People who are here from my old account already know this, but for those who are new here’s something you should know:
My main fic and most aus and snippets I write here involve a female (y/n) who doesn’t have any explicit physical features described in the writing itself. However, I have a design for this reader insert which I draw a lot because it’s fun and she’s cute.
If you do not wish to see the drawing of this design, I suggest blocking the (y/n) posting tag which will always be used to tag posts which involve this design (y/n).
A thanks to Yandy for inspiring me! It was fun adding something super goofy to Mafia Au!
Teeechnically there’s nothing Yandere or mafia in this but, it’s in the Au so it counts! Consider this a filler!
(The named OCs (minus the Dean of course.)that are connected to (y/n) belong to Yandy so if you got questions about them, ask thaaat lovely lass.)
Anywho, enjooooy!
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It’s a warm afternoon, the sun lazily stretching its rays across the bustling college campus. Students crowd the quad, gathered around a hastily assembled stage.
A buzz thrums through the air, fueled by the promise of an announcement that has everyone on edge. (Y/n) stands with her back against one of the quad’s large trees, arms crossed, looking relaxed yet curious.
Beside her, Tess lounges on the grass, her knees pulled up.
Nic leans against the tree trunk beside her, arms folded, eyes scanning the crowd.
“It’s a shame Jack’s still helping out mom and dad,” (Y/n) muses, glancing at the chaotic crowd. “She’d love this, but she won’t be back in time.”
Tess chuckles, “Lucky for us you mean. She’d probably destroy all of us in whatever madness they’re cooking up.”
(Y/n) smiles, nodding. “True. It’s probably for the best.”
The day seemed too calm, almost as if the entire campus was waiting for something to happen. Tess tilts her head towards (Y/n), her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Think it’s going to be good?” she asks, barely containing a grin.
(Y/n) shrugs, trying to stay casual but the tension is starting to crawl into her posture.
“Depends on the prize. If it’s another pizza party, I’m not losing a limb over it.”
Nic, who’d been pretending not to care, finally speaks up.
“If they’re gathering this many people, it’s not gonna be a pizza party. You don’t rally the entire campus for cheap cardboard and cheese.”
The trio falls into a watchful silence as the Dean finally steps up to the microphone, looking far too pleased with himself.
The guy had the aura of someone who believed he’d found the next viral college stunt, like this one genius idea was going to get him written into school legend.
The Dean, in a suit just a little too tight, beams at the students, raising his hands like a conquering hero.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming! Today we have an announcement that will change the next two weeks for ALL of you!” He pauses for effect, and it’s clear he’s basking in the suspense.
Tess, with a casual smirk, mutters, “Hope he’s wearing something waterproof. This crowd’s gonna riot if he says ‘raffle tickets’.”
Dean Farrow clears his throat and grins like a man about to drop a bombshell.
“As you all know, it’s time for our annual campus-wide paintball tournament!”
There’s a faint murmur of excitement, but it’s restrained. Paintball was a yearly thing, fun, but nothing that would send the campus into a frenzy.
(Y/n) raises an eyebrow. “Paintball? Again? That’s it?”
“As you all know, last year’s paintball tournament was canceled due to the campus renovations.”
Disgruntled murmurs were heard throughout the crowd. (Y/n) could relate. No one had been happy last year.
The Dean cleared his throat. “But this year… it’s back!”
The murmurs grew louder, anticipation rising. Nic raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but trying to play it cool. Tess was already bouncing on the balls of her feet.
The Dean continued, oblivious to the rising storm in front of him. “Now, let’s talk prizes! For the runner up, an all expenses paid spa weekend!”
A few cheers and claps sounded, but nothing too enthusiastic.
“Better than a pizza party!” Tess chirped.
But the Dean wasn’t finished.
“This year, though, we’ve decided to up the stakes. The grand prize for the last person standing—” He pauses again for dramatic effect. “Will be priority registration for next semester and the option to skip one final exam!”
For a second, the world seems to stop. Everyone in the quad freezes. The trio looks stunned. It’s the kind of silence so intense you could hear a pin drop on grass.
“Now students, the tournament will begin—”
A single scream tears through the air as some random student, no doubt acting on pure instinct, whips out a hidden paintball pistol and shoots his friend square in the chest. Bright yellow paint splatters across his shirt as he stumbles back, but the action sets off a chain reaction.
Hell breaks loose.
Students dive for cover, pull paintball guns from their bags, jackets, and God knows where else. Some bolt for the bushes. Others start forming alliances on the fly. The crowd disperses like wildfire, everyone scrambling to avoid being the first casualty as the Dean attempts to control the sudden chaos he unleashed.
“S-Students wait! The tournament won’t be for another-!!” He ducks as several paintballs were shot at him.
Tess, cackling like a madwoman, is already on her feet, using her bag to knock down a student that tried to sneak up on them.
“Now that is a prize worth fighting for!”
Nic, already frowning but with a glint of anticipation in his eyes, pulls a small paintball gun from his satchel.
(Y/n) blinks. “Why do you—”
“I’m not flunking a final because I have to memorize another 400 pages of economics.”
Just as Nic grabs Tess and (Y/n) by their arms, dragging them toward the nearest set of bushes, Tess glances at (Y/n) and says, “Actually, it’s a good thing Jack’s not here. She’d win this in a heartbeat, and we’d all be toast.”
(Y/n) nods, ducking as a paintball whizzes past them. “Yeah, she’d mop the floor with us.”
Nic, who was now crouched behind the dense greenery, adds with a smirk, “You’re not wrong. We’d all be out before we even got started.”
As the chaos erupts around them, (Y/n) peeks over the top of the bench, watching the pandemonium unfold in the quad. Paintballs fly in every direction, splattering students left and right.
A couple of nerds are already hiding under the admin building’s steps, shouting something about regrouping.
“What the hell is happening right now??” (Y/n) gasps, trying to catch her breath.
“Natural selection,” Nic answers, crouched beside them, his eyes darting around like a man possessed. “Okay, here’s the plan.”
Tess grins. “The plan is: we win.”
