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The battle commences!
Summary:
Demise's pet gets mad at the Zeldas. Commence boss music.
Warnings for violence, injury, and monster-related peril.
Red and purple veins throbbed around a sickly orange iris. Shadows rose and danced from its gleaming black pupils. Blood from ruined eyes oozed down its cheek. The massive eye swiveled down at them, and the monster opened its maw.
It shrieked.
The air itself distorted and storm clouds gathered. Solid as the Surface, a wall of sound batted the Zeldas backwards.
Sun splashed, and the world spun. She kept tumbling, rolling over and over, Pain shrieking up her injured arm as she tried to stop her roll.
At last she stopped, gasping, flat on her back.
Lightning flashed in the distance.
She curled on her side in a vain attempt to stop the pain in her arm.
A shout. A scream.
Sun bolted upright as the other girls continued to shout. Something shattered with a deafening chime.
What she found made Sun see red.
The beast had broken free of her seal. Its mangled forelegs clawed at the water, testing and then planting firm, prepared to sprint at them. Wind gusts formed behind it, lifting waterspouts in its wake.
Aurora screamed. She’d tumbled further aside than the rest, and her bow was too far.
Sun had nothing to shield them with, and no time for another seal! Only killing the beast would do.
The dragon clapped broken wings, screamed, and charged.
Footsteps thundered.
Between Sun and Aurora, Athena and Dawn fired light arrows while the smallest princess ran for her own bow, stumbling.
The beast gaped and out sprang a spear fire. Though too far to reach them yet, the fire would incinerate them all if it came much closer.
Sun slammed her fists into the water. She had no plan, only a need.
Three spikes as tall as loftwings thrust up from the water directly in the beast’s path.
The monstrosity lurched aside at the last moment and the arrows struck tattered wings instead. Sun scrambled to her feet.
It turned again to attack.
Faster than Sun could follow, Athena drew out a bomb and hurled it, fuse already lit, straight at the eye. Dusk chased it with a new round of arrows, three at once on her bow.
The monster closed its last eye against the bomb’s blast, and opened again in time to take three piercing arrows. It screamed, a cacophony rage, knocking the two queens off their feet with the gale of sound. The ground shuddered through Sun’s being, like a giant hand grabbing and shaking her. Under Sun’s feet, the foundation of the realm bucked. Waves from the noise pulled at her. She braced herself desperately against it as best she could while plugging her ears.
The dragon thrashed its head, desperate. Furious in defeat, it charged again. Though holy light surged through the beast’s veins, consuming the shadows that had borne it, still it charged in blind revenge. Gold light consumed its head, but still the body lumbered forward, clumsy but determined to take them all out.
It opened it’s maw, the flames within glowing bright.
It knew where to run, where to aim, and the light worked slowly. Its size granted it time enough for one last victory before fading.
Sun cried out as she tried to call on her power. Her limbs refused to move.
Too slow to save them.
They had won, but so would the beast. It would trample them before the light could destroy it.
She stared at the looming doom, exhausted, and wished she could at least save some of the girls, and at least say goodbye to Link. He’d wait at that statue until he died, wouldn’t he?
A flash and a bang cracked beside Sun.
She looked and saw only Echo beside her. With her wand raised high, boxes rose under Tetra’s feet as she ran. The sea captain ran on them, faster than she could on the water. Again came the ear-splitting boom. Tetra aimed and fired, not stopping. Again and again, the sound cracked inside Sun’s skull.
The beast swung at her with its last functioning appendage–its neck. Rather than run or duck, Tetra leapt up off the last box—no, a rising platform—to grab the burning scales, latching on like a parasite.
Echo collapsed beside Sun. She shielded the girl as best she could from the beast’s relentless charge. It would mean nothing in the end.
A different splash at Sun’s feet startled her. One of Tetra's pistols lay there, leaned on her boot. Echo must have been about to use it, but dropped it.
Sun held up the silver device, uncertain how to use the little mechanism.
“Shoot it!” the Captain screamed from the dragon’s neck to Echo, but she could not hear. She must have handed it to her, then taken on the beast as a distraction. This girl was as reckless as Link!
But Echo had pushed too far.
Sun fumbled to understand the device until Hylia’s spirit covered her hands. Hylia guided them, taking in the weapon and its many years of existence, its passage through many hands. It was strange, she thought, to feel love filling her from a weapon, of all things, and yet gold light surrounded them: Hylia’s hands, her own, Tetra’s mother, and grandmother, and great grandmother and…It was love. The need to protect. To aim carefully. To guide the killing blow precisely where it needed to go and nowhere else. Cogs and screws and oil and spirit, it came in a flash of memory. The constructs she had made, the life she had given them.
The silver pistol turned gold in her hands.
“She gave it… where…” Echo groaned, stirring, and she reached out for the gun.
But Sun stood tall. She leveled the barrel at the thrashing beast, hand strong and steady, and aimed at the monstrous eye as it paused to glare down at her.
She pulled the metal latch back, and with a squeeze on thin metal, she sent the gold bullet soaring.
The gun leapt, knocking her arm back into her face, and she hurried to correct herself, to see that Tetra was safe.
The eye burst like ripe fruit striking ground.
The great body thrashed. Smoke and shadow spewed outward, then contracted inward as it died. Tetra dropped through suddenly empty air. Echo’s light shone, and another of her circles appeared below the pirate captain. Tetra bounced, soared, and landed on her feet with a cackling laugh. She landed on the ground and rolled for a moment, then stood with her fist raised, triumphant. As the storm cleared, Tetra raced over to join their straggling band.
“Got the bastard!” she whooped, and she reached out to Sun for her pistol.
