mind as the old man had.
There are four new places to get to before he can enter the castle. How strange. But what does he know?
Somehow, he makes it all the way to the first one without incident. A giant flying bird circles the village of smaller flying birds. He fetches the one Rito, the name of the bird people, who hides away. Without hands, the bird shows him how to use a bow.
He returns to the village.
While he ignored it the first time, this time he can’t ignore the tug that calls him to the platform they call ‘Revali’s.’
He steps onto it. The world melts away.
He sees a Rito. It doesn’t seem to like him very much. It flies away and taunts that he can’t do the same. Silly bird. Hylians do not fly.
When he comes back to himself, he finds his eyes crying. How strange. He decides he does not like the landing platform.
He is flown to the ‘divine beast.’ Puzzles are weird. The voice that talks at him while he progresses is rude.
The abomination he fights is hard. Though, somehow, he manages it. The giant bird glows blue like his shrine.
The Rito, a ghost like the old man, rewards him with strong gusts for his travels. It looks sad.
Link, the one he is mistaken for, leaves in the night.
Skeletons rise from the earth. Most of the arrows they shoot miss. Three hit him. They slow him enough for a fourth to pierce his heart.
⋟❋⋞
He stands on the plateau’s first cliffside and tries to call on the winds like he was shown. It greets him by ruffling his hair and clothes. However, it is not the great gust he was shown. Merely the breeze from his high place. The gift did not stay through his death.
That is fine. He’ll just get it again.
So, he jumps.
Though he forgets he has not yet claimed the paraglider from the old man.
In his most foolish death yet, he dies from the height of his fall.
⋟❋⋞
Once again securing the Rito’s winds, he is off toward the giant elephant. All the water is unnerving. The rain is supposedly never-ending.
A fish man, the ‘Zora Prince,’ meets him along the road and warns him of the monsters. Then he swims away.
He must not have been listening well, he thinks, as the lizard monster shoots him with a yellow-tipped arrow.
Everything burns. His body won’t move. The electricity is not a friend.
The lizard runs him through.
⋟❋⋞
He makes it to the Zora village. The fish king is very large.
An old fish man points out the large statue of a woman that sits in the town center. Another vision overtakes him.
The woman, a Zora Princess (not his Princess), heals him with some magic light. They sit atop the giant elephant. She speaks. The vision ends.
He is given a tunic that helps him swim better. It is a kind gift. Perhaps the water can once again be his friend.
The elephant is filled with puzzles like the giant bird. These puzzles might be easier.
The abomination that greets him at the end is similar to the bird’s. It can reach further. He is not fast enough.
His head is severed from his shoulders.
⋟❋⋞
The elephant is easy. The abomination inside is not. He makes swift potions to aid him. He is victorious this time.
The Zora’s ghost greets him. Her eyes are sad like the old man’s. She gives him her gift of healing. The rain stops. The lizard monsters scatter. He leaves.
On his way to the next divine beast, he tries to figure out how to work the Zora’s gift. The Rito, though rude, at least had shown him how to use the winds. He runs into a monster camp to find out.
With all his deaths, he has been learning how to fight. The monsters fall by his blade (though this blade isn’t right, it serves its purpose), leaving little for him to experiment with. He runs into the forest.
Two men in white masks appear before him. The Hero, self–proclaimed, has not taken a Hylian life. He hesitates. The two men don't.
A sickle slices his front open.
They laugh. He dies.
- - -
But instead of the Shrine, he wakes on the grass.
“It has been my pleasure.” The Zora says. Oh. The gift gives him another chance. It is all hers to give.
He continues from where he left off this time.
The Zora Prince speaks to him. There is little to understand. He leaves.
To the lava mountain.
Horses graze in the distance; he spooks them when trying to catch one. He has seen travelers riding them. Maybe one day he can figure it out.
The mountain is hot. A woman gives him a salve that cools him down. It only helps a little. He changes into his briefs to further help with the heat. They stare, but do not speak.
He makes his way up, following the pre-made path.
A lava octopus emerges from the mountainside and nails him in the head with a boulder. Whether he dies on impact or from falling into the living fire and burning alive, he doesn’t know. It makes no difference.
But the Zora palace is now his first destination.
⋟❋⋞
The Zora gives him healing. He tries the giant lizard before getting to the bird.
The living rocks are very loud, though they seem kind.
In the cliffside is carved a family. He knows what's coming the moment he sees it, but cannot stop the vision that comes.
This Goron is happy too. Very big. Very loud. Non-living rocks roll off the mountain. The Goron glows red, and the rocks bounce off him.
It ends. Tears fall down his face.
He is not appreciative of the one who pointed out the carving. He walks toward the giant lizard. A young Goron insists on helping. At the very least, he is a good listener.
He shoots the Goron out of a cannon.
Then steps into the giant lizard. Puzzles. Terminals.
Abomination. It kills him once, but the Zora revives him. He is victorious.
The ghost of a Goron gives him his shield. He tests it on the same octopus that killed him last time. It works. The Goron shield is almost as good as the Zora’s healing. It will defend him.
But only once a life, he finds out. He does this the hard way.
A man-horse monster he encounters does not give him a chance to fight before he is crushed to death by its hooves.
⋟❋⋞
Elephant. Lizard. Bird. Now he only needs the camel.
The tall, red haired women won’t let him in. He has to dress in special clothes. Vai clothes. They are nice and cool him down in the heat. It is a much different heat than the fire mountain.
He must retrieve a golden helm. In the midst of the red suits and white masks. He almost sneaks his way through the hideout, but is caught by the leader. He is forced to fight.
Without meaning to, Link, a name he has dragged through the mud, kills the masked man.
The remaining masked members flee from the murderer in fear.
Left alone, he cries strongly. Even though he knows that if the death was necessary, it will happen next time. Still, the body mourns until night falls and he almost freezes to death. But all his work would be in vain if he let himself die now. He dons the feathered tunic from the bird people and returns to the Gerudo people.
The tiny Gerudo leader accepts the helm from him. She smiles in just a way-
The vision starts. He sees a Gerudo woman and a Hylian girl. The first wakes the other. Then he himself wakes.
The girl stays seared in his mind.
He leaves for the camel.
Just getting into it might be the hardest of the beasts. Sand is everywhere. He needs to hit the moving targets. Good. The bird taught him how before. So, the camel is stopped.
He climbs inside.
Puzzles. They are not his friend here. Neither is the electricity; he already knows.
This abomination is even faster than the others had been. Though he is armed and prepared compared to it, he is slow.
The lightning burns him from the inside-out, and he dies. What a way to go.
- - -
The grace brings him back. He drinks one of the resistant potions immediately. Now all he has is the shield, which he must time well or else it will lose its use.
The abomination was not prepared to see his body spring back to life.
He learns to use magnesis to help it hurt itself. When it falls he attacks.
The shield saves him from a death when the lightning tries to catch him. He is on his own now.
He shoots an arrow at an eye. It dies.
A form of lightning meant for lightning is given by the Gerudo woman. He can’t see himself using it.
He stumbles out.
Deserts are strange. They’re hot. And they're cold. He must change again out of the warm tunic to accommodate. The tiny Gerudo thanks him. He leaves.
The castle finally comes into view again. The terrible ‘guardians’ surround it. They make the body react in a similar way to the water after he drowns. Fear, he thinks. It makes his breath quick and his chest hurt. He sneaks around them, and though it takes longer, he gets to the sanctum.