Nic, already firing at a group of art students rushing them, gives Tess a look. “That’s not a plan.”
“It’s all I need,” Tess retorts, shooting at two students passing by.
Nic rolls his eyes. “The real plan is: we find a safe place, avoid the jocks, they’ll be in full attack mode, and stay clear of the chess club. Those guys play dirty. Trust me.”
“The chess club?” Tess asks, raising an eyebrow.
Nic nods gravely. “They’re organized, strategic, and ruthless. Don’t underestimate them.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Shut up.”
(Y/n) groaned, leaning back against the bush. "Nic, we don’t even have enough paintball guns!"
Tess grinned, pulling a paintball gun from seemingly nowhere and handing it to (Y/n). "Here, you’re gonna need this."
(Y/n) blinked at her in shock. "Where did you—"
Tess jabbed her thumb in the direction of a guy lying on the ground a few feet away, struggling to get back up. “Borrowed it.”
Nic smirked. "Nice work, Tess."
“Alright,” he continued, his voice lowering as he glanced over the quad. “We need to move. Now.”
Just then, Nic froze, his eyes narrowing. “Crap. Chess club. Twelve o’clock.”
They all whipped their heads in the direction Nic was looking and sure enough, several members of the chess club were efficiently taking people out with precise shots, their strategy impeccable.
“RUN!” Nic shouted, and the three of them bolted from their hiding spot, sprinting across the quad, ducking behind anything they could find.
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——
The manor was unusually quiet, save for the idle hum of conversation among the Chain. The air was thick with the smell of wood polish and the faint echo of footsteps across the hardwood floors.
Warriors leaned back in his chair, wiping a stray smear of blood off his gauntlet while Sky whittle away at a small block of wood , the room basked in the rare moments of calm they were afforded between missions.
“Ugh,” Warriors groaned, tossing the rag onto the table. “I swear, grinding bones after severing limbs is such a hassle. I’ve said it a hundred times, it’s way easier to just grind the body as a whole. Saves time.”
Wind, lounging nearby with a playful smirk, chimed in, “Or, you know, you could just feed the whole bodies to pigs. That’d solve your problem in no time. Pigs’ll eat everything.”
Time, who had been writing a report across from Sky, didn’t even look as he calmly spoke to Wind, his voice measured and even. “Wind is not allowed to assist with body disposal for a month.”
“What?!” Wind protested, sitting up straight. “Again?!? Come on! I’m being punished just for making suggestions now? It's a good idea! The pigs back home could-“
Twilight chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re weird about the pigs, Wind. You use them like you use those seagulls, way too much enthusiasm for… clean-up.”
“That’s different!” Wind huffed, crossing his arms. “Pigs are just… practical.”
"Uh-huh," Four muttered sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as he turned the page of his book.
Meanwhile, Hyrule sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a vague smile, half-listening to the chatter around him. Time, however, was only pretending to read the report in front of him. His blank expression hid the mental whirlwind after he decided to check on how (Y/n)’s paintball game was going on his phone.
The screen in front of him showed what could only be described as a literal war zone on campus, students running, screaming, and paintballs flying in every direction like some kind of apocalyptic battle.
Time’s eyebrows rose. How had it devolved into this so quickly? He knew about the prize, but he hadn’t anticipated this level of chaos from a bunch of college students. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm, though his blank expression became more strained with each passing second.
Just then, Hyrule’s phone buzzed. He blinked and frowned slightly at the unknown number, hesitating before answering. “Hello?”
There was a brief moment of silence, then (Y/n)’s frantic, breathless voice exploded through the phone.
“SEND DUDES! AND NOT TIME, CAUSE I DON’T TRUST HIS DEPTH PERCEPTION!”
Time’s eye twitched sharply at her comment, and for a brief second, the other Links swore they saw a vein pop on his forehead. He grunted quietly in annoyance but remained silent, though his expression was growing more strained by the second. He was still distracted by the chaos unfolding on his screen-paintballs flying everywhere, students diving behind cover, and… was that someone wearing a trash can as armor?
“What-” Hyrule started to say, but before he could get a full sentence out, there was another crash on (Y/n)’s end of the line.
“NIC, BEHIND YOU! NO, NOT THAT WAY-“
(Y/n)’s voice came back, still chaotic but trying to sound cheery. “Anyway, gotta go, good luck! See you soon!” And with that, the call abruptly ended.
The room was silent for a beat, everyone waiting for Hyrule to explain. Time didn’t seem to notice the stares, his eyes still glued to his screen, watching the unfolding mayhem with thinly veiled fascination and horror.
“What was that about?” Four asked, leaning forward, his face a mixture of concern and confusion.
Hyrule pocketed his phone and glanced around the room. “Uh… (Y/n) needs help. She said they’re in the middle of something, and-” he paused, glancing awkwardly at Time, “-she, uh… doesn’t want you to come. Something about your depth perception?”
Time’s eye twitched again. His lips pressed into a thin line, but he stayed silent, though the tension radiating off him was palpable.
Warriors snorted. “She’s never gonna let you live that down.”
Time’s expression remained unreadable, but his fingers twitched as though he were imagining the penal he’d perform on her. He forced himself to exhale through his nose slowly, pretending to look calm.
Twilight, chuckling, grabbed his bag. “We should head out. Sounds like she’s in the middle of some chaos.”
Wind slung his bag over his shoulder with a grin. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just a tournament, right?”
Four rolled his eyes as he followed Wind. “Yeah, because ‘just a tournament’ always ends in a disaster with us.”
Twilight laughed and nodded in agreement.
As the Chain started heading toward the door, Time remained seated, his expression still unreadable. The others gave him a curious glance, but he waved them off. “I’ve got other matters to handle.”
Once the door clicked shut behind them, Time let out a long, slow exhale, his carefully constructed calm mask slipping. His eyebrow twitched one last time before he muttered under his breath, “I’ve got half a mind to go down there myself and put a paintball between her eyes…my depth perception is fine.”
He stared at the screen.
. . .
Chaos continued.
. . .
He sighed.
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. . . . . . . . . .
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The group arrived at the college, their boots barely making a sound on the eerily quiet campus.