Sun gingerly handed it back, arm still stinging from the kick. “A powerful weapon,” Sun admitted with a wince.
“She sure is—wait, Sunny, what the hell did you do to it?” Tetra demanded, and examined it with a squint. Tetra pulled out the other and compared them, one dull silver and the other pristine gold.
“Hylia,” Sun shrugged. She wasn’t sure how else to explain the goddesses choice. It was just right that way.
“Huh,” She hummed to herself. “Guess that’s alright by me, so long as it still works. But how did you fix the dents in it, and the sight’s all …” She stopped talking when Sun caught the pleased smile playing on the captain’s face. “Thanks, Sunbeam.”
“His slimy ass is in a jar small enough to make a fairy weep,” Tetra told the others as they gathered. She patted her pocket with a cocky grin.
“What’s our status?” Athena asked, looking around at the battered group, all mussed hair and sopping clothes. She turned to Sun and scowled. “Is that doing you any good?”
Sun had no idea what she meant until she followed the queen’s gaze to her own arms. The bandages there were unraveling, but her injuries had faded. In fact, she realized with a small startle, all of her injuries faded.
The others noticed too, and checked themselves. Every wound had been healed.
She unwrapped her arm, and retied the stained sailcloth to her hip.
“Thank Hylia,” Dusk muttered a tired but sincere prayer to the goddess.
Sun paused. Was it truly Hylia, she wondered? They carried no potions, and she’d felt no healer’s touch. And for the millionth time she marveled at the fact that within her was… no, best not get lost once again on the strangeness of it—of being a mortal goddess and yet her own self, uncomfortably merging into one soul. Overpowered, erased, yet healed…
Stop! She commanded her fears.
So she accepted the boon, and decided not to question it just yet.
“Alright, Sunshine, where to next?” Tetra stepped aside from Sun with a playful bow.
She closed her eyes and felt for the darkness. “I… I can’t sense anything.”
“I doubt this is all we came for. There must be more out there,” Athena quipped.
Sun tried again, but the malice that had overwhelmed her now sat trapped in Tetra’s pocket, and nothing else alerted her.
Athena’s irritated sigh stung.
“I don't sense anything out there.”
“Is it possible?” Aurora gasped. “Could we really cure the realm?” She seemed, for the first time, convinced it might be possible.
“There’s no way we tackled all of it here.”
“Well, then perhaps you can inform us where to go,” Sun snapped back.
Athena turned away, annoyed but with the dignity to try and hide it.
Dusk sheathed her blade and stood before Sun, and closed her eyes, and held out her hands, expectant. Sun steadied, and obliged. The reassurance of another woman like her, a servant of Hylia wielding light magic like her, brought a comfort she could never have expected. This woman was a stranger, though kind and obviously a blessing to her people. A true leader. Yet she was also a puzzle piece. Sun never knew was missing, suddenly sliding into place. The woman’s assurance bolstered her. She was something more than another servant of Hylia. She was Her. Another ray from the same light, refracted, reflected. Shining back home.
She searched again, this time her senses stronger, magic pouring from her companion. A different sort of atmosphere surrounded her. Calm, dark, steady. A hope shining in the dark. A bonfire in the night. It was power laced with empathy. It was loss, and growth.
Dusk’s magic intertwined with hers, and she drew from it. Hylia’s gold light flared within, grasping the magic of Dusk like a dear friend. Loss was not an end, the song of Dusk’s soul whispered. Something sharp in Hylia cracked, shattered, smoothed. Hylia unfurled ever so slightly, her power reaching Sun.
Sun found the shadow trail.
It was harder to sense now, much further than before, and moving steadily toward the very direction they’d come from.
“It’s making a run for the others.” Sun pointed the way back.
Dusk led the way this time, though they hardly needed any guide. A trail of shadows lay in the mirror of water before them. On the trail of their past, the Zeldas marched together.
An active day in the Era of the Sky is best ended with a cozy campfire and a night of music and reflection. It’s been a long journey so far, but a wonderful adventure all the same.
Author’s Note: At long last, we've reached the end of the fic!!! Thank you all SO much for the love and comments letting me know that something in this story stuck with you. I'm honored to know it brought some smiles! It certainly was a blast on my part, and seeing this through feels like a huge accomplishment. Without further ado, here is the final chapter of this fun little fic. Enjoy some cozy vibes and new beginnings! [Linked Universe belongs to @jojo56830 / @linkeduniverse , and The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo of course.] Happy Reading!
Masterlist | First | Chapter 12
(💚Please comment and like directly from the og post in case Tumblr does weird things again! Tumblr reblogs are ok but Never repost, thanks! <3)
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Hyrule had to admit, the sky really wasn't that bad, aside from the whole "miles above the ground" thing.
Skyloft itself was solid enough, and endlessly charming. The closeness of the townsfolk even reminded Hyrule of the towns back in his own era. A small, secluded haven where everybody knew everyone... it was nice. Plus, he knew he didn't have to worry about anyone secretly being a monster. Even that strange gentleman Batreaux that Wild and he had met in an old house under the island, despite an odd swirl of magic, had turned out to be an exceptionally sweet and helpful guy.
Hyrule had almost laughed at how Batreaux reminded him of the secret coalition of magical elders back in his own time. Batreaux certainly would have fit right in.
The traveler and champion must have explored every inch of Skyloft, spelunking through glittering waterfall caves, climbing towers to reach a giant nest or beautiful platforms, even crawling through the rafters of Sky’s knight academy and accidentally falling into the bath through an old grate. They were beyond grateful that no one was actually using the bath at the time.