The Princess apologizes. She does not need to.
The abomination of the castle, the King of abominations emerges and pulls them down into the castle’s depths. The four divine beasts help. Then he is on his own.
It has too many weapons. Is too unpredictable. His armor feels once again like rags as it cuts him down the middle.
Link, the one he couldn’t truly be, dies.
⋟❋⋞
It is not a failure. He learns because of it. He knows that much.
Not that he knows a lot else. He could make a list of all the things he knows:
The big blue expanse is the sky (though it can also be red, and black, and yellow).
The Princess (whoever she is) needs help.
And death (the concept of which he does not understand) is only a means to try again.
Twilight blinked, mouth open as he tried to catch up with the situation. "No!" He exclaimed, waving his hands (that were still holding the fruit) as if to show he meant no harm. "It was an accident, I must've not seen you there—"
"Ha!" The man interrupted him, looking around at the crowd with eyes wide and hands outstretched as if he was saying 'get a load of this guy!'. "I know your tricks." He seethed. "I know you think I'm a weak old man who can't fight back. But no one, and I mean no one steals from me and gets away with it!"
Or: Twilight is having a bad day, which gets slightly worse before it gets slightly better.
Link’s seen every inch of the Great Sea by this point and not one mermaid. She’s a big girl and can admit when her grandma’s stories are just that: stories.
She bites her tongue and fiddles with her joy pendant, cursing herself out, as she very carefully does not make eye contact with the wide, golden eyes fixed on her from under the pier.
A sailor, a mermaid, and a necklace.
fic written for @forthetriforce ; prompts by @void-confusion & @imperialkatwala
Read on Ao3 - The second submission for the ‘For the TriForce’ Fic Fight 2026!! @forthetriforce
Summary: The new hero, battered, beaten, broken, has only just finished his final battle. Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, rain fell in sheets... And the new hero had no wings.
Fic under the cut:
- - -
Legend cursed at the shining golden gate.
A golden gate meant another hero. It meant their eight would become nine. It meant another Link whose life they had to disrupt.
Screw all that.
It had been three or four weeks since the last golden gate and the welcoming of Four into their numbers. Since then, they had been through three different, much less divine-feeling portals, making them all assume that Four would be the last of their heroes. Turns out they were wrong.
How many more would have to join them? Just how big was the threat they would have to face? And how long before he could walk right up to Hylia and tell her to buzz off-
“Ack! Legend!” Wind yelled, throwing his arms up to keep Legend’s feathers out of his face. Whoops.
Legend forced his flaring wings to chill out, muttering a quick apology to the tiny Sailor. It wasn’t Legend’s fault he was standing so close, after all.
Well, there was no use in trying to fight it. Luckily, they had already packed up camp and were set to begin traveling. At least this time, Hylia let them prepare. He waited for no one before stepping into it.
Walking through it felt like every other time before. Disorienting. Cold. Wrong. One would think Hylia could spare a better way of traveling, but no, of course not. It didn’t seem she cared for their destination, either. The moment his feet found purchase in this new time, Legend was practically assaulted by the weather.
Rain fell from the heavens in freezing cold sheets, immediately drenching through all the layers of his clothing. Someone yelped from the sudden shock of it. Strong gales blew from their left, causing Legend to stumble into the person nearest to him, Warriors, who was flaring out his wings to try to keep himself balanced. Legend nearly did the same until he then heard the thunder that boomed and echoed all around them, followed quickly by flashing lightning just beyond them. His wings stayed pressed tightly against himself. It was more likely that the wind would simply knock him down if he tried, anyway.
A quick check assured that the two smallest were standing with others; Wind leaned against Wild, and Four with Twilight.
Hylia had dropped them in the middle of a god-forsaken lightning storm.
How lovely. He could already imagine how long it would take to dry out all his belongings.
Even better, it seemed as if they were on some kind of platform or elevated plain. Only darkness was visible past the edge, and no one would dare get close enough to see what might lie beyond. Not unless they were keen on getting blown off. Well, he’d keep an extra eye out for Wild and Hyrule.
Though, perhaps there was a bit of an upside to all this: They wouldn’t have to look far for their new hero.
In the center of it all stood a young man pointing a glowing blue Master Sword in their direction, his stance one of tired defense. The man looked confused, surprised maybe; it was hard to make out his exact expression through the heavy rain.
The leader of their rag-tag group, Time, made his way to the front of them, hands up in a sign of peace. His expression was unnoteworthy, but Legend knew that he was actively fighting back a grimace. The Old Man hated the rain; anything more than a drizzle made him irritable. Owls were not as resistant to rain as other birds, after all.
Time tried calling out to the man, but his words were stolen by the wind. Legend couldn’t even hear most of the words. The Master Sword stayed raised in warning.
Hmm, that might be a problem. It had been difficult enough to explain themselves to any of the heroes in the first place, armed to the gills and suddenly appearing out of nowhere. It would be nearly impossible to do so if they had no true way of communication. This hero was ready for a fight.
And perhaps he had the advantage. Maybe this horrid weather was a staple of his time; if so, he surely had the advantage over any of them.
Before they could find out if that would be the case, the hero crumpled to the ground as a puppet with cut strings. And as if in pity, the rain began to let up, softening from a torrential downpour to a more tolerable rainfall. Time, Warriors, and himself, as the closest ones, surged toward the young man. Legend nearly jumped into the air, ready to spring into a quick flight to reach the fallen hero, but caught himself just before he spread his wings.
That was close. He certainly wasn’t heavy enough to fight against the winds- they would’ve easily snatched him up and carelessly tossed him away. Instead, he clinked his heels together and whispered an incantation under his breath. The Pegasus boots sang with magic. Legend ran.
When he reached the hero, the only thing he could think was, oh. This was much worse than he thought.
Just a first glance revealed pressing injuries that only one fresh from a battle should bear. Dark gashes of blood that must have been stab wounds stained the rain-soaked green tunic, and a long cut down the length of his thigh. His left arm twisted wrongly. Any exposed flesh was either black and blue, or angry red.
In the hand that had been holding the Master Sword, the palm and fingers of the hero’s glove looked as if melted onto the skin of his hand. Exactly in the shape of her hilt.
And perhaps worst of all, the hero, battered and broken, was only still a teenager (though that was nothing new).
Warriors finally caught up, kneeling beside the two of them. Immediately, the Captain acted, pulling the hero to himself and brushing his fingers over the evident injuries, assessing them. Being held like a child made the hero look even younger.
It was then Legend realized: the hero had no wings.
They were not folded under him, as he’d initially believed. Nor were they dark and just hard to see in the still-falling rain. No, he simply had none. Legend’s wings fluttered at the thought. He forced them back down.
The others caught up, questions in their eyes, but silence on their lips.
Then, something tugged the edge of his soul. Legend’s gaze flew up, searching. However, there was no new swirling portal in front of them. He turned.
The golden gate still stood. No.
All of the heroes bristled at once, those who could, flaring their wings in anger.
“It seems she already expects us to travel back.” Time commented. There was no lost love for Hylia in his tone. His single blue eye stared at the new hero for only a moment, before continuing, “It’s best we comply.”
Even though it was insane. Even though they had never been asked to travel through the portals more than once in the same day, let alone only a few, rain-soaked minutes after arriving. However, there was little to be done about it. Either they went through the portal willingly, or Hylia made a new one and forced them through it. He’d found that out the hard way.