The air was unusually still, lacking the lively hum of students that Hyrule had described. Warriors narrowed his eyes as they walked further in, his instincts kicking in immediately, scanning the area for any sign of trouble.
“This is… strange,” Four commented, his gaze sweeping across the empty grounds. “Shouldn’t there be more…people around?”
“Yeah,” Hyrule agreed, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting (Y/n) to pop out from behind a tree. “Way too quiet.”
As they ventured further down the pathway, their pace slowed when they began to notice the state of the campus.
Banners hung torn and ragged, some barely fluttering in the faint breeze. Tables and chairs were scattered across the walkways, overturned with legs bent at odd angles. Posters were ripped apart, their remnants littering the ground like confetti after a storm.
“Looks like something went down here,” Wind muttered, eyes narrowing as he nudged aside a crumpled banner with his foot.
Warriors crouched near an overturned chair, his expression unreadable. “Stay on guard.”
They moved toward the heart of the campus, the atmosphere tense. The quad, once vibrant and bustling with students, now resembled a battlefield. Tables and chairs were toppled over, barricades had been hastily thrown together, and the occasional smear of paint marked various surfaces.
“I’ve seen war zones cleaner than this,” Four remarked, both baffled and somewhat impressed as he took in the chaotic scene.
“Where are all the students?” Twilight’s voice was tight, his eyes scanning every corner of the quad.
Warriors’ eyes flicked to the closed doors of the cafeteria on the far side. “We’ll find out.”
The group approached the doors cautiously, the silence growing heavier with each step. Warriors reached out to open the door, his hand mere inches from the handle when-
BAM!
The doors flew open, and a student tumbled out, barely managing to roll to their feet. More students followed, sprinting out after them, eyes wide with panic. They ducked behind cover as a barrage of paintballs zipped through the air from inside the cafeteria.
The heroes barely dodged as a few stray paintballs whizzed past, hitting the walls behind them.
“What the-” Wind exclaimed, jumping aside to avoid being hit.
They all exchanged glances before cautiously peeking into the cafeteria. What they saw inside was chaos in its purest form.
Students were ducking behind upturned tables and hastily constructed barricades, some scrambling for cover while others fired paintball guns from behind makeshift shields.
However, the level of paint on each participant varied, those with more splatters were lingering on the outskirts of the room, making their way to designated “out” zones where they waited with mild frustration. Others, still largely untouched, remained deep in the fray, determined to emerge victorious.
Hyrule, crouching behind the door frame , stared at the scene in disbelief. “Is this… is this what school is like now?”
Four, beside him and inspecting a large splatter of paint on the wall, furrowed his brow. “It’s like a battle… but with paint? Why are they taking it so seriously?”
Warriors squinted, scanning the room for any familiar face. “This has to be the tournament (Y/n) mentioned… and it looks like she’s in the middle of it.”
Wind, eyeing the students who had just bolted outside, grinned. “Well, I guess we’re jumping in.”
“Let’s find (Y/n) and get her out of this,” Four added, already strategizing their next move.
With determined expressions, they pushed into the cafeteria, weaving through the mayhem while dodging the constant splatter of paintballs. Whatever mess (Y/n) had found herself in, the Chain was about to find out.
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Warriors, Twilight, Hyrule, Four, and Wind ducked low as they weaved through the chaos of the college campus. Paintballs whizzed past them, splattering on walls, floors, and the occasional student who didn’t move fast enough.
The paintball guns they had snagged from fallen participants were a welcome relief, helping them fend off incoming attacks and maintain some semblance of control in the ongoing mayhem.
The campus felt like a war zone, desks and chairs overturned, students screaming and shouting as they dove behind cover. Paint splattered walls lined their path, but the group pressed forward, dodging fire and returning shots when necessary.
“How do they even have this much ammo?” Four muttered, pausing to reload his paintball gun as they moved deeper into the school.
“I don’t know, but I’m running low,” Wind grumbled, shaking his gun and checking the chamber. “Why do I always end up in these situations?”
Warriors chuckled, eyes gleaming as he fired a few shots in return. “It’s not so bad. Good practice, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, but no one’s actually dying,” Hyrule muttered, sounding a little uneasy as he ducked behind an overturned desk for cover.
Twilight fired off a few quick shots, covering their retreat as they dashed into another hallway. “Stay sharp. We still don’t know who’s controlling this madness, and we haven’t found (Y/n) yet.”
The echoes of paintball guns firing filled the corridor as they navigated through the chaos.
The action was intense, but it wasn’t long before things took a turn. Wind and Four, distracted by the onslaught, suddenly found themselves separated from the others, their backs pressed against a wall as two paint-splattered club members (mountain climbing club by the logo on their shirts) approached with fresh guns at the ready.
“Wind! out of ammo?” Four asked, quickly assessing the situation as the two club members drew closer.
“Yeah, I’m tapped,” Wind muttered, glancing nervously at the pair stalking toward them. “And these two look like they mean business.”
The club members raised their paintball guns, smirking as they prepared to fire.
Just as things looked bleak, a rapid series of shots rang out, and both club members were hit from behind, neon paint splattering across their backs. They yelped in surprise, stumbling forward before dramatically collapsing onto the ground, “defeated.”
Wind and Four blinked in surprise, staring at the paint-covered students for a moment before turning to see Tess standing a few feet away, her own paintball gun held confidently in hand. Her combat getup, though splattered with paint, gave her an air of authority.
“Come with me if you want to live!” Tess shouted dramatically.
One of the downed students groaned weakly from the ground, raising a hand. “No one’s actually dying…”
Tess immediately shot them again, causing the student to flinch and scramble for cover. “Shut it!” she barked, not missing a beat.
Wind and Four exchanged glances before quickly deciding to follow her. They dashed forward, Tess leading them through the chaos with expert precision. Her eyes constantly scanned their surroundings, ever vigilant.
“Good timing!” Wind called out as they caught up.
Tess glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the guys who know those other two! The one with the scars and the other with the pink streak in his hair. What were their names again?”
“That’s Wild and Legend,” Wind replied.