“That would have made a splash,” Hyrule smirked. Wild wheezed with laughter as he wrung out his hair beside him.
The rest of the day crept on without incident, barring Wild’s crazy idea to jump off Skyloft and land on a tiny, isolated island that floated on its rim. To Wild’s credit, he did land the jump, but a rescue knight immediately chewed him out and carried him back to the main island. Wild didn’t even look mad as he bragged to everyone that he “technically” rode a Loftwing, and Hyrule—once his own heart had recovered—enjoyed the horrified expressions he got when he added that Wild had jumped off of Skyloft right before his “flight”.
They both agreed to never tell Sky about the stunt for their own safety.
As their explorations crept on, though, Hyrule began to notice the one true downside of touring Skyloft, besides the possibility of falling off the edge. At least if he fell—as proven by Wild—he could count on the rescue knights to catch him, or he could make use of his fairy spell as a last resort. No, this was something he never could have accounted for.
Hyrule felt extremely dizzy. And quite a bit winded, too.
He'd first noticed it while sprawled in the cool grass with several of the cute, cat-like creatures Sky had called 'remlits'. The disorienting, pulsing sense of vertigo had hit him like a moblin as soon as he'd lain down, and even the purring remlits and flower-scented breeze couldn't distract him from his malaise.
For a while, he'd debated if he was simply allergic to these ancient felines. Maybe that was common for people outside of Skyloft? Wild, who'd been playing with the remlits beside him, seemed less affected, but still rubbed his forehead from time to time.
Hurule had almost convinced himself it was the remlits until he and Wild regrouped with the others and promptly discovered that Four had passed out from running around the island like an excited puppy.
Ah, thin air, Hyrule realized as he watched Warriors help the dazed smithy back to his feet. That makes much more sense.
He rubbed his achy head, feeling rather sympathetic towards Sky and his own respiratory issues on the ground. Did Sky feel like this, or at least the inverse of it, all the time, or had he just gotten used to it? How quickly the symptoms had crept up on Hyrule after the adrenaline had worn off also threw him for a loop. Sudden breathing problems meant slowing down to assess the damage, and slowing down meant danger and—
The traveler blinked. Hyrule took as deep of a breath as he could and reminded himself that he was past those hard days. He was safe. His kingdom was better than ever. Old habits died hard, he supposed.
I guess I’m more like Sky than I thought, he realized with a sheepish flush. Hyrule resolved to be a little more understanding the next time Sky got into one of his "too slow" moods.
At this point even Wind was, well, winded, and it was decided quite immediately that they would return to the Surface for supper.
As they waited for Beedle, Hyrule flexed his fingers, wishing his magic could do something for air problems. Sky managed to catch his eye.
"Here," the Skyloftian smiled, handing Hyrule a shimmering, brilliant blue potion. "These used to just be for swimming, but we found that they help if you've been down on the Surface too long and get winded when returning to Skyloft. Can you help me pass some around before someone else passes out?"
Hyrule took the potion and uncorked it, fascinated by the fizz of bubbles that flew to the surface with a hiss. He smiled back at Sky and clinked his bottle against the one in the Skyloftian's hand. "I'm at your service!"
"Good," said Sky, "because I think Warriors is about to eat dirt."
Hyrule laughed as Sky caught the swaying captain's shoulder and forced him to take some of the potion. Seeing that his fellow medic was being attended to, Hyrule glanced at the bottle in his own hands and, curious, took a sip.
The potion felt like breathing in a fresh gulp of air, and tasted of cool, clear, raspberry-tinted spring water with an added fizz. Almost instantly, most of the slog pulsing through his body went away, replaced by oxygen and sharper senses.
Pleasantly surprised, he turned to the now upright captain and held up the bottle. "This stuff's amazing!"
"Yes, quite a medical marvel!" Warriors agreed. "Hard to come by in a war, but perfect for times like these. Oh, Traveler, give some of it to Time, won't you? He's over there acting stoic but I'd recognize that eye twitch anywhere. His stubborn head gets achy from time to time."
Hyrule skipped over to their leader, grinning unapologetically at the way Time frowned at Warriors. "Drink up, Old Man, Captain's orders."
Time's scowl turned playful as he took the bottle. "All this fuss over me. You'll turn me grey for real at this rate." He took a sip, his eyebrows quickly shooting up. "...This is quite pleasant."
"You're welcome," Warriors sing-songed.
After Sky and Hyrule finished passing around the air potions, it wasn't long before Beedle’s air shop arrived over the town. Refreshed and reenergized, it took little effort to climb the rope up to the shop again, and on the way down to the Surface, Hyrule found himself feeling much braver. He even watched the clouds pass by at the railing this time, brightly chatting with Four, Wind, and Wild about all the hidden caves and secrets they had discovered on the fantastical floating island.
As the sun began to turn the creamy clouds rosy, the air shop dipped down once again through the Cloud Barrier, falling gently towards the afternoon-kissed Surface.
>>><<<
It took a little hustling, a little bustling, and getting lost once or twice in the richly forested Faron Woods, but by and by a campfire was lit outside Sky's house, and bedrolls and blankets were distributed throughout.
Sky and Groose laughed as they raced each other to the fire, balancing an obscene number of small pumpkins on their heads. Hyrule felt a sense of pride when Sky won, especially since he'd been balancing the most pumpkins.
Zelda had enlisted Twilight's help in carrying over a large pot to the fire, where he then set it up over the flames so she could begin on some rice. As Zelda stirred and Twilight stoked the fire, Warriors and Four made quick work of chopping the vegetables and herbs that would soon join the rice.