At their best, the portals were disorienting and sickening. At the worst, Legend felt as though he was being twisted inside out. His defiance had instantly turned to regret; it had been horrible. They could not do that to the boy.
It seemed like Twilight, who had also experienced the forced portal, had come to the same conclusion. “Let’s go.” He agreed.
“No, wait.” Came a whisper.
The boy was blinking up at them, his one bruised eyelid staying stubbornly closed.
Time knelt beside the boy. “I truly do apologize, but we must go. She…” He pauses, as if holding back as much harshness as he was able, “Hylia has willed it.”
“But,” the boy starts, trying to straighten himself as if to pull away from the Captain and move himself. A cry of pain results from the simple attempt of movement. He looks out into the nothing that waits beyond the plateau, “She’s down there. Zelda.”
And just like that, it got even worse.
While Legend could’ve put two-and-two together (a part of him already had, the rest just didn’t want to admit it), those words confirmed it. He was still on his adventure. Or from the looks of it, was just shy of completing it and returning home. But now he wouldn’t be going home.
Getting back to his feet, a knee definitely ‘popped.’ Still, Time directed his attention to the other heroes. “Come, let’s give him the moment.”
Quickly, Time and Twilight herded the remaining heroes into the portal. “We’ll meet you on the other side.” The Old Man winked at them (or had it just been a blink?) before he stepped through. Only Warriors, Legend, and the new hero remained.
The boy wasted no time. Tugging on Warriors’ scarf, he tried to pull himself up, to no avail. “Please, I just, I need to see her.” He whispered, voice ragged, desperation clear on his face. It was not a question.
Even if he wanted to, Legend was not strong enough nor big enough to carry a passenger. Not anymore. Not since…
Stupid bleeding heart, he was. He locked eyes with Warriors. At first, he wasn’t sure what he would ask, other than perhaps to find a way to help the kid. “Captain?”
Warriors, who had appeared as torn as Legend himself was, simply nodded, expression cooling into one of resolve. He slowly rose to his feet. The boy in his arms whimpered. His blistered hands shook as he tried to grab onto the Captain.
Though the rain still poured from above, and the winds still tugged all around, Warriors lifted his wings. And jumped into the air. Within only a few seconds, Legend was lost from sight, and Warriors and his new friend soared.
He tried flying straight just long enough to clear the plateau. Even that little bit of distance was hard. He was confident enough to know that he would not be knocked completely out of the air, but to end up exactly where he planned was less likely.
Luckily, all he planned was the dropoff. Once there was nothing but empty air beneath him, Warriors dove.
The new hero screamed. First, in surprise and fear, then it shifted more toward joy, if not disbelief. The boy clung onto him so tightly, the Captain would not be surprised to wake up with bruises in the shapes of fingers the next morning. Regardless, he knew there was no chance he would drop him.
As they fell, the storm was left behind. The thunder faded, and the rain lightened more and more the further they got. How peculiar. Warriors kept his wings flared, slowing their descent. There was no way of telling just how far the surface was, after all. To his relief, land was within sight.
Shapes began sharpening underneath. A large stone statue made the new hero squirm, tossing his head back to get a better view. Warriors leaned toward it, letting muscle memory guide the movement of his wings. There was a little platform near the base of the statue, and at the very least, he could get them there. He would, given the pure determination this new hero held to get there.
Warriors circled the back of the statue’s head and back around to the front. They drew closer.
He heard her before he saw her.
“Link!”
Zelda. Immediately he was sure. Dressed in all white, with long golden hair and a peculiar expression set on her face.
And then a golden gate opened before them, too close to maneuver around. Invisible hands grabbed him. Warriors was forced into the gate, the new hero held tightly in his arms.
What One Does to a Sleepover | For The Triforce FicFight Event Fic
*note, art is not 100% fic accurate :p
https://archiveofourown.org/works/87744266
@forthetriforce And entire fic under the cut as well!
Zelda had it all planned out; the perfect sleepover was going to happen right here, right in her very room. It was going to be the greatest sleepover she, and her two sleepoverers were going to ever have!
At least, that was Zelda's hope. She never even had a sleepover before, if you didn’t count the times her cat snuggled up to her in bed. Or if you didn’t count those times out in the wild, cuddling up with Tri as she tried to get a brief respite from Null’s hunt for her.
Good thing she never was sleeping outside for long. She always had a bed back then, with an Ignizol echo nearby for warmth, too. And now that whole mess was all over with, she was back in her impeccably soft bed with the comfiest pajamas in all of Hyrule!
And the only trial this princess had to deal with now was to make sure that the “perfect sleepover” was to go off without a hitch. She had done her due diligence in sleepover research—snacks from various domains, a list of spooky stories curated by Impa and Lefte, various crafting materials, board games, and more.
She might've prepared a bit too much for the sleepover. But, too many options were far better than too little! They were going to have fun, Zelda and her friends, she was going to guarantee it!
A knock sounded on Zelda's door as she was going over her sleepover plans, ruminating over a checklist at her vanity.
“Yes?” Zelda called out as she hopped off of her stool. A guard opened her bedroom door, saluting at her.
“Princess!” The guard shouted, “Your friends have arrived at the castle! Your father—th-the king, I mean, he should be greeting them in the throne room right now.”
“Yes!” Zelda cheered, “Thank you for informing me, guardsman. I’ll be out in a moment.” She had to put her pajamas on, after all.
The guard than left, saying that he’ll inform her friends of that statement. After the door closed, she quickly changed into her sleeping garments, doing a little spin after once properly for the night's events.
The sun was setting, and her excitement only grew.
“Sir Catsalot, Head of Room Security,” Zelda addressed her cream colored cat that sat sleepily upon her bed, “I trust you'll be watching over us when the sleepover occurs, correct?”
The cat meowed back at their human, earning a few loving pets from the princess.
“Very good! I’ll be returning soon—watch over the room until then!”
Another meow from the cat, and Zelda was out the door.
She spun down the halls in glee, greeting the guards as she made her way to her friends—and to her father too, of course.
Entering the throne room, Zelda saw her friends chatting with her father, Impa, and General Wright.
“Zelda!” They cheered upon seeing her, with the exception of Impa and the General, who cried, “Princess!” instead.
“Hello!” Zelda waved as she skipped her way down the room’s red carpet, towards her father and her friends.
“You're wearing your silk pajamas!” Dohna giddily exclaimed, “Look! I'm wearing mine too.” And that she was, doing a small spin in her glee.
The king laughed, “Ah, how wonderful it is to be matching with your friend, my dear Zelda. It was a good idea to let them change before the sleepover party. Although…” he looked over at Link, who was wearing a simple white under tunic and trousers.
“Well, it’s a good enough sleeping outfit for anyone, I suppose!” The king laughed again, with the General joining in. Link looking like…well, how he always looked—slightly angry. So he was likely feeling just fine.
“Maybe we can get you some silk pajamas of your own, Link,” Dohna suggested, “But it won’t be easy! You’ll have to earn the comfort. I’ll have the soldiers create a trail just for you!”
Link looked extremely determined to earn said comfort, and a giggle escaped Zelda's lips.
Impa spoke up, “I hope you all will have a grand time, children,” she said, “I hope your ‘perfect sleepover’ will be as perfect as you imagined it to be, princess.”
“Thank you Impa,” Zelda replied, “and it will be perfect! I promise.” She aimed the last words towards her two friends, who looked excited.
