can't believe i never shared this thought but when i was like 5 years old playing SS on my wii i genuinely thought Owlan was Ghirahims dad. like no brows white hair similar face structure Like. i would legitimately ponder why Ghirahim would jump down Skyloft to pursue his freakish passions because i really loved Owlan for some reason
i remember pointing at the screen very furiously and yelling shit like YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED WITH OWLAN!! STOP MAKING THE GAME HARD STOP!
In the beginning of Skyward Sword, Gaepora said that Horwell (the brown haired Instructor that cares for Mia the Remlit) was overseeing the Wing Ceremony that year. But during the actual ceremony, Gaepora & Owlan (the white haired instructor that likes plants) are the ones to oversee the race. Horwell is nowhere in sight???
for @zelinkcommunity Zelink Week 2023, prompt: hand in hand. this work doesn't contain any totk spoilers!
Fandom: Skyward Sword
Rating: G
Summary: Link and Zelda overcome their fear of jumping--together.
“Go on, you can do it. Jump off.”
Even though Instructor Owlan was known for his soothing, easygoing voice, his words were anything but to little Zelda. She stared straight down into the swirling clouds below, only a short, terrifying leap away.
“I can’t,” she whined. “It’s scary.”
“You’ve flown before, haven’t you?” the instructor asked. She nodded meekly, her body unmoving from its precarious position on the edge of the deck. She could practically feel the gaze of her father, standing just a ways behind, burning into her back.
“You know how to whistle, and we’ve practiced jumping before,” Instructor Owlan continued, resting his hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “I know it’s scary, but I also know you can do it.”
Still, she shook her head and stepped back from the ledge. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Maybe Link can show you how?”
Zelda’s normally courageous best friend stepped forward from underneath the shade of a tree, twiddling his thumbs and looking everywhere but Instructor Owlan. He shook his head too, and a wave of relief washed over Zelda. Her mind had been filled with horrid images of him falling and his bird never answering his whistle, images of Link disappearing into the clouds below and never returning.
They had met their Loftwings, played with them and cared for them numerous times before, but now that they were tasked with actually jumping off the island she wasn’t sure if her bird would answer. One time, her dress got snagged on one of her Loftwing’s talons and it screeched in pain. Did it forgive her after that? Would its payback be ignoring her call? She shuddered at the thought.
“You got this, Link,” Owlan encouraged, but the little boy only shrunk back into the shade. The instructor sighed. “Headmaster, I just don’t think today is the day.”
“That’s alright, Owlan,” Zelda’s father said, stepping forward to meet their group by the tree, safely away from the edge of the deck leading to her doom. Thank the Goddesses, his gaze was much softer than she imagined. “I remember my first time jumping off. Actually, it took me a while. We can try again tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
Instructor Owlan said his goodbyes and gave some final words of encouragement to the children–which they didn’t find at all encouraging–and went on his way to the Knight Academy to teach the last classes of the day.
“We’re sorry,” Zelda said to her father.
“Have I ever told you two of my first time diving?” he asked. The pair shook their heads and began to walk with him around the front of the Goddess Statue. Gazing up at Hylia’s smiling face, he reminisced.
“I was a fussy kid,” he began. “I went to the deck kicking and screaming. I was terrified of the sky and much preferred to call my Loftwing to the island instead. I didn’t want to fly it; I was perfectly fine just grooming and feeding it and then letting it go on its way. But… riding Loftwings is a fact of life for our people. Everyone has that first jump, and for some, it’s effortless. For me… well, it took over a week of bringing me to the deck everyday, coercing me, until finally I jumped. Maybe I was sick of the hounding.”
“Why did you jump?”
He hummed in thought before casting his fond gaze down at Link and Zelda. “My mother dove with me,” he said. “She held my hand and we jumped off the island together, and I whistled for my bird and everything was fine.”
“I don’t think I can do it,” Zelda murmured.
“The sky is big, but it’s even bigger when you’re just a child.” His words were meant to be comforting, but the pair still wore uneasy faces. He knelt down and took one of their hands in each of his. “What are you scared of?”
Link leaned up to Zelda’s ear, cupping his mouth and whispering something only she could hear.
“Me too,” she replied aloud. “We don’t want to fall into the clouds. We don’t know what’s down there. We could… could…”
“You won’t die,” Gaepora chuckled. “Nobody has fallen beneath the clouds before. Our knights make sure of it, and they’ll keep you two safe.”
“Okay,” Zelda sighed, unconvinced.
“We’ll try again tomorrow. You two go on now, but Zelda, you be home for supper.”
“Yes, father. Bye bye.”
And the two children ran off towards the waterfall to play, down rickety flights of stairs and through stone plazas. For a few hours in front of that waterfall they forgot about the Loftwings and the clouds and the great big sky and the thought of falling far, far below them, never to return…
…until Link pushed Zelda a little too close to the edge and she scrambled backward as quickly as she could.
“I’m sorry,” he said, speaking only as he does around her. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” she reassured him, standing up and dusting herself off. “I’m just… scared.”
“Me too,” he admitted. “I don’t think I can do it at all.”
Link, timid as he was, was usually the one who dragged her along on his grand adventures around Skyloft. Sneaking out to the graveyard at night, going into the cave when they aren’t supposed to, running through the Knight Academy halls–he spearheaded those operations and Zelda gladly tagged along, practically glued to her best friend. Maybe…
“We could do it together,” she offered. “Even if we don’t jump. Maybe if we just stand there together, we can get the courage.”