“Weird names,” Tess commented with a grin. “I love it.”
“Where’s (Y/n)?” Four asked, narrowly dodging a stray paintball as they rounded a corner.
“She’s with our friend Nic,” Tess answered, never breaking stride. “I’m Tess, by the way. But listen, this paintball tournament has gone way past fun.” She paused for a moment, “Ok not really, but it’s turned into a full-blown warzone! The clubs are taking this way too seriously. Especially the book and bird-watching clubs. You guys ready for a real fight?”
At that moment, Warriors, Twilight, and Hyrule rejoined the group, their paintball guns still at the ready as they surveyed the situation.
Wind glanced around, assessing the chaos with a smirk. “This is more like it.”
Twilight shook his head, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Lead the way, Miss. We’re ready.”
And with that, they charged deeper into the fray, ready to rescue (Y/n) and see just what kind of madness she had gotten herself into this time.
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Tess led the group through the chaotic halls, her hazel eyes scanning the area with the precision only someone used to leading tactical maneuvers during a paintball battle could have. The sounds of paintball fire echoed off the walls, students darting between cover in a frenzied battle for supremacy. Warriors, Twilight, Hyrule, Four, and Wind followed closely, keeping low and exchanging quick shots with other competitors to keep them at bay.
As they rounded a corner, Tess abruptly stopped and raised her hand, eyes widening. “Get down!” she hissed, diving behind a set of overturned benches. Without hesitation, the Chain followed her lead, crouching down just as a group of paint-covered students sprinted past, panic clear on their faces as they were still being shot at despite their clear disqualification.
One student, a guy with a brightly colored scarf, slowed down just long enough to shake his fist at them. “You think you’re so clever, huh? Wait until we unleash the library cart rampage on you! You won’t stand a chance!”
Another student, lagging behind, called out, “Yeah! And I’ll bring the staplers next time!”
Before Tess could respond, a barrage of paintball grenades was lobbed in their direction. “Move!” she barked, grabbing Wind by the back of his shirt and pulling him aside just before the grenades exploded in bursts of color. The group narrowly dodged the splatter, the paint hitting the ground where they had just been standing.
Once the danger passed, Tess motioned them forward, leading them toward a nearby building. She pulled open a door, and the heroes rushed inside, eager for some semblance of safety.
Tess let out a sharp, and practiced birdcall as they entered.
After a moment, another bird call was heard as Nic popped out from a teacher’s closet, looking alert but mercifully paint-free. “Thought you were goner for a sec,” he said, smirking at Tess.
Then, with a loud thunk, (Y/n) pushed the lid off a trash can and emerged, blinking as a crumpled piece of paper slid off her head. “Tactical hiding,” she said with a grin, though she was trying (and failing) to shake off some lingering bits of trash.
Warriors raised an eyebrow, taking in the scene. “Really?”
(Y/n) shrugged. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”
Twilight chuckled as Four shook his head, clearly amused by the unorthodox tactics.
“Nice timing,” Nic said, still standing by the closet door. “You’re the cavalry, right?”
Warriors nodded, already assessing the situation. “Something like that.”
Tess handed out extra ammo, moving with the calm efficiency of someone who had done this many times before. “Alright, listen up. We’ve been holding out here, but things are escalating. Some of the clubs are pulling out their weirder strategies.”
Four, catching his breath, glanced at (Y/n). “You okay?”
(Y/n) nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Nic’s been keeping me out of trouble.”
Tess gave Nic a nod. “You can thank him later. But for now, we’ve got a tournament to win.”
Before anyone could respond, (Y/n)’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and froze. “Uh, one second…” She quickly answered, her voice suddenly a bit tense. “Hey, Jack! Hi! What’s up?”
On the other end, Jack’s voice was sharp, cold. “What the hell is going on?”
(Y/n) fumbled for an answer, glancing nervously at Nic and Tess, both of whom had gone pale. “Oh, uh, it’s really nothing- qjust, you know, a paintball tournament! Totally normal college stuff, no big deal!”
There was a long pause. In the background, they could faintly hear Jack speaking to someone. “Tell me exactly what’s happening,” she demanded, her voice firm and commanding. A student’s voice, trembling and intimidated, responded, “It’s the prize, ma’am’ first priority registration and to skip out on one final! That’s why everyone’s going crazy.”
The line went dead. (Y/n) stared at her phone in disbelief, “She hung up on me.” As the others in the room exchanged horrified looks.
Tess groaned, her face paling even further. “Oh no. This is bad. Really, really bad.”
Nic ran a hand through his hair, clearly panicking now. “Jack is on a warpath. We are so dead.”
Warriors furrowed his brow. “Who’s Jack?”
(Y/n) let out a small sigh, trying to hide her amusement at the whole situation. “My baby sister,” she said casually, though there was no missing the tension that had gripped the room.
“You remember she’s a year younger than you right?”
“Still my baby sister.”
Hyrule blinked in confusion. “Why is everyone so scared?”
(Y/n) shook her head with a grin, clearly unaffected by the dread that had spread among the others. “Because Jack’s… well, Jack. She’s a force of nature when she gets involved in something like this. But don’t worry,” she added, her tone light and teasing. “She’s terrifying, but she’s family.”
Tess let out a nervous laugh, clearly still shaken. “Yeah, ‘terrifying’ is an understatement.”
Nic looked between Tess and (Y/n), his expression grim. “We’ve faced some tough competition, but if Jack’s on the move now, we’re in for the fight of our lives.”
Wind, bouncing on his feet, cracked a grin. “Sounds fun! I’m ready for anything!”
Twilight crossed his arms, his lips twitching in amusement. “I think we’ll manage.”
“Yeah,” Warriors said, his voice calm and resolute. “We’ve handled worse. Let’s just make sure we’re ready.”
With Jack now in the mix, the stakes had been raised to an entirely new level.
But despite the panic in Tess and Nic’s eyes, (Y/n) couldn’t help but smile.
Warriors suddenly frowned, glancing around the small hideout. “Wait a second, have any of you seen Legend or Wild? I’ve no doubt they’d be involved.”
At his question, (Y/n), Nic, and Tess exchanged uneasy looks.