Honestly, Zelda was getting more nervous from that excitement. Would this sleepover actually be as perfect as she promised? And if not, would her friends be disappointed with her?
“Follow me Dohna, Link,” Zelda then proclaimed, ignore her internal panic, “The perfect sleepover awaits!” Zelda did a spin, and trotted over to her room, the footsteps of her friends pitter-pattering right behind her. Not to mention her also telling the others goodnight, before she left.
Opening the door to her bedroom, she exclaimed, “Welcome to my room! Make yourselves at home here!”
“Ooo,” Dohna murmured as she looked over the room, seeing the various boxes and items strewn somewhat messily about. Link was already examining the boxes, finding things such as board games and snacks within.
“I see you’ve prepared quite a bit for our sleepover,” Dohna noted.
“Ha ha, yes, I did,” Zelda nodded, “Although, I think I might've done a bit too much.” It was definitely too much, now that she looked at it all.
Dohna set a hand on her friend's shoulder. “Nonsense!” She claimed, “It's just more opportunities for fun to be had.”
Yes, Dohna was affirming her! And judging by the way Link was going through the boxes and items, he seemed rather excited about the preparations Zelda made, too.
“Now then!” Zelda skipped over to her vanity, grabbing her notebook where her plans laid written, “Let’s get this sleepover started!”
The two looked over at her, until both of the girls attention shifted towards Link, who was halfway in a box, with a hexagonal chess board sitting atop his head. A very giggle-worthy scene.
“Do we want to start with chess?” Zelda asked, “I was gifted a three-player board for this sleepover specifically!”
“Oh! What fun!” Dohna clasped her hands in glee, “Although, I can’t recall the last time I played a game of regular chess…”
“Don’t worry!” Zelda assured her friend, “I can teach you both how to play as we go. Link, have you ever played chess before?”
Link crawled out of the box and set the board down on the floor. He shook his head no, before returning to the box and fishing out three bags full of chess pieces—a green one, a red one, and a blue one.
“Now,” Zelda started to explain as she took the blue bag, “three-player chess is a bit harder than two player, but I’m sure it’ll be fun!”
It was not very fun. It was okay, but trying to explain how the game and trying to remember how it worked—she had to go on a brief but fun hunt for the game's rule book—led to Zelda having a less than ideal time, personally.
But, it was definitely worth it. Link and Dohna seemed to enjoy the game—even though Link was the first to get out. And seeing Dohna’s eyes light up with as much glee as it did when she won was a blessed sight.
“Since you won the chess game,” Zelda said to Dohna, “Would you like to choose the next activity?”
“Oh, that sounds great!” Dohna replied, “But, I do wonder how I’ll be able to choose only one thing in this vast array of boxes.”
“Oh! Well, um…we have snacks! And various other things we could do instead of just board games.”
“It seems like our adventurous friend has already found some of those ‘snacks’ you speak off.”
Sure enough, Link was innocently munching on some thin pretzels, ones that Zelda helped make with the Royal Chef a few days prior.
“Ha!” Dohna laughed at Link’s visage, “It seems that the snacks are quite tasty, eh, Link?”
Link nodded as he started to munch on yet another pretzel.
Zelda snorted. Then she suggested, “Would you like a smoothie? I have many smoothies.”
“I’d love one! Do you have any smoothies made with Warm Peppers this time?”
“Of course I do!” Zelda quickly fetched three Golden Piping-Hot Smoothies, “They’re made with Golden Eggs too!”
“Golden Eggs!” Dohna repeated with a gasp, “Those are hard to find!”
“No kidding. Link, would you like a smoothie?”
The swordsman nodded, confident in his spice tolerance. Too confident, one might say, but he managed to drink the whole thing. Even if his face was a tad concerningly red and wet.
The group then partook in a few more games, a few snack breaks, and some crafting activities too. Origami was a wonderful thing that Zelda was glad she stumbled upon in her research of activities they all could do.
During the fun, Zelda even set up a—modified—Gizmol to play music throughout the night. Although, upon seeing the wind-up automaton, the other two wanted to see the rest of her mechanical contraptions.
Unfortunately Zelda only had one Clockwork Key, and had to explain with deep sadness in her heart that it was a one-of-a-kind item, so only one automaton could work at a time.
That did not stop the twos drive to battle a Roboblin. So a brief battle did then commence, before going back to the regular sleepover activities. Zelda would have to get Dampé to fix it, after how badly the poor automaton was pummeled.
The rest of the night passed by without much sadness, the trio of friends enjoying their time with one another. And as the night went on, the sleepier they all became. But Zelda wanted to do at least one more game before she could put this sleepover to rest.
“There’s this card game I found,” Zelda began, an air of mystery in her voice as she fished out a small, rectangular box from the box pile, “One that came from a faraway land.”
“What land is it?” Dohna asked, which was a good question. Zelda looked over her notes, and after a solid minute, realized that she did not write down where this game had originated from.
“It appears the origin is unknown, to me,” Zelda sighed, “However, we can ask Impa about it tomorrow.”
Zelda dusted off the small box, then opened it from what she figured was the “top” of it. She gathered the three to sit in a circle as she dumped the colorful cards onto the carpet floor.
“This game is called ‘Uno,’” Zelda stated, “And from what I've been able to gather, it means ‘one’ in its mother tongue.”
Dohna hummed and nodded as she looked at the cards, with Link grabbing all the green cards he can see.
“And how do we play ‘Uno?’” Dohna asked as she held up a card.
“Well, to win, you need to get your cards down to zero. But, you have to say ‘Uno!’ once you get down to one card.”
“Ahhh, that’s how you deduced that ‘uno’ means ‘one.’”
Zelda beamed with some pride at Dohan’s recognition of her reasoning. Link seemed to approve of it too, if his surprised yet determined look was anything to go by.
Zelda then explained the rest of the rules to her friends, before shuffling the deck—to marginal success—and dealing the cards with the side “Uno” etched onto them facing upwards, seven cards for the each of them. Zelda looked at the rule pamphlet that Minister Lefte had diligently translated for her, satisfied that she’d done things mostly right so far. She'd taken the role of dealer prematurely, but that shouldn't affect the actual game too much.
Zelda looked up at her friends, who were examining their cards with great interest. There were still face down, however.
Zelda got their attention, then said, “You can look at you cards now, but! You can’t let anyone see what they are underneath the ‘Uno’ side, alright?” The two muttered an agreement, and everyone took their cards.
There were no yellow cards in Zelda's hands, but she had at least had two of each other color, with an additional Wild card!
“Everyone understands what their cards do, yes?” Zelda asked. Link was squinting hard at his cards, before then grouping them all into one hand and gave Zelda a thumbs up.
“I…suppose,” Dohna murmured, “Can I take a look at the rules you have there?”
“Of course!” Zelda gave her the pamphlet, “You’ll also start first, since you're to my—the dealer's—left.”
“What joy!”
Zelda then flipped over the top card of the draw deck, with a yellow “one” card starting it off. Did Zelda have any ones, at least? No, she did not, but things could change in her favor before her turn arrived. She wanted to save her Wild card for a while longer.
“I’ll play…” Dohna slowly drew out a card from her hand, then quickly slapped it down on the discard pile. “A yellow seven. I believe it’s your turn now, Link.”
Link slid out a card and set down a green seven. Good, Zelda could save her Wild.
“A green five,” Zelda said as she placed down her card. Next, Dohna placed a green eight, then Link with red eight.