Hyrule grinned when Sky asked for his and Legend's help carving out the pumpkins scattered in the grass. With a practiced hand, the traveler cut open his allotted gourds with ease, and Legend didn't even have to step in once! Hyrule caught the veteran hero eyeing him anyway, but the high-five they shared when their task was complete sent Hyrule's spirit over the moon.
Time and Wind sat alongside them, scooping out the pumpkin guts to save for soup stock for another day. They were getting messier and messier the more seeds they flicked at each other, beaming their matching, childlike smiles all the while.
Wild had a steady rhythm going in the meantime, taking up the gutted pumpkins and escorting them to the stove inside Sky's house. Zelda had given him a crash course in how to bake them, and each time a batch of finished pumpkins was returned to the campfire, the delicious, sweet, smokey smell in the air just got stronger.
Hyrule's mouth could have watered all of Lake Hylia by the time the food was done. Golden, steaming pumpkins filled with rice and vegetables sat tantalizingly before them all, but Hyrule restrained himself from snatching one just yet.
The Skyloftians were a reverent people, and very welcoming, at that. Sky, Zelda, and Groose motioned for the others to all join hands, and after a moment of silence, Zelda led them in a grace. Something about it, maybe Zelda's gleaming magical connection, maybe the promise in the words she spoke, warmed Hyrule's heart. It made him feel so thankful and blessed that he almost forgot about the meal.
Almost.
It didn't stop him from physically leaping to call dibs on the best-looking pumpkin the second the grace was completed, and oh was it worth it.
"This is heavenly," he sighed, mouth full of savory-sweet rice.
Sky grinned. "We did a good job making it together, didn't we? How do you rate it, cook?"
Wild had already finished half his bowl. "Golden. Perfect. I'm stealing this recipe, Sky." The champion danced a bit as he took another bite.
"Won't that create a paradox?" Time teased.
"Not if Sky promises to pass this dish down!" Four suggested. "I certainly will! We'll make stuffed pumpkins historic."
The rancher bit off a chunk of baked pumpkin and hummed in delight. "I'm all for more pumpkin recipes. 'Specially if they taste like this."
"We had a good harvest today," Zelda grinned. "And some cute cooks."
She kissed Sky on the cheek, and Hyrule almost choked on his rice when she stole a spoonful of Sky's food right under his blushing nose. She's just as crafty as he is!
As Legend and Groose made faces at the flirting pair, Wind elbowed Hyrule, mouthing something akin to, "Made for each other". Hyrule had to agree.
Perhaps the lovebirds were getting too much for even Groose, for he soon glanced up at the dimming sunset, shoveled up the rest of his rice, and hopped to his feet. "All right kids, it's been fun, but the Groose has gotta fly!"
"Aww, Groose, you're leaving?" Zelda pouted.
Her disappointment almost swayed the burly knight, causing him to shift from foot to foot, but he steeled himself and nodded his head. "Yep! Sorry, got plans. Gotta see a girl about an item!"
Sky and Zelda instantly brightened. Together, they smirked, and let out a loud, intentionally irritating, "OOOoooOOH!"
"Yeah, yeah," Groose waved them off, ruffling Wind's hair as he walked away. "Keep that good head on your shoulders, kid! Don't let those goofballs drag ya down!"
"Aye aye," Wind saluted.
"I hope you have an engaging experience!" Sky called out to him, eyes as mischievous as a cat’s.
"OH? What's that I hear? You volunteer to be my next test subject for the Groosenator? Why thank you, Link ol' buddy!"
"You know she's gonna say yes!!!" Zelda chimed in.
Groose stumbled, looking back at her in shock. "Wh—Link told you?!?"
Sky held up his hands. "Hey, she figured out what you’re up to on her own, I didn't squawk!"
"Sure!" Groose huffed, the sound not quite matching the giddy grin and blush covering his face.
Sky and Zelda shouted more well-wishes until Groose disappeared around a cluster of trees on his way to the settlement.
Zelda leaned over to Sky. "Is he really asking her tonight?"
Sky grinned. "I actually have no idea, I just like teasing him about it."
Zelda shoved him and giggled into her pumpkin bowl.
"Sky, you're a menace!" Legend laughed, the sound all light and bubbly.
"And that surprises you?" Warriors smirked. Suddenly, the captain's eyes lit up, his face nearly as mischievous as Sky's. "Miss Zelda, that reminds me. Has anyone in our group told you about Sky's elevating experience riding an animal known as a horse?"
"Ah—hah—wait wait wait—" Sky floundered, unable to keep the story from spilling across the campfire in a wave of laughter.
Orange and pink became indigo blue as the stars took hold of the sky. Crickets chirped their melodies on the cool evening breeze, harmonizing with the chorus of rustling leaves and the crackling fire. Empty bowls and full bellies all sat peacefully together, finally resting from the excitement of the day. Compared to all the evenings Hyrule had experienced after terrible battles and taxing adventures, this was probably one of the most relaxing campfires he'd sat beside...
Especially when Zelda pulled out the harp from Sky's bag and began to play.
At first there was no tune. Random notes plucked into the air—likely Zelda getting a feeling for the instrument again after not playing it for a while. Sky set his arm around her shoulder as her notes steadily became more confident and unified. Then, she began practicing chords. The harmony of notes started to flow like a waterfall, down and up and down in a way that soothed all the heroes’ hearts.
Hyrule wasn't close to her musical level by any means, yet his fingers still itched for his recorder. He and a few other heroes might have grabbed their instruments, too, if Zelda didn't briefly put down her harp and begin to speak.
"So," she fiddled with her hair, "while you were away, Link, I... well I've sort of been working on something. To pass the time and... remind me of you."