Warriors narrowed his eyes. “…What are those looks for?”
“Weeell…” Tess started, scratching the back of her head, “they were helping us for a while.”
“Yeah,” Nic added, “they joined up with us earlier. Legend, Wild, and (Y/n) completely demolished the competition.”
Tess nodded, a grin creeping onto her face. “Took out the cheerleaders too!”
“Absolutely wiped the floor with them,” (Y/n) said, her pride evident. But then she hesitated. “At least… until things got a little complicated?”
Twilight raised a brow. “Complicated? What do you mean?”
Tess sighed, shooting (Y/n) a look who smiled sheepishly before answering. “Let’s just say their, uh… desire for the prize kicked in.”
The heroes stared at her in disbelief. Four folded his arms. “There’s no way they turned on you for something as ridiculous as—”
Suddenly, a paintball whizzed by (Y/n)’s head, splattering bright pink paint across the wall behind her. She quickly ducked behind cover with Nic and Tess, all of them trying to avoid the shots being fired in their direction.
Out the window, Wild crouched a short distance away, peering over the edge of a table as he adjusted his aim. “Sorry, (Y/n)! But I’m not dealing with that physics final!”
(Y/n) peeked out from behind the barricade, glaring at him through the window. “Seriously?!”
Before Wild could shoot again, Legend appeared, leaping down from a nearby shelf with a paintball pistol in each hand. He pointed one at Wild and the other at (Y/n)’s group. “Only person who’s gonna win is ME!”
Wild glanced at him, his eyes narrowed in a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You’ve got, like, two classes! You don’t even need priority registration, you damn hoarder!”
“And YOU need to be more dedicated to your studies! Ever heard of ‘testing out’ early?”
Wild rolled his eyes, ducking down as he dodged a few incoming paintballs. “Oh, come on! Skipping any final sounds good to anyone, okay?”
Twilight, still crouched behind a barricade, finally spoke up, unable to believe what he was seeing. “You two need to stand down! This is ridiculous!”
Wild shot back, “You don’t understand how bad exams are!”
One of the non-student heroes chimed in, shaking his head. “It’s just a stupid prize!”
At that, every student in the area turned to him as if he’d just proclaimed the most foolish thing imaginable.
As the standoff continued, chaos erupted. A random student, spotting the madness, shouted out to their teammates. “Hey! Look! They’re at it again!”
With the distraction, everyone began shooting and dodging, paintballs flying everywhere as (Y/n) sprinted out of the room with Nic and Tess hot on her heels, the rest of the group following closely behind.
Warriors, Twilight, Four, Hyrule, and Wind quickly regrouped with them, ducking and weaving between overturned tables and makeshift cover.
The next hour was a whirlwind of action. Every time (Y/n)’s group thought they’d gained the upper hand, Wild and Legend would pop up, guns blazing, trying to take down (Y/n) and each other with relentless determination.
“We’ve got to take them down!” (Y/n) huffed, crouching behind a row of tipped-over chairs. “They’re too good at this!”
Twilight popped his head up to fire off a few paintballs, only to duck again as Legend’s retaliatory shots whizzed past his head. “That’s easier said than done! These two are treating this like a battlefield!”
Warriors snorted from his position behind a tree. “Typical. We’re stuck in a ridiculous tournament, and they’re acting like it’s a warzone.”
Wind, who had joined the fray with glee, shouted, “I can’t believe they’re going all out over this! I love it!”
As they weaved through the chaos, (Y/n) caught a glimpse of the aftermath of the art club’s paintball rampage. Warriors commented on the terrifying efficiency of it all. “Look at the way the paintballs hit those students! They’re making it look like an art installation gone wrong.”
“That’s probably Jackie’s doing, probably took out the art club afterwards” (Y/n) said, with a grin. “Come on guys! Even if we hate it, if we don’t join forces, we won’t stand a chance against her!”
“She’s right and I hate it!” Tess chirped.
“Tess, I love you, but the shut t he FU-“
“I found more enemies!”
“Crap! The photography club! RUN.”
“Avoid the camera flashes!”
——
————
——
The paintball tournament was reaching its intense final showdown, and the field was nothing short of chaos. (Y/n), Wild, and Legend stood at opposite ends of the battlefield, their eyes narrowing as they sized each other up.
“(Y/n), just give it up,” Wild said, holding his paintball gun at the ready. “We’re not backing down, not when we’re this close.”
Legend gave a cocky smirk. “You think you can cute your way out of this?”
Before (Y/n) could even answer, Tess, who was covered head to toe in splattered paint and grinning like a madwoman, shouted from her hiding spot, “Don’t listen to them! Keep pushing! You’ve got this!”
Wind, equally paint-splattered and grinning like it was the best day of his life, chimed in. “Yeah! No standing down! This is war!”
Nic groaned from where he lay on the ground, covered in paint and utterly defeated. “Can someone please just finish this? I’ve been out for ten minutes…”
Meanwhile, Four leaned against a wall, his face twisted in frustration as he wiped paint off his cheek. “I swear, when we get back, I’m throwing an axe at Time for letting us walk into this mess.”
Twilight, looking equally as worn, nodded in agreement as he dusted himself off. “Seconded. And I’m helping you.”
Nearby, Warriors was struggling to free himself from the netting that had somehow been shot at him by the taxidermy club. “A little help here? I’m not going down like this, ugh, this is embarrassing.”
(Y/n), sensing the tension and not wanting to be the one to lose, decided to try one last tactic. She pouted, puffing out her cheeks and widening her eyes as she stepped forward, putting on her most innocent expression. “C’mon, guys… do we really have to do this? I mean, you could just let me win. I promise I won’t rub it in or anything. Pretty please?”
Wild and Legend exchanged a look, completely unconvinced. Wild raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously trying to pull that on us?”
Legend rolled his eyes, loading another paintball into his pistol. “Come on, (Y/n). We know you better than that.”
(Y/n)’s pout quickly turned into a smirk, her eyes glinting mischievously as she dropped the act. “Oh, please. Like I’d waste real charm on the two of you. I just thought you’d appreciate a challenge before I mop the floor with your sorry asses.”