“You don’t have to change the color every time, you know,” Dohna told Link. Link looked at her with a fire in his eyes, like she had accidentally set off a kind of challenge in his mind.
A challenge he had lost on his very next turn. His sullen face was perhaps not entirely congruent with the fact that they were playing a simple card game. It seemed that, just like Zelda, he held no yellow cards in his hand. Dohna had played a yellow eight, and Zelda was forced to play her Wild.
“I chose blue!” Zelda announced. She had blue Reverse and a blue Skip card, her only non-Wild action cards in her current hand.
Dohna smirked, “Well, if you're so confident with blue, then how about you prove it!” She slammed down a blue Reverse, and Zelda had to hold back her immediate smirk.
Zelda retorted, “I’m very confident with blue,” as she then slapped down her own blue Reverse. Dohna gasped at the card unexpected to her.
Dohna glared at the card Zelda played for a moment, before placing down a blue three. Link sadly placed down a blue one, Zelda skipped Dohna's turn, and Link played yet another blue. And so, the game went on in silence, with no more actions cards being played for a while.
The Uno game was going well, for everyone but Zelda, having somehow reached ten cards now. Her luck with games during this sleepover wasn't going that well, even if she played as smartly as she could. Honestly, it was a bit frustrating. But it was still fun, and her friends were having fun, so it was all worth it. A little frustration was all worth it if everyone ended up happy in the end.
“Uno!” Dohna shouted, triumphantly holding up her final card. Link had three more cards, and Zelda was nowhere near winning.
Link gave Zelda a look of regret, before he played a red skip. Zelda gasped at the betrayal, but a smile still tugged at her lips. Mainly because even if she was feeling not the greatest during this game, Link being so dramatic over it definitely elevated her mood.
But now, the fate of the game was held within Dohna’s fingers. If she had a red or a Wild card, then she would win the game.
Dohna looked at the card in the pile, then at her, and back again. After a few seconds of debate than kept both Link and Zelda on edge, Dohna sighed, and drew a card.
Link placed down another red card, leaving two left in his hand. Zelda thought hard about what possible cards he could have in his hand, and what cards Dohna could have. Zelda still didn’t have a yellow, but she did have a card she pulled earlier that she kept for later use…a Wild Draw Four. The first one to be played this game.
It would be risky to play it now, especially if she was called out on having a playable card in her hand. But, the others could possibly not remember that they could call her out on that. Although, they could also question her on why she didn’t play it earlier…
Time was of the essence, and if she spent too much time thinking, that could spell trouble for her. She had to make her decision.
“Draw four, Dohna!” Zelda played the card and awaited her friend's response. Her friend gasped sharply, appearing offended—which did make Zelda feel bad—but she didn't challenge the card, drawing the four cards she was cursed with.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me,” Dohna huffed as she drew, “Now Link’s going to win! No offense, of course.” Link gave her a nod, before turning his gaze to Zelda.
“…Oh! Right!” Zelda snapped her fingers, “The color is green, your color, Link!”
Link confidently placed down his next card, a green nine; he had a smug smile on his face as he held up his final card.
The issue of what card to play next bore heavy on Zelda's mind. She knew for a fact that Link didn’t have a yellow, but neither did she. Hopefully, Dohna had that in mind as she played her card, but Zelda? What should she do for this turn…
Dohna then suddenly spoke up, getting Zelda out of her own head.
“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘Uno’ once you have one card?” She questioned, “And I believe that the penalty for not doing that is to draw two cards, no?”
Link looked shocked, and pointed over at the rule pamphlet, that was still at Dohna’s side. She gladly gave it over to him, and Link stuck his nose right in it.
“Well,” Zelda said, “That's correct, but we don’t have to play by those—” Link held up a hand, stopping her. He sat up and gave the rules back to Dohna.
“Next time,” Link told the two, voice scratchy as he spoke. He grabbed two cards, and now Zelda was a bit less worried about the game ending so soon.
The game went on, and Zelda was slowly chipping away at her cards, and gaining more info on what her fellow players don’t have. For one, Dohna definitely doesn’t have a red. Even with the with the four cards Zelda made her draw, only two of them seemed to be reds; one of those reds was also a Skip card, so only one more red Skip was in play.
Link could have some yellows in his hand now, but he ran out of blues already. Zelda had at least one of each color—except for the titular yellow, of course.
And then, at last! Zelda got down to a singular card.
“Uno!” She cheered. Then, her gaze shifted towards Dohna, who held two cards in her hand. With a smirk, she placed down one of her own cards.
“Uno,” Dohna said.
Sweat was pouring down Zelda's face. If she didn’t win, then Dohna would. Not like that would be a bad thing, Zelda had to remind herself, but she felt a competitive urge to win.
It was rather late in the night, with only a few lamps scattered about, barely setting the room alight. Perhaps that aided in the tension. Or perhaps she was simply tired from the time and all of the activity beforehand.
Link set down a green six, and all Zelda could feel was dread. With the best poker face her sorry state could manage, she looked down at her hand.
A blue one.
She drew a card with a shaking hand, gaining a yellow card at last. She only looked at Dohna after calming down as much as she could in the span of two seconds. Zelda had to remind herself that this was just a silly little card game; a silly little card game, and nothing more.
Dohna had to draw a card herself, and Zelda nearly cheered.
A quiet, soft voice sounded out, “Uno.”
Link had set down a green Skip, and Zelda felt ill. Which was stupid, she reminded herself, but the reminders didn't help to change her mood.
“Uno,” Dohna said as calmly placed down her card with the most serious expression Zelda had seen her have all night. A blue Skip.
Zelda had a choice to make. She always had a choice to make. She could play her blue card, or her yellow card. Her yellow Skip.
She had to deduce the cards her opponents had, and quickly. Dohna played a blue Skip, what was the chances of her having another blue? And Link, he also had poor luck in gaining yellow cards, but what if gained a yellow earlier, like Zelda had?
The yellow Skip was the safest bet, to her, but even if she survived to the next round, could she even win?
Somehow, that realization that her chances of winning were rather slim, helped lifted a weight off her chest. She became one with the world, and knew only one purpose—to have as much fun as she could. This, and her friends’ enjoyment, was all she needed for the perfect sleepover. How blind she had been before…
“Zelda?” Dohna called out her name, taking Zelda out of her enlightenment.
Zelda blinked a few times, then a small grin reached her face.
“Sorry Dohna!” Zelda giggled, “Uno!” She flung her yellow Skip down towards the discard pile, the card barely landing on it. She quickly fixed the pile so that all the cards were aligned with each other. It had been bothering her before, but now she had to fix it.
Dohna had pouted at Zelda’s play, and after Zelda had fixed the cards, the two girls looked over at what Link would do next.
Link drew a card. He played it and…!
It was a Wild card. A Wild! If Link called out “blue,” than Zelda could win this! She could actually win this!
Zelda gave Link the most pleading eyes she could muster, hoping, praying that Link would somehow understand the exact color she needed.
“The rules state that any card-play suggestions to other players causes the suggester the draw two cards,” Dohna stated plainly, a faint smile on her face.
“I’m not saying anything!” Zelda retorted, “Link can do whatever he wants!”
Link nodded, then said, “Green.”
Zelda almost swore. She grumpily drew a card instead. Yeah, she was losing, one hundred percent she was.
“Time to win, Dohna,” Zelda nearly sighed out.
Dohna laughed. “It appears so, huh?” She played her final card…a Wild Draw Four.