She bit her lip, focusing her gaze on the strings instead of on Sky, who looked upon her as if she were his entire world.
Zelda cleared her throat and sat up straighter. "So! I... I'd like to play it. Or at least try to. Maybe you all can give me your opinion."
When her sheepish smile met the other heroes, Hyrule was struck by just how much she reminded him of the first princess he'd rescued, the girl who had later rescued him from a life of lonely wandering. Hyrule met her eye and gave her an encouraging nod. Zelda smiled back at him.
"Play for us, love," Sky murmured, and Zelda set her fingers on the strings.
Music filled the forest.
Hyrule's heart skipped a beat.
That—it couldn't be...
He glanced around at the other heroes to prove he wasn't crazy. Wonderstruck eyes met his, all eight of them realizing what song Zelda had just created.
It was slow, hesitant, and flux, with some foreign melodies mixed into the ancient rhythm just now brought into the world. Like a newborn, it floundered and soared with both uncoordinated steps and boundless potential, a potential wrapped up in the three notes that history would never dare to change:
E, G, D.
Mi, So, Re.
Zelda's Lullaby.
When Zelda's clear, angelic voice soothed his ears, dancing along with her harp, Hyrule couldn't help himself. He reached for his recorder and joined in with the parts he knew.
Sky and Zelda, the later of which faltered but kept up her music, glanced up in shock as one by one, the Links joined in.
Time's clear, confident ocarina sang, Four and Warriors playing in soft harmony with him. Twilight and Wild joined their deep and light voices in kind. Wind kept time with his Wind Waker, the sound of distant chimes ringing on beat. Even Legend pulled out his very own harp, glancing at Zelda's fingers to lead him in the tune.
Sky and Zelda looked ready to cry. Holding her tightly, Sky buried his face in her hair, his own deeper register humming along to the melody he'd picked up. Together, they played as one mind, partaking in a tune nearly as old as time itself. It went unsaid how they all knew it, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out, and by the end of the song, Sky and Zelda were wrapped in a tight embrace.
With the camp now quiet, and a few of them silently moving to clean up after dinner, Hyrule watched the people all around him with an awed feeling in his chest.
They were all different, it was true. No one looked at the moon like Time did, or the dusk like Twilight. No one else had Legend’s aches or Warriors's memories of war. Only Wild knew what it was like to be dead for a century. Only Four knew the feeling of splitting apart. Wind alone had experienced life at the mercy of a world of surf and tide.
But despite Sky's struggles with immigrating from Skyloft to the Surface, despite the slow growth from ruin to prosperity back in Hyrule's own time, despite all the differences between all their eras...
Songs like this persisted.
Courage and love persisted.
Time set a blanket around the exhausted lovebirds—the beginning of the royal family—and Hyrule laughed in amazement and how this evening could be so mundane and so important at the same time.
He watched his brothers joke and sneak around the dozing pair like the young adults they were, smiling as all beings did no matter their era or race.
For everything that seems strange and unnatural, different and wonderful...
Hyrule glanced up at the Triforce, finally feeling a sense of peace at its golden light,
...So many things remain the same.
>>><<<
Sky awoke to the chirrup of crickets and a soft breath on his cheek.
Dazed, unsure of just what had woken him, he blinked at the doused fire at his feet. A few dark blobs marked the bodies of the heroes who had chosen to remain outside for the night, each, like Sky, wearing a blanket to ward off the mild chill.
Blearily, Sky frowned down at where he sat propped against a tree. When had this blanket gotten around him? Where was...
Zelda's breath brushed his face again as she curled closer into his side. Sky's heart fluttered.
Oh. Right. My era.
Sky sunk back into her presence, letting his heavy eyes close over the sight of a distant shooting star.
"Like a tradition..." Zelda breathed out. Her words carried some sort of weight that Sky was too tired to understand. She was silent for a while after that, long enough that Sky almost fell back asleep, until she took another breath to speak.
"So our daughter could be a Zelda too?"
That got Sky up. "H-Huh???"
"Shh, it was only a question," Zelda brought his head back down onto hers. "I mean, after the wedding. When we have babies? If one's a girl... Zelda. It seems strange, but fits, too. Maybe... maybe Zel, or Zellie? That one's cute..."
Sky wished he was more lucid so he could better appreciate this line of thought. Lightly, he kissed her head and drew her closer. "'S perfect."
"Zellie... we'll need a crib and things for her..."
"I'll build us some."
"And clothes... I bet my father's still got all of mine from when I was little."
"Don't doubt it, he's a sentimental guy."
"Mmmhmm... that leaves something from me then."
Sky bumped her forehead with his nose. "Like being a good, strong mother? M'think you'll have that covered."
"That's sweet," she blushed. "But it should be something... more." She reached her arm around him, fingers brushing the rim of the harp that had fallen beside them. "Link... I think…” She pulled the harp into her lap, cradling it close with a yearning so strong that Sky could physically feel it. She smiled breathlessly.
"…I think want to give her our song."
Sky felt his chest burst open like an egg, too full of love to stop the emotion from flooding through his body. Feeling it accumulate in his eyes, he blinked rapidly and hid his face in Zelda's shoulder.
"Oh Zelda," he whispered to her tenderly. "Somehow it feels like it was hers all along."
"And it's a lullaby..."
"For our little princess."
"Zellie, or Zelda."
Sky met her lips and kissed her slowly, sleepily drinking in the moment. It felt like a cornerstone of his world had just shifted into place. He pulled back after a while and smiled at her. "S'perfect. You're perfect."
"W-well I definitely don't know about that," she flushed. "But this moment right here?" She sighed against his chest, hugging him tightly. "It feels pretty perfect to me."