Wild and Legend both aimed their paintball guns at her, ready for the standoff. But before anyone could pull the trigger, a shadow loomed over them.
Suddenly, there was a loud clink as a paint grenade was tossed right into their midst. The entire group barely had time to react before a massive explosion of colorful paint detonated around them, splattering the entire field. (Y/n), Wild, and Legend were instantly covered in a mix of pinks, blues, and greens.
Stunned, they looked up to see none other than (Y/n)’s sister, Jack, standing in front of a window on the second floor with her perpetually deadpan expression. She was still wearing her paintball gear, yet somehow looked spotless compared to the absolute mess everyone else was in.
Nic groaned, wiping paint from his face. “Great. Her.”
(Y/n) shook her head, squinting up at her sister. “Jack! How the hell did you even find us?”
Jack, her face unchanging, pointed her paintball gun at a tall student standing at her side, who was visibly trembling. His wide eyes darted nervously between the group and Jack, whose sharp, unyielding will practically radiated from her as she stared him down.
“He told me,” Jack said flatly.
The poor student, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment, seemed to shrink under the weight of her expression. He looked like he was about to pass out.
(Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jack, if I have to pay for someone’s therapy because of you, I’m telling Mom to take your phone.”
Jack’s usual deadpan expression broke for a second, her brows knitting slightly. “What did you want me to do? You weren’t telling me anything. I had no clue where you were!”
(Y/n) threw her arms up. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d show up and cause chaos—like you always do!”
“I had to cause chaos! How else was I supposed to find you?” Jack shot back, still not showing much emotion, but the sibling bickering undertone clear.
The poor student, caught in the middle of this sibling spat, looked like he was about to collapse from stress. Jack’s gaze flickered briefly to him before (Y/n) rolled her eyes.
“Jack, if this kid needs therapy because of you, I’m telling Mom, and I’ll make sure she takes your phone for a month.”
“Wouldn’t stop me,” Jack shrugged again.
Warriors, still trying to free himself from the netting, snorted. “Sounds like sibling love at its finest.”
Jack glanced at him briefly before shooting a few more paintballs at the retreating student, who yelped and darted into a nearby building.
“Yeah, he’s gonna need a lot of therapy,” Tess chirped up, her expression cheerful now that she defeated.
(Y/n) groaned again, glancing at the paint-covered battlefield. “Well, great. Now that she’s here, we’re definitely screwed.”
Jack blinked, her paintball gun lazily resting on her shoulder. “You’re already screwed.”
(Y/n), Wild, and Legend exchanged glances, all three of them covered in paint from the grenades.
She was right.
It was clear as day.
They lost.
…
The trio sighed in defeat.
——
———
——
The paintball tournament had finally reached its conclusion, and the aftermath was nothing short of apocalyptic. The once clean field was now littered with paint splattered walls, overturned barricades, and exhausted students. The Dean stood near the podium, nervously adjusting his tie as he surveyed the carnage with wide, horrified eyes.
In the center of the chaos stood Jack, spotless as ever, calmly accepting her victory. The Dean, still clearly shaken, stepped forward to shake her hand.
“Uh… congratulations,” he said weakly, his voice barely carrying over the nervous murmurs of the audience. He glanced around at the mess, his face pale, clearly unable to hide his dismay. “W-Well played…”
The crowd clapped politely, though the sound was uneven. Many of the students who had been taken down by Jack’s unrelenting assault looked terrified, their eyes wide as they cast anxious glances in her direction, as if half-expecting her to take them out again.
In contrast, those who hadn’t had the misfortune of crossing paths with Jack wore expressions of annoyance or irritation. Legend, Wild, and (Y/n) stood off to the side, sulking with arms crossed, paint still dripping from their clothes.
Tess and Wind, on the other hand, looked like they’d just experienced the best day of their lives. Tess was still beaming, chatting excitedly with Wind about their earlier antics. “I told you! Absolute chaos, just like I said!”
Wind laughed, wiping paint from his hair. “Yeah, that was insane! I wanna come here when I’m of age.”
As the rest of the defeated students began to shuffle out of the arena, the Dean stepped up to the microphone, clearing his throat nervously. “A-And now, before we conclude this… uh… event, I’d like to announce the runner-ups, who will receive the spa weekend prize…”
Just as he was about to continue, he leaned a bit too close to the microphone and muttered under his breath, “This wasn’t even supposed to happen for another two weeks…”
The microphone, unfortunately for him, picked up every word, and the arena went dead silent for a split second before one confused student in the crowd stood up and yelled, “Wait, does that mean the prize is doubled?!”
The Dean froze, his eyes wide with panic as he waved his hands frantically. “No, no! That’s not— I didn’t mean—”
Before he could fully explain, another student shouted from the back, “So there’s still a chance for victory?!”
The tension in the air shifted immediately. Students began to stir, eyes lighting up as they processed what had just been said. In unison, almost like they had rehearsed it, the crowd roared to life, pulling out their paintball guns with renewed energy.
“Wait! No! Stop!” The Dean pleaded desperately, stepping back from the podium as students began to scream and charge across the battlefield once more, paintballs flying in every direction.
Pandemonium erupted. Paint splattered across the field as the chaos reignited, louder and more out of control than ever. The Dean tried to shout orders, but his voice was drowned out by the roars of students launching into the fray.
(Y/n)’s eyes widened in alarm as she ducked behind the nearest barricade. “Everyone, hide!” she screamed, motioning frantically for the others.
“Run!”
Hyrule dove behind a crate as paintballs zipped past his head. “Not again!”
Four, still drenched in paint from earlier, groaned as he took cover beside (Y/n). “I swear, if I get hit one more time…”
Warriors looked panicked as he dodged another net that had been shot in his direction. “I JUST GOT FREED FROM THE FIRST ONE!”
Twilight ducked from a few paint filled water ballon’s.
As paintballs flew through the air and the field descended into complete anarchy, (Y/n) peeked over the barricade just in time to see the Dean running for cover, shouting into his microphone, “Please! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”
But no one listened.