“I’ll say that color’s red, now,” Dohna announced, even though she already won—choosing a color Zelda did not have. “Lets see which of you wins between you both!”
Link drew four cards, and he still ended up winning against Zelda, in the end.
“How did I lose so badly?” Zelda questioned to herself, “Did I use up all my luck on my adventure?”
“Maybe!” Dohna laughed, “Maybe not. But I had fun, but that might be because I had all the luck tonight.”
“Hogged it,” Link stated. Zelda laughed, it did seem that Dohna hogged all the gaming luck tonight. Well, for at least a few of the games, at least.
“I had fun too!” Zelda cheered, “I think this was a great sleepover too!”
Link corrected her, “Perfect,” he said in an even more scratchy voice than earlier.
“It seems like someone should go to his voice therapy lessons, hm?” Dohna pointedly stared at Link, who looked at her directly in the eyes and shrugged. Zelda giggled again.
“But yes, it was—” Dohna yawned, “—the perfect sleepover.”
Zelda yawned as well. “And now,” she told her friends, “it’s time for the sleeping part of the sleepover!”
They all cheered, sleepily, sending each other into a fit of giggles. Zelda got out the sleeping bags for the three of them—her cat was to keep her bed warm—and they all got into the bags, drifting off to sleep.
The one where Warriors and Wild learn Skulltulas are Poisonous
Read on Ao3 - The first of my submission for the ‘For the TriForce’ Fic Fight 2026!! @forthetriforce
Summary: What it says on the tin. Plus, they have a little talk
Fic under the cut:
Now that that stupid dungeon room was finished, Warriors couldn’t help but wonder what waited in store for them next. And since neither of them had been in dungeons like this, it was essentially walking straight into the unknown.
Why no one had brought up the fact beforehand, he’ll never know.
Wild had gone silent since they entered the long stone corridor. Maybe Warriors was too proud to admit it, but the Champion had been a huge help in that last room. He’d been quick on his feet, and even quicker in his strategy. Had Warriors been by himself back there, he might not be standing now. So maybe the two of them hadn’t been such a bad pair-up after all.
At the very least, it was a lot harder to look at Wild in any sort of bad light, even after the fight with the Iron Knuckle. There was still plenty he disagreed with when it came to the Champion, and perhaps there always would be. But the air between them had been thick and tense; now it was so much lighter after their bit of exchange -Something in common other than this mysterious quest and that dastardly Shadow.
It was still a quiet affair, their little duo. This temple was almost made as if to amplify every sound, every breath. Unnecessary chatter felt unwelcome, and Warriors was raised to be respectful and reverent in holy sites. Even if this one was swarming with monsters.
The hall finally opened into a circular room; a dead end. In the middle sat a dusty old chest, not unlike the one Hyrule had found near the entrance of the temple. It was very conspicuous.
Wild moved to step into the room, though Warriors stopped him before he could get any further.
“It could be a trap.”
The Champion paused. “Oh, that’s true. I’m used to chests being rewarded for solving my Shrines.”
Scanning the room, nothing struck him as odd. Nothing ready to drop from the ceiling. The walls were clear of sigils and curses. Then, dropping down to the ground to check the height of the flagstones, none stood out as looser or taller than the others. Either the room was just as it seemed, or the hidden pressure plate was very professionally installed.
Well, why not check it out, then?
They walked slowly, Warriors setting the cautious pace, ready to spring into action at any indication of a trigger going off. Luckily, the Champion followed his lead and stayed a pace behind him, his feet even lighter on the stones, barely present.
The chest just sat there, innocently waiting. Upon reaching it, Warriors checked again for anything off. Call him paranoid, but he hadn’t lived this long without (at least most times) thinking things through.
Warriors set his hand on the latch. Then, flipped it open. He was expecting, perhaps, a ‘click’ of a mechanism, or a tripwire pulled taut that led to something else.
For all his caution, he somehow wasn’t expecting whatever was inside to jump out at him and sink its teeth into his forearm.
“Ack!” Warriors jumped back, half out of surprise, and half out of fear, not for any true pain. Frantically, he swung his arm back and forth to knock it off. The skulltula held firm.
“Captain!”
Warriors held still long enough for Wild’s arrow to pierce through its body and force it off him. The skulltula shrieked and convulsed on the ground before shriveling up and going still. He stared at it for another moment before it disappeared in a plume of smoke as all monsters did.
It was unlike the ones he was used to. Whereas the ones from his era seemed to be made of gold, this looked as if born from a real skull, with only its legs ringed in gold. And killing it usually left some kind of reward. This one died as simply as any other monster. Very strange.
Wild put his bow away, walking up to the Captain and gesturing for him to surrender his arm. He complied, letting Wild look over him. “It bit you?!”
“Yep.” Somehow, it had done so by sinking its fangs right through the leather and in between the metal plates of his vambrace. Two little red dots marked his arm. Certainly smaller than he would’ve guessed its fangs were, but they’d never tried to bite him before, so he never thought too hard about it before. “I might have overreacted a bit.”
“You sure you’re alright? I’ve never seen a… monster like that.” Wild paused, twisting Warriors’ arm this way and that. “Its legs kind of remind me of a Guardian.”
The Captain pulled his arm back to himself. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine. It barely stings.” He reassured, “Those are skulltulas. Though mine are golden, usually harmless, and always leave some kind of treasure behind. But it doesn’t look like it did. How inconsiderate.” Just to make sure, he leaned over to peer inside the chest and… oh well, there was a little something in there.
Sitting at the bottom of the chest lay a key, one that looked remarkably in the image of the strange Skulltula. Not a boss key. But a key nonetheless. He reached in and grabbed it without any fanfare.
They had not come across any locked doors on their path, and since they now reached the end, it must be for one of the other heroes' group. They’d have to turn around and head back to the Central Room and hope that everyone else would meet up as well.
Warriors relayed to Wild, who easily agreed.
Back to the center of the temple.
- - -
It wasn’t long after that before the bite started itching. Wild had noticed, though he was trying to pretend he hadn’t, trusting the Captain’s word. Which was still true. It didn’t hurt; it wasn’t halting their progression forward. It was just annoying. He was used to his burn scars acting up at the most inopportune times, and knew how to handle them. This little bite would be no different. However, Warriors still let himself fall out of step with Wild, trailing behind him rather than beside. He still couldn’t help but think he was rubbing at it too much. Not scratching, mind you, but just rubbing the edge of the bite. It helped. And after all, he knew better.
But clearly he didn’t, as the itch grew warm until the warmth almost felt a bit too warm. Until it burned almost as if he drew his arm too close to an open flame. It was bringing back memories of Volga. Of the burn scars that ran down his dominant arm. That had not been a fun recovery; even still, the scars tugged and pulled and made the skin never feel like his own.
How long had they been down here, again? They’d made it through at least three rooms filled with monsters, one with a puzzle, the stupid ‘fake chest’ room… It had been a few hours by now. Overall, they hadn’t truly been exploring all that long. They were already doubling back, too.
But then why had he grown so exhausted? Those first few rooms should merely have been a warm-up. Warriors had marched across the country in worse weather conditions, wounded from battle, and with much less sleep before. Then again, he’d never had a Wild to keep this close an eye on before. But wait… Wild hadn’t really been any trouble thus far. He’d actually been great; there was much less babysitting than he’d been planning to do and much more quiet camaraderie, fighting side-by-side like he would do with any other knight. Even though Wild was far from the average knight. Didn’t even wear chainmail or armor.