Sky melted into her embrace, already feeling himself drifting into sweet dreams. Strange new worlds, unknown futures... they didn't worry him as much as they once did. In his half-lucid state, he could have sworn he saw them: the princesses that his brothers held dear, all their triumphs over evil and their smiles in the end. Knowing, trusting the heroes of all those eras like he did now, Sky had no doubt that his descendants—his and Zelda's, he thought giddily—would be well looked after.
The future would come as it would, and together, they would meet it. Never mind curses or mistakes. The Surface was a place of boundless opportunity and new life, all of it sitting before them to pursue at their own pace. And now Sky had witnessed the promise that one day, far, far in the future, despite hardships and war, the land would still be standing in the light.
The nighttime sounds whispered a soft, natural lullaby to Sky and his beloved, soothing the Skyloftians into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Tomorrow, he knew, would be another grand adventure.
>>><<<
End of Fic!
Masterlist | First | Chapter 12
Author's Note: Here we are at last! Thank you all again, this journey through the cultures of the Surface and the Sky has been SO much fun, and it's been made even more exciting by all of you tagging along for the ride! It's on to other Zelda art and stories from here, and you can expect my love of Linked Universe and Skyward Sword to permeate it, ha! Cheers, y'all!
As a bonus, here's what the others were up to in Skyloft:
Warriors: Made a beeline for the Sparing Hall ever since hearing about it from Sky's peers, and made fast friends with Eagus. He even grabbed some great tips for teaching others sword techniques. Then he went to sit in the shade and pet a remlit after feeling the thin air start to hit him hard (he used up his air on sword drills, poor guy).
Wind: Followed Wars to the Knight Academy but broke off to find Owlan, as per Sky's suggestion. Wind asked him all about Loftwings and gained a LOT of info from the instructor, and the more he learned the more his fear left and his admiration grew. Afterwards he explored a bit and ended up playing random games with the Skyloftian kids in the Plaza (and kept an eye on Warriors).
Four: Ran around like a crazy person, exploring everywhere and investigating everything. He would have joined Hyrule and Wild but they didn't share his desire to talk to every single townsperson about all they knew/had lived. He dragged Legend around for a bit before wandering by himself, maybe finding some Sky Minish, and breaking into the Knight Academy library. After running around some old ruins he passed out right in front of Warriors from the thin air.
Legend: Started tailing Four but couldn't/didn't want to keep up, and trusted the smith could handle himself. Legend also talked with several Skyloftians but in a more pleasant, casual way, and poked around in the market for a bit (he enjoyed haggling with Rupin and getting on his nerves maybe a little too much). He ended up joining Wind and playing a few games with the Skyloftian kids.
Twilight: Made it his one and only mission to pet every remlit on Skyloft. He amassed a remlit army, and for a while became their favorite Hylian, much to his delight. After having his heart stopped for the 50th time when Sky demonstrated that remlits could fly (why would you explain that only after you've thrown the cat off Skyloft, Sky?!?), he did enjoy tossing them directly up in the air and catching them as they floated down to him. Later he joined up with Time and tried some of Piper's soup in the Bazaar, and they both marveled at how rich it tasted even without dairy.
Time: Went for a peaceful walk as Twilight cooed over the remlits, taking in the quiet wind and gentle atmosphere. He enjoyed people watching for a while, and was the only one of their group to catch a glimpse of where Sky and Zelda had snuck off too after they'd given everyone a tour, much to his amusement. He got roped into helping carry some barrels and doing other odd jobs along with Twilight before they both ended up getting a snack at the Bazaar.
Sky and Zelda: After showing everyone around, laying some ground rules, and letting them split off to explore, the couple quickly found a secluded spot near the eastern windmill to smooch each other silly Ahem, I mean, appreciate being back in their childhood home again. >u< They then went to check up on Gaepora and had a lovely reunion with him as Link caught him up to speed on his adventures =)
Thanks again for reading!!! <3
Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!
(💚Please comment and like directly from the og post in case Tumblr does weird things again! Tumblr reblogs are ok but Never repost, thanks! <3)
I'm a proshipper. I've said it before and I'll keep saying it. But because antis love to treat that word like a moral failing and because I believe in actually being able to back up my positions, here is the full, cited, thorough version of why I hold this stance—and why the arguments against it consistently fall apart under scrutiny.
Read it. Reblog it. Argue with it in good faith or don't engage at all.
what proshipping actually is
Let me start here because antis love to strawman this.
Proshipping is the position that fiction is not reality, that engaging with dark, taboo, or morally complex themes in creative work does not constitute real-world harm, and that people should not be harassed, doxxed, or driven off platforms for the content of their fictional creative output.
That's it. It's a media literacy position. It is not—despite what antis insist—an endorsement of real-world harm, abuse, exploitation, or illegal activity. The conflation of fiction with reality is the entire foundation of anti rhetoric, and it is a foundation that does not hold up when you actually look at the research.
"fiction causes real-world harm"—does it?
This is the central claim. If it falls, the rest of the anti argument collapses with it. So let's look at it.
The relationship between media consumption and real-world behavior is one of the most studied questions in social science. And the honest answer, which researchers themselves acknowledge, is: it's complicated, contested, and the effects are far smaller and more conditional than anti rhetoric implies.
A 2007 review in Psychiatric Times by Christopher Ferguson found that claims of scholarly consensus on media violence causing real-world harm are false—surveys of researchers who actually study media show that only a minority believe media violence meaningfully contributes to societal violence. The stronger claims (that 10–30% of societal violence is caused by media) have been described by scholars as significant overstatements, with effect sizes in studies often being small, methodologically contested, and heavily dependent on pre-existing individual risk factors rather than content alone. Ferguson's work also highlights that newer theoretical models—Self-Determination Theory and Mood Management Theory—suggest viewers actively select media to meet their own goals, and that behavior is driven by those goals and existing psychological states, not primarily by content.