She quickly caught sight of Jack, still pristine and untouched by a single drop of paint. That deadpan expression only made (Y/n)’s paint-covered form itch for some petty revenge.
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, (Y/n) stood up and cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting over the noise, “How about a kiss from your big sister as a second prize?!”
Jack, who had been calmly observing the mayhem with her usual unreadable expression, blinked in surprise. Her gaze locked onto (Y/n) just as her older sister started sprinting toward her, arms outstretched with paint-covered hands, ready for vengeance.
For the first time that day, Jack’s expression faltered ever so slightly. She narrowed her eyes and immediately turned on her heel, sprinting away from (Y/n) at full speed, her paintball gun still bouncing on her shoulder.
“Get back here!” (Y/n) cackled, chasing her sister through the battlefield.
“Welp there she goes.” Tess comments.
“And leaves us here.” Nic adds.
“…”
“…”
Hyrule looks at the nervously. “Guuuys..?”
The two pull out their reloaded paintball guns.
“Guuuuuys…!”
Without another word, the two ran off to follow their cackling friend.
Warriors groaned, having had a third shot at him.
“Gods damnit, AFTER THEM!”
And so the chaos continued.
———
———
Time had been seated at his desk when everyone returned home, he hadn’t so much as looked up from the paperwork in front of him as he greeted them. “Welcome back.”
Time then tilted his head to the side, just as a throwing axe embedded itself into the wall right where his head had been. His only reaction was a faint sigh.
Four stood across the room, hand still raised from the throw, glaring daggers at him. “You knew. You knew about the paintball tournament, didn’t you?”
Hyrule, Twilight, and Warriors joined in with exasperated complaints, all looking equally disheveled and covered in remnants of paint. “Seriously?” Hyrule groaned. “You couldn’t give us a heads-up?”
Warriors crossed his arms, his normally immaculate hair and outfit still splattered with streaks of paint. “Worst prank you’ve ever done to date,” he muttered, shaking his head in frustration.
Twilight, still wiping paint from his hair, grumbled under his breath. “I had to crawl through two miles of paint-covered mud, Time. Two miles.”
Time, still unfazed, leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking up to meet theirs. “You didn’t ask,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
Meanwhile, Legend and Wild slunk into the room, sulking miserably. Both of them had clearly taken their defeat in the tournament hard. Legend scowled as he dropped into a chair, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe we lost.”
Wild, equally as sour, nodded in agreement. “It was rigged. I swear, Tess and Jack must’ve had inside information.”
Sky, who had been noticeably absent from the tournament, offered them a sympathetic look as he sat down nearby. “At least you got to spend time with (Y/n),” he said gently, his voice full of good-natured empathy.
For a moment, the room went quiet, the rest of the group collectively turning their attention to Sky with a suspicious squint. They exchanged a glance, each silently wondering why Sky hadn’t joined them in the chaos.
Noticing the stares, Time finally broke the silence. “Sky didn’t know about the tournament. He volunteered to handle everyone’s duties while you were gone,” he explained, his tone entirely matter of fact.
Then, with a slight pause, he added, “And regardless, I would’ve forbidden him from going. We all know he wouldn’t have stayed calm if he saw (Y/n) getting shot at. Paintballs or not.”
The others blinked, as if suddenly imagining the apocalyptic expression Sky would’ve worn had he seen (Y/n) in the line of fire.
The thought alone was enough to make them collectively shudder.
Sky pouted in response, his lips twitching in mild protest, but he remained quiet, clearly knowing that Time had a point.
As the conversation continued, Wild’s Sheikah Slate buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, his eyes scanning the screen for a moment before his lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Oy, Legend,” he muttered, nudging his fellow hero. “You’ve gotta see this.”
Legend, still sulking, glanced over at the screen, and his own pout immediately transformed into a smile. The two exchanged a knowing look, their earlier misery now replaced with something else.
Though no one noticed as they continued to complain to Time.
——
—————
——
The school had been closed all week, the aftermath of the chaotic paintball tournament still lingering like an unspoken legend amongst students and faculty alike. It was now the weekend, and the Chain had enjoyed the peace and quiet, until the sound of shuffling feet broke the serenity.
Legend and Wild were at the door, both looking rather pleased with themselves as they pulled on jackets and shouldered small bags, ready to head out. The rest of the group, scattered around the living room, looked up curiously.
“Where are you two going?” Twilight asked, leaning back in his chair.
“We’re cashing in on that runner up prize from the tournament,” Legend answered smugly, adjusting his bag strap.
Wild grinned. “Yep. Spa weekend, here we come.”
The room fell silent for a moment as everyone processed the information. Time, sitting at his desk nearby, glanced up with an annoyed but resigned expression. His face wore the look of a man who knew the full details but, for once, was powerless to stop it. He sighed and waved them off. “Just… don’t cause any trouble.”
Legend smirked as he opened the door, Wild close behind. “No promises.”
And with that, they were gone, leaving the rest of the group in a confused silence.
An hour passed in relative peace, until Hyrule, who had been absentmindedly flipping through a book, paused and frowned. “Wait a second,” he muttered, “Wasn’t (Y/n) also a runner up? She got taken out at the same time as Wild and Legend…”
The room froze.
Twilight and Four slowly exchanged glances, Warriors straightened in his seat, and Hyrule’s eyes went wide as realization set in.
The only sound in the room was Time’s heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples, and Sky let out a pitiful, resigned noise, somewhere between a whimper and a sad groan.
Within seconds, chaos erupted.
“Those bastards!” Wind growled, reaching for his phone.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Warriors shouted, already typing furiously.
“They took her with them?!” Four’s voice cracked as he sent out his own frantic text.
Phones buzzed and pinged as the Chain began bombarding Wild and Legend with messages. Some sent text after text, while others left scathing voice messages, each more demanding than the last.
Twilight’s voice was barely coherent as he left his message: “Explain yourselves. Now.”
Warriors was no better, his tone sharp: “You’ve got five minutes to respond, or we’re coming after you.”
Sky, looking utterly heartbroken, didn’t even bother typing, he just stared at his phone screen, looking like someone had kicked a puppy.