Man, Warriors really wanted to pull off his vambrace. It was feeling a little tighter than usual. Had he tightened it too much when readying himself this morning? Taking it off would help with some of the heat, wouldn’t it? Maybe he could loosen his scarf a bit, as well. Nor was the chainmail doing him any favors…
“Hey!”
Warriors blinked, and suddenly Wild was standing directly in front of him, clamping his hands on his shoulders. “Hmm?” How had he turned around so fast? Of course he was an agile thing, but Warriors hadn’t even seen him move.
A hand went to his forehead. “You’re burning up. Give me that arm.”
“Bossy.”
Wild grabbed it himself. When his fingers brushed the bite, it sent sharp pain both down his fingertips and up to his neck. Warriors tried to pull away. Wild frowned and held on tighter. “Hold still.” Deft fingers began working on unbuckling his vambrace. Oh, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing, it was rather warm down here. Somehow. He wasn’t sure.
Vambrace off. Sleeve rolled up. The sudden lack of pressure over the bite felt like a breath of fresh air. But also kind of like a terrible thing. The fire did ebb or smother out, it merely looked for more to devour. It hurt. Where the two little dots had sat, were now two really red, really angry welts. His forearm was swollen, too, no wonder it was so sensitive.
Wild frowned, “That thing must have been poisoned. Captain, let’s sit down. You look like you’re about to end up down there anyway.”
He had enough sense to be offended. But not quite enough to act on the suggestion. Wild grabbed hold of his uninjured arm and led him to rest on the floor. But supposedly that wasn’t enough for him.
The Champion continued to fuss over him, muttering under his breath as he did so. First were his pauldrons, his gloves, and pulling off his overtunic. Then came the fighting with his chainmail until Warriors was able to show him that it too, had a buckle to unstrap first.
In the matter of a few minutes, the only article of clothing on his torso was his undertunic. His limbs felt like they were tied to millstones when finally, he was leaned against the wall, which was all chilled and rough as stone could be. Every muscle was weary and tired. He felt as if he’d just taken on an army by himself.
The wound (the bite?) on his arm was hot and he could feel his heart thrumming in his arm instead of his chest. Except now, the lack of his layers made him feel cold cold cold everywhere else. Of course it was; stupid underground tunnels were drafty and hardly well-heated. Where his flesh met the air felt bitter and made him shiver, though the blood underneath his skin felt fit to boil. That was great. He was burning alive but would die out in the cold.
Woe was life. Everything sucked.
However, he had to admit that the cold seemed to bring some sense back to him, brightening the fog that had begun to settle over his thoughts.
‘Poison.’ The horrid Skulltula had been venomous. Whoever’s time that thing belonged to was going to hear some words. If Warriors makes it out of here, the nine of them are going to have a meeting and go over each and every era’s monsters and how to properly fight them. At the very least, a heads-up about poisonous creatures would have been nice.
Well. Whoever was familiar with these Skulltulas, if any of them actually were, was not here. Any knowledge on how to treat the bite did not lie with Wild and himself. There was no room for experimenting, either. A wrong herb might have an adverse reaction rather than a positive one.
He was truly in unknown waters here.
“Go get help… I’m not going anywhere.”
Wild shook his head. “No, they’ll notice we’re not there soon, right? I’m sure they’re all heading back to the start already. Help is coming.”
Warriors frowned. No, that was an empty promise. There was no way to know if any of the other paths were as straight forward as theirs had been. The other groups might still be venturing down, and they were all blissfully unaware of Warriors’ situation. “No there’s not. You have to, have to grab them-”
“I’m not leaving you here! No one deserves to die… alone.” His voice trailed off. Before he caught himself and hurriedly added on: “Not that you’re going to die! You’ll be fine, you will be fine.”
“Sit down.” He commanded, voice shaky and tone not as stern as he might’ve liked. But Wild’s tone was resolute, and even Warriors knew not to fight someone so determined. “If you’re not going to leave, come sit with me then.” While that might’ve signed his death warrant, something deep down assured him otherwise. He couldn’t name the source of it, but peace greeted him as Wild settled on the ground beside him. While it sucked, this bite wouldn’t claim him.
Silence demanded the moment. So there they simply sat. Wild was fidgety, though that was nothing new. Warriors half expect him to change his mind and bolt down the hallway for help. But he didn’t. Instead, he bundled up his scarf (Warriors did not know when he had unwrapped it from his neck) and set it next to his side. Slowly, the Champion took his injured arm to set it on the new cushion. But just that small movement sent sharp pain up his shoulder and neck, and made needle points dance on his fingertips. He might’ve cried out. He wasn’t sure.
Warriors closed his eyes just to focus on breathing.
Eventually, the pain began to ebb. The arm was still burning, spreading from his wrist to elbow. It wasn’t as concentrated as before, less like fire, more like a hot day in the sun. Still uncomfortable.
This was like being sick with the bonus perk of being injured. And naturally, Warriors hated being either of the two.
“Remind me not to get poisoned again.” He mumbled into Wild’s shoulder.
Wait…
Warriors forced his eyes to blink open, and found himself leaning heavily against the Champion. Whoops. He didn’t mean to black out, of course. And he surely didn’t mean to cuddle with Wild. Was this… did this count as cuddling?
The thoughts were met with laughter. “No, I wouldn’t count this as cuddling.” Wild teased. Dangit, had he said that outloud? “I only cuddle with Wolfie."
Warriors hummed in response. Good.
With that sorted out, the Captain nearly fell back asleep. Until…
“Y’know, I forget sometimes.” Wild said suddenly, warding off the silence. “That all of you have lived painful journeys, and you all bear scars, whether visible or not. But you’re the only other one who’s been burned like I have. I can’t believe I’d forgotten about that.”
Oh. Warriors looked down at his arm.
It was kinda gross, right now, actually. All swollen and red, burning and… anyway. But the scars from the fire attack still sat etched in his skin. Ragged and messy. Carved without care and left to heal in a way that was never quite right. Warriors couldn’t blame Wild for forgetting about them, because Warriors tried his best to make the world, including himself, forget about them.
Long sleeves, even in the summer, luckily the nobles just wore lightweight clothes, not less of them. Even with nightclothes and undershirts; if the cuffs sat over his knuckles, it was all he could ask for. Gloves when he could. His arm was bundled up whenever it could be. It was not the kind of heroic, courageous scar that one might think it was.
Wild’s scars were all that. He had faced his foe and proven his courage and determination. They were a testament to his victory over certain death itself.
Warriors’ were none of that. They were due to a lack of action. Others had to come to his rescue. And then he had been utterly useless while in the infirmary healing. Even now, he would hardly say he was back at one hundred percent.
The wound had changed him.
His dominant hand wasn’t as nimble as it once was. His handwriting looked different now, if only by a little. He fumbled with his sword in battle more times than he cared to admit. He had not even dared to try to pick up a needle again, not for quick mends, or for sutures, let alone for the elegant needlework he’d once begged his mother to teach him.
It was pitiful, really. He was pitiful.
“So, what about you, Captain?”
“Hmm?” Oh, had he missed something?
Wild took a slow breath, measured and steady. “In five years? Where do you want to be?”
He supposed that was kind of a loaded question, wasn’t it?
If the question was asked when Warriors was 17, at the start of the war, the truthful answer would be that he didn’t think he had five years to look forward to. It was a blessing in and of itself to make it to camp each night with the prayer of just one more day repeating on his lips. He was inexperienced. Impulsive. Surely nothing more than cannon fodder that would fall to the enemy.