Even the studies that do find a correlation between media violence and aggression acknowledge the effect size is modest—roughly a 0.20 to 0.30 correlation—and that this is not the same as causation. Correlation of that size, across a population already saturated with violent media, does not translate to "this content made this person do this thing." It reflects a complex web of individual factors, environment, mental health, social support, and pre-existing tendencies in which media is one minor variable among many.
A Psychology Today essay by Jonathan Gottschall cuts to the point well: fifty years of determined searching for clear real-world consequences of fictional violence has not produced the smoking gun anti censorship advocates want. We live in a media environment saturated with violence, dark themes, morally repugnant characters, and taboo content—and the evidence that this is producing a population of people who act out what they consume is, at best, weak and contested.
The catharsis theory—the idea that consuming dark content releases rather than encourages harmful impulses—has also been part of this debate for decades. While it hasn't been proven definitively either, the point is that the relationship between fiction and behavior is not the simple one-way causal pipeline antis present it as.
the jaws problem—or, be careful what you blame fiction for
Here is one of the most cited examples in this debate, and I want to be precise about it because the popular narrative is significantly more complicated than it's presented.
The conventional wisdom is that Jaws (1975) caused widespread shark killings—that Spielberg's film so terrified the public that fishermen went out and decimated shark populations, and that this represents a clear case of fiction causing real-world harm.
Steven Spielberg himself has expressed regret about this, stating in a 2022 BBC interview that he fears sharks are "mad at him" for what happened to their populations after 1975. Peter Benchley, the author of the source novel, spent the rest of his life in shark conservation and publicly wished he'd never written the book.
That's the emotional narrative. Now here's what the evidence actually says.
Conservation writer and shark researcher Paul Cox, chief executive of the Shark Trust, told The Guardian that blaming shark population decline on Jaws is "giving the film far too much credit." He stated clearly: "The cases of shark population decline are very clearly fisheries overfishing."
The site Shark Files, examining what they call "The Jaws Myth," makes this case in detail. Of approximately 100 million sharks killed annually by human activity, the vast majority are killed by the shark fin trade (at least 73 million deaths driven by economic demand for shark-fin soup, primarily in markets where Jaws has little to no cultural penetration), industrial bycatch from fishing trawlers, and unregulated long-line fishing operations in the Pacific—none of which have any discernible connection to Jaws or public perception of sharks as villains.
The piece also makes an important historical point: fear of sharks did not begin with Jaws. Newspaper archives from the 1950s and before are full of "killer shark" and "monster shark" coverage. The idea that Spielberg created fear of sharks from nothing denies decades of pre-existing sensationalism.
This matters for the proship argument because the Jaws example is often deployed as proof that fiction straightforwardly causes real harm. The actual picture is: the primary drivers of harm were economic and industrial, operating independently of the film's cultural impact. The fish and seafood industry does not kill sharks because people are afraid of them from a movie. It kills them because there is money in it.
When you look at the Jaws case carefully, what you find is a messy overlap of cultural fear, pre-existing attitudes, economic incentives, and industrial practices—and attributing the majority of the harm to the film requires ignoring the much larger, much more structural causes. This is, incidentally, exactly what happens when antis attribute real-world harm to fiction: they point at the visible, emotionally resonant cultural artifact and ignore the actual drivers.
attraction ≠ action: the paraphilia research
This is where anti rhetoric does the most damage, and where the research is most unambiguous.
The anti position implies that people who consume or create content depicting taboo sexual themes are either acting out urges, normalizing harm, or on a pipeline toward real offending behavior. This claim is not supported by the evidence.
The DSM-5 itself makes a crucial distinction that anti rhetoric ignores entirely. It separates paraphilia (an atypical sexual interest) from paraphilic disorder (a paraphilia that causes distress or harm). The DSM-5 explicitly states: "A paraphilia is a necessary but not a sufficient condition for having a paraphilic disorder, and a paraphilia by itself does not necessarily justify or require clinical intervention." Having an unusual sexual interest is not the same as having a disorder. Having a disorder is not the same as offending.
A 2023 study by Vander Molen, Ronis, and Benoit published in Sexual Abuse (PMC: 10189825) examined the factors that distinguish individuals who act on paraphilic interests from those who don't. The key finding was that moral disengagement—not the interest itself—was the distinguishing factor in those who moved from interest to harmful behavior. People who have unusual attractions and maintain empathy, self-control, and moral reasoning tend not to act on them harmfully. The attraction alone does not predict behavior.
MedicineNet notes plainly: "While most people with paraphilia do not sexually offend, and sexual offending is not a mental illness, people who commit sexual offenses sometimes also have paraphilia." Not all paraphilias lead to harm. Not all offending is driven by paraphilia. The relationship is not the pipeline antis describe.
A 2016 peer-reviewed paper by Cantor and McPhail in Current Sexual Health Reports (published through Johns Hopkins) examined non-offending individuals with pedophilic attraction—people who experience attraction to minors but have not offended and do not access illegal material. Their conclusion: this population exists, is substantially larger than recognized, and the conflation of attraction with offending is a "common misperception." The existence of this population directly undermines the idea that having an attraction automatically leads to harm.