“You’re brave for standing there,” Link frowned. “I can’t do it.” He slumped onto the grass, plucking strands from the earth. She sat down beside him.
“Remember when you hit Groose down there once because he was picking on you?”
Link nodded, fighting back the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Or that time you took an extra helping of soup from the mess hall?”
“When I wasn’t supposed to? Yeah… and then I got caught, so it wasn’t that cool.”
“It was cool to me,” Zelda huffed, crossing her arms and sticking her nose up. “It was also cool that night you snuck into my room from the roof–how did you even get up there? And then we spent all night reading books in the dark and playing games.”
“Yeah, I did do that.” Link dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know why you’re telling me about it.”
“You’re brave, Link,” she replied, “and I think, if we do it together, we can do anything.”
“You were right with me all those times.”
“So, come on!” Zelda leapt up and extended her hand. “Let's at least go stand on the deck. Then maybe tomorrow, we can look over the edge.”
“Okay…” Hesitantly, he took her small hand and hoisted himself off the ground. Together, they walked back to the Goddess Statue as the sun began to set over Skyloft, casting its golden rays all around them. The evening breeze blew steadily, warm and soft, as they climbed the stairs back to the statue. Zelda insisted they stop for a quick prayer.
“For safety,” she said.
“I don’t think the Goddess can catch us,” Link replied.
After praying (and Zelda ending hers with, “Also, I pray that my father does not serve meatloaf tonight.”) they went behind the statue to one of the most isolated decks on Skyloft where they had been practicing– er, trying to practice, earlier. They’d jumped off of high points around Skyloft before, but the heights weren’t drastic and there was always a mountain of cushions and people below to break their fall. Now, only the clouds awaited them, and whatever lay beneath should something go awry.
Zelda forced herself to walk onto the deck, making sure to keep her gaze straight ahead and not stray to the sunset-golden void beneath her.
“Come on,” she beckoned Link, who had stopped behind her. Outstretching her hand, he hesitantly took it, steps shaky as he closed the distance between them. Side by side, they approached the edge.
Link’s eyes searched Zelda’s face, noticing the way she gulped and swiped at her forehead. He couldn’t help the shaky exhale that came from his lips.
“What if…” Zelda mumbled to herself, briefly releasing his hand to sit and dangle her legs over the edge. “See, this isn’t so bad.” She offered her hand once more and he took it with less reluctance this time, gingerly putting his legs out into the air. The tension dissipated and they dangled beside hers. The pair sat in silence, basking in the evening breeze and dying light, relishing in each other’s company, purposely ignoring the task at hand. She never said they had to do it right now, but… with him, she felt like anything was possible. So she stood, bringing him with her.
“I’m going to do it,” she declared. “You don’t have to do it with me. I can show you how easy it is.” Inside, she was screaming. She was terrified, but if it could help Link overcome his own fear, she would do it.
“No,” he said. “I’ll do it with you.” His hand squeezed hers a little tighter out of fright and fondness, and she smiled.
“Okay. On three.” And she counted. One, two, three…
They leapt off the platform, hands entwined as they plummeted through the sky, and for a moment the excitement was so overwhelming they almost forgot to call their Loftwings until Zelda positioned her fingers at her lips and blew, causing Link to follow suit. With a whoosh their birds swooped beneath them, close enough that with outstretched arms their fingertips still grazed against one another. Their hearts pounded in their ears, breathing heavily, enjoying the relaxing glide of their Loftwings.
They flew side by side (if they had hands, Zelda thought, would they be holding them too?) and as the little girl looked upon her childhood hero, who had bested bullies and teachers and risked getting caught for countless things, now beaming in the shining sun, she knew they would be alright. Shifting a little closer, she held his hand just a little tighter.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 50/50
Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Fi & Link (Legend of Zelda), Fi & Hylia (Legend of Zelda)
Characters: Fi (Legend of Zelda), Hylia (Legend of Zelda), Link (Legend of Zelda), Impa (Legend of Zelda), Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Groose (Legend of Zelda), Ghirahim (Legend of Zelda), Gorko (Legend of Zelda), LD-301S Scrapper, Faron (Legend of Zelda), LD-301N Skipper, Levias (Legend of Zelda), The Imprisoned (Legend of Zelda), Crimson Loftwing, Eldin (Legend of Zelda), Lanayru (Legend of Zelda), Owlan (Legend of Zelda), Demise (Legend of Zelda), Batreaux (Legend of Zelda)
Additional Tags: Hylia being a good mom, She tried her best dammit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, How Do I Tag, Fi being Fi, No I will not be mentioning First, He's not canon, Sorry Not Sorry, Fi-centric, Making NPCs more human, Skyloft should be pretty tight-knit right?, Gorko geeking out, Fi is uncomfortable with Gorons, Kikwis - Freeform, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Fairies, Fi singing a lullaby, Fi in Denial, Mogma Gang, Self-Doubt, Attempt at lack of self-care, Fi states FACTS, Fi and Crimson Loftwing health care system, Time Travel Shenanigans, Robots, Silent Realms, Guardians - Freeform, Golo
Series: Part 1 of Chronicles of a Sword Spirit
Summary:
'My first cognizant memory is that of the Goddess Hylia, smiling gently at me as She held my sword in Her hands.'
Fi, the spirit of the sword. The first companion of the Hero, an eternal companion, even if the Hero himself is no longer aware, no longer remembers...