And yet, here he was.
Even one year ago, the question would have been simple: At the castle performing his duties. Maintaining peace. Helping Hyrule recover from the aftermath of war.
Now, it wasn’t all that different. But Wild’s answer had made him think. Anything he wanted to pursue in the future was missing a vital piece. He’d known it all along, but perhaps he had never wanted to truly admit it. But first…
“I think I’ll probably become even closer to a stuffy noble than I already am. Filling out paperwork and being stuck inside while all the younger knights get to goof off. Maybe yelling at them to quiet down from my office window.” Warriors paused as Wild laughed again. Well, now it's time to get serious, “But before I get that pleasure, well… I want to keep rebuilding my home. Restore it to the glory it was before the Great War broke out. Make sure every unnamed soldier that fell does not remain as so; each and every one will be properly honored.
“And…” Man, was he really going to say this? “I’ll, I’ll be with Zelda. Working alongside her, until my dying breath.” He felt the heat rise to his face. It was the fever, not a blush.
Wild grinned down at him anyway, “Hey, you took my answer! You truly are a sap, aren’t you?” He sighed and leaned back. The smile faded from amusement to a soft one. “I guess we’re more similar than I thought, then.”
Hmm. Well, he supposed they were both doing the best for their kingdoms, trying to rebuild what had been torn down, and upholding their oaths. Sure, the Champion could get on his nerves at times. He could be reckless and impulsive at the worst of times. And loved to completely disregard his orders if he disagreed.
But Warriors had been 17 once, too. And if he looked closely, he could see bits and pieces of himself in the Champion.
If a prompt says something like 'windwaker link goes to the beach' can we write about lu!wind and just not gift it or would it have to be specifically for that game's link?
You can absolutely write it as LU Wind! Consult the players gift card to see if they would like a LU gift to see if your take is giftable.
hi, i was just looking at the sheet that has the prompts listed, and there’s no ‘do not wants’ in that section? does this mean no one has specified any boundaries for gifting or are they somewhere else?
The main sheet has multiple tabs! Home, All Prompts, All Works, and Gift Cards. You want the last one!
With just a little more than a day left to sign up, if you've been putting off your entry until the last minute... that is now. We have officially reached the last minute.
And if you are just finding out about the event right now, then it's fortunately not too late. All information can be accessed through the pinned post on this blog.
This 2026 event will be running in July, from the first to the last day in the GMT time zone for all scheduling purposes. Unless otherwise stated all deadlines are by end of day (23:59) in GMT.
Event Announcement: June 1st
Prompt Submissions Open: June 1st
Discord Server Opens: June 15th
Prompt Submissions Close: June 25th
Teams Assigned: June 26th
Prompts Revealed: June 27th
Posting Begins: July 1st
Event End: July 31st
Discord Server Closed: August 1st
The following is a list of questions that we have been—or expect to be—asked by more than one participant. They are grouped into general topics, so scroll to the appropriate header before looking for a specific question.
What Can I Write?
Is [specific sub fandom] allowed to participate?
Yes, absolutely! This event is open to any and all iterations of the Legend of Zelda and all related fandoms.
Can I create for [specific ship]?
You may! As long as the work for each prompt fill engages with the prompt, there is no guidance for or against any ship.
Does ‘any ship’ include Linkshipping?
Any ship means any ship. There is no policy, guidance, or preference for or against any ships. This includes but is not limited to Linkshipping.
What if I write a multichapter fic?
Then that would be amazing! Only posted chapters can be counted for words, however.
Can I add chapters to an already ongoing work for this event?
No, all fills for this event must be new works created off of the prompts. Existing WIPs do not count as prompt fills, no matter how much they happen to ‘fit’ the prompt.
Can I make a work that has [specific content]?
There are no rules against any content, only the requirement that the prompts be filled. We ask that you tag and label appropriately when sharing your work, but we believe in a culture of don't like, don't read here. No restrictions of any kind will be applied to the contents of your work.
Can I make NSFW content?
You may! We do require that you tag and label appropriately to assist your fellow participants in curating their own experience.
What if I'm not comfortable making or engaging with NSFW content?
There is no requirement that you do so. If a prompt is leading in a NSFW direction, you are welcome to either skip the prompt, or to fill it with a SFW take.
What if someone makes [content] off of my prompt and I am uncomfortable with that?
Prompt fills and gift fills are not the same thing and will not be treated as such. If someone violates your gift card on a gifted fill in any way, please inform the event staff. If someone uses your prompt to make a work containing content you find uncomfortable or distressing, but it is not marked as a gift, the event again asks that you adhere to the policy of don’t like, don’t read.
I'm not a writer at all, but I want to play. Can I join?
As this is a writing event, writing is required for participation. That being said, ‘writing’ also includes writing comments.
Wait, comments count?
Yes, they do!
How Can I Make Things?
Can I use AI to help me write or create prompts?
Under no circumstances is the use of generative AI permitted in the completion of this challenge. We say generative AI specifically to permit the use of programs that may otherwise be classified as AI that are assistive, such as spellcheck.
Can I re-post a work I made before this event?
While you can do that in general, if you wish, you can not do so for it to count as a fill of a prompt. All works made for this challenge must be new for this challenge.
Can I combine prompts into one work?
Yes, you may! For back end reasons you will be able to claim up to five prompts in a single fill. Please keep this limit in mind while drafting.
If you are filling more than one prompt, or gifting to more than one person, then you must have a sincere engagement with each prompt and/or appropriate gift for them to count. Please see the rules on fill validity for more information.
Can I use prompts multiple times?
Yes, but they will only count as being filled once when tabulating your progress towards the Triforce (also known as the completion bonus). If you are angling for the team completion bonuses, repeating the same prompt will not help you.
So About Posting…
Where do I post my work?
You may post your fills on either AO3 or Tumblr.
When do I post my work?
You must post your work between July 1st and 31st in order for it to count as a fill and earn points.
What tags do I use?
On AO3 you must tag your work appropriately as per the archive's tag policies. There is no official AO3 tag for this challenge, but there is a collection.
When sharing your work on Tumblr or other social media, we ask that you tag your work #forthetriforce.
An AO3 Collection?
Yes, there is an official AO3 collection for this challenge! All information pertaining to that collection specifically can be found on the collection profile page.
Does it have to be on AO3 to 'count'?
No, it does not. It must be posted on either AO3 or Tumblr and claimed in the claim submission form.
Will you share my work?
If the event blog is formally notified, with an @ mention, then yes. We will not be scrolling through any Tumblr tags (not even the official #forthetriforce tag) to look for fills to reblog, primarily due to the instability of the Tumblr tag search system.
I Have A Question Not Here!
No worries! Please feel free to send an ask to this blog with your questions.
For full detail on all event rules, regulations, and the fic scoring system, please refer to this document.
Short, condensed guidelines for writing in this event are as follows:
All works in this event must be made in response to prompts submitted for the For the Triforce 2026 Fic Fight Event.
Submission of prompts by the deadline (June 25th) is required to participate as a writer in this event.
All works must be tagged and rated appropriately as per the policies of AO3.
Generative AI may not be used in any way during any part of the writing, revising, or editing processes of either prompts or fills. We say generative AI specifically to permit the use of technologies that are assistive that may otherwise be classified as AI such as spell check and voice to text.