A 2021 qualitative study by Jones, Ó Ciardha, and Elliott in Sexual Abuse examined coping strategies among non-offending individuals with pedohebephilic interests using forum posts. What they found was a community of people actively working to remain offense-free—using strategies like perspective-taking, avoiding high-risk situations, and building social support. One of the most striking findings: societal messaging that pedophiles will inevitably offend was identified by participants as a destabilizing force. Telling people their attractions make them dangerous does not prevent harm—it may increase it by removing hope of non-offending identity.
This research has direct relevance to the content debate: if having an attraction does not automatically lead to acting on it, then consuming or creating fiction that depicts taboo themes is even further removed from real-world harm than antis claim. The pathway from "person with an unusual sexual interest" to "person who commits an offense" requires multiple intervening factors—and fiction is not among the primary ones.
The Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law (2014) also noted that "not every offender's sexually deviant behavior is driven by a paraphilic sexual arousal pattern"—meaning even among people who do offend, the causal link to paraphilic interest is not straightforward. In an analysis of 113 male sex offenders, only 58% had a paraphilic disorder. Real-world offending has complex, structural, and situational drivers that are not well-explained by pointing at what someone reads or writes.
the harassment is the real harm
I want to be clear about what anti behavior actually produces.
The anti community does not prevent harm. It does not protect children. What it produces is:
Doxxing. Real people having their addresses, workplaces, and identities exposed because of what they write.
Harassment campaigns. People being mass-reported, threatened, and driven off platforms.
Psychological harm to survivors. Many of the people antis target for writing dark fiction are **survivors** who process their experiences through creative work. The idea that survivors writing about their own trauma are "normalizing" harm is one of the most cruel inversions of logic in this entire discourse.
Chilling effects on marginalized creators. The antis' targets are disproportionately queer people, women, and other marginalized creators who have historically used fiction to explore experiences that mainstream culture refuses to depict. Dark fiction and taboo ships have always been spaces for people to work through things they can't talk about directly.
The research is clear that empathy, social support, and open channels for processing difficult attractions and experiences are protective factors against harmful behavior. What antis do is the opposite: they stigmatize, isolate, and punish. If their goal were actually child protection rather than moral posturing, they would engage with the actual research on prevention.
fiction has always done this
Let me close with something that should be obvious but apparently needs saying.
Literature has always explored the worst of human experience. Lolita. Crime and Punishment. American Psycho. The works of Marquis de Sade. Greek tragedy, which is full of incest, infanticide, and divine-mandated atrocity. Shakespeare, who gave us murderers, rapists, and monsters with more interiority and sympathy than the heroes. Horror. Dark romance. Gothic fiction stretching back centuries.
The purpose of fiction has never been to depict only what is morally acceptable. It has been to give human beings a safe space to confront what is not—to process fear, examine darkness, understand the psychology of harm without enacting it, and to feel things that reality won't safely allow.
When antis demand that fiction be scrubbed of dark content, they are not making a new argument. Every generation has had its moral panic about the corrupting influence of stories. None of them have been right. The medium changes—novels, films, video games, fanfiction—and the panic follows, and the evidence for the harm always fails to materialize in the way the panickers claim.
The research does not support the anti position. The history of censorship does not support it. The psychology of creative work does not support it.
Fiction is not reality. Processing is not endorsing. Creating is not becoming.
That's what proshipping means. That's why I hold this stance.
sources referenced in this post:
Ferguson, C. (2015). New Evidence Suggests Media Violence Effects May Be Minimal. Psychiatric Times.
Gottschall, J. (2013). Does Fictional Violence Lead to Real Violence? Psychology Today.
Vander Molen, L., Ronis, S., & Benoit, A. (2023). Paraphilic Interests Versus Behaviors. Sexual Abuse. PMC10189825.
Cantor, J. & McPhail, I. (2016). Non-Offending Pedophiles. Current Sexual Health Reports, 8(3), 121–128. Johns Hopkins.
Jones, S., Ó Ciardha, C., & Elliott, I. (2021). Identifying the Coping Strategies of Nonoffending Pedophilic and Hebephilic Individuals. Sexual Abuse.
DSM-5. (2013). Paraphilic Disorders. American Psychiatric Association.
Holoyda, B. (2014). DSM-5 and Paraphilic Disorders. Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law, 42(2).
Cox, P. (quoted in The Guardian). Shark Trust.
Shark Files. (2023). The Jaws Myth. thesharkfiles.com
Knowlton, N. & Benchley, W. (2014). Smithsonian Magazine.
Spielberg, S. (2022). BBC Radio 4, Desert Island Discs interview.
Please let me know if I've misscited anything. It's been years since I've typed of an academic-style post with sources.
POV: You just told the first King of Hyrule that his descendants have been subject to millennia of infanticide and that you yourself narrowly escaped the same fate.
One of the best inter to Zelda, I remember starting the game and after Link wakes up there is that wonderful pan to show the great plans of Hyrule, I could smell the grass and taste the air...
Anyways, with the Zelda franchise celebrating it's 40th anniversary I would draw our boy Link. I am not sold on the angle of his eyes but I like his hair...
what do you think minish cap Four looked like?? Like I've been reading the manga and he's so baby and so tiny he's like two apples tall, one inch tall and full of courage
Well, we actually (kind of) have an answer for that!
Here's some sketches and doodles taken off of Jojos Tumblr. These are all Minish Cap Link- so we can assume that Four looked like this during his first adventure :) Really cute, right? What a baby. He looks really polite
His change of hairstyle seems to be something that came later. He had that signature Link hair once!
I don't care if they're the highest grossing movies on planet freakin Earth, you say "Avatar" and everyone and their mom still thinks that bald little bitch and his magic cow. Soggy James can keep his millions, he'll never have the streets.
AKA SkipBreaker @needfantasticstories - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