Meanwhile, Legend, Wild, and (Y/n) were lounging comfortably on cushioned chairs in an upscale spa.
A warm breeze carried the scent of flowers and fresh water, and the trio were perfectly relaxed. (Y/n) sat between Legend and Wild, the three of them surrounded by refreshments and snacks on a small table between their chairs.
Legend stretched with a contented sigh, taking a sip from his drink. “See? This is exactly what we needed after all that.”
Wild grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Best prize. No distractions, no one nagging us… just peace and quiet.”
(Y/n), her eyes closed as she relaxed, hummed in agreement. “We should do spas more often.”
Legend chuckled softly, his arm casually resting along the back of her chair. “Well, I won’t complain about that idea.”
Wild’s phone buzzed on the table, but he didn’t even glance at it.
The buzzing continued, both of their phones lighting up and vibrating with increasing frequency as message after message poured in.
Still, neither Wild nor Legend made any move to check them. The grin on Wild’s face only grew as the sound became more insistent.
“Think they’ve figured it out by now?” (Y/n) asked with a smirk, eyes still closed.
Legend gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, definitely. But we earned this.”
Wild snorted, popping a snack into his mouth. “Let ’em suffer.”
And with that, they ignored the incessant buzzing, eventually muting it, soaking up every second of their hard won spa weekend, leaving the rest of their companions in a frenzy of unanswered questions.
See you thought you were writing a fun little bit for your AU but what was ACTUALLY happening was you were writing free “Why Everyone Should Watch Community” Propaganda. If you’ve seen it you know why the Paintball Episodes are golden
Because I refuse to accept my earlier works as my standard when I KNOW they could be better. 😀
So enjoy!
Which bit is this rewrite? The Wedding bit!
I am PROUD to say! I have made absolutely sure the the victim of the chain’s anger was written to be as hatable as I could make them! And hopefully I made their fate worse than the original bit! I did my best to finally bring the vision in my head into my writing properly!
(….i need to learn how to make a master list for all my writing 😀)
….
…(I also need to start working on some asks…)
…(meh, later)
Enjoy my pretties!
—————
—————
‘I’ll be fine, guys!’
She totally should have seen this coming.
‘It’s Wars’ era; wandering the market alone won’t be that bad.’
The thought felt almost laughable now. These past few days had been way too calm for all of them.
‘I’ll be gone for an hour! Two hours tops! Promise!’
Of course, something like this had to happen.
Now she was dangling from a makeshift rope made of torn bedsheets, trying to escape through the window of a room she had been trapped in.
‘This. fucking. sucks!’
This is what happens when you jinx yourself. Everything had been fine; no, more than fine, for the first hour.
She’d browsed the market, admired some trinkets, and even petted a few dogs. That had been nice.
But by the second hour...
‘His Grace wishes to discuss some things with you.’
‘Sorry, I’m… flattered, but you got the wrong person. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable—’
‘That wasn’t a request.’
‘...What—?’
She should have known. There had been someone behind her, there always is. It’s when your guard is down that they strike.
And now she was halfway down a rope made of sheets, escaping a wedding she didn’t agree to, running from a Duke who thought he could just claim her.
‘I’m going to get lectured so badly after this!’ she muttered under her breath as she inched down the rope. She could already hear Time’s exasperated sigh, and Wild’s concerned scolding for sneaking off. Warriors would probably be furious that she hadn’t told him where she was going.
‘I’m not even a hero, dammit! I didn’t sign up for this kind of thing!’
Her feet dangled a few feet off the ground as she debated how to drop without making too much noise or hurting herself.
‘Damn you, laws of physics and gravity!’ she hissed.
As if the laws wanted to mock her, the knot at the top of the rope loosened, sending her plummeting into the bushes below.
‘Urk—branch! Branch!’ she winced, reaching behind her to pull a sharp stick out of her back, rubbing the area sorely. The bedsheet rope draped over her head like some absurd veil, and she tossed it aside with an irritated grunt.
She checked her hands quickly, no blood, thank god. But before she could plan her next move, she froze. Heavy thuds of metal clanked through the air.
Guards.
Her heart pounded as she ducked lower into the bushes, her breath catching in her throat. Peering through the leaves, she confirmed her worst fear: the guards were making their rounds, and judging by their armor, they weren’t from Hyrule.
‘Shit.’
She held her breath as they neared her hiding spot.
"Is the Duke really gonna marry that girl?" one of the guards asked, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather.
"Seems to be the case. He’s been real pleased with himself too. Wants the wedding done the moment we reach back home, from what I’ve heard. Wants to immediately leave after the peace talks in a week.”
A week? (y/n) bit her lip to keep from gasping aloud. This was worse than she thought. She didn’t have much time.
"Not surprised. Have you seen her? Bet he’s eager for the wedding night, if you catch my drift."
Laughter followed, and her stomach twisted in disgust. She grit her teeth, fury bubbling up in her chest.
"A beauty like that for a wife would sure boost his status. Shame I didn’t find her first.”
His companion laughed, “I hear you.”
Her fingers curled into fists. She wanted nothing more than to leap from the bushes and smack them both across the face. The idea of someone, anyone, talking about her like that...
But it wasn’t just that. The humiliation, the fear—they thought they could just control her, that they could strip away her autonomy like it meant nothing.
The guards passed by her hiding spot, oblivious to the glare she shot their way through the leaves.
Just keep walking, she thought darkly, gripping her dress to keep her emotions in check.
Once the guards were a safe distance away, she slowly exhaled and took stock of her situation. The good news? She wasn’t caught yet. The bad news? She was wearing a dress that restricted her movement and heels she could barely walk in, let alone run.
‘Great. Just great,’ she muttered under her breath, tugging the damn heels off and tossing them aside.
‘Can’t run or climb in these anyway,’ she thought, feeling slightly better as the cool ground met her bare feet.
Looking down at her dress, she felt a new surge of frustration. It was beautiful, kinda, sure, but that was the problem. She hadn’t picked it. It wasn’t for her—it was for the Duke, a symbol of control.
‘I need to get out of here. Now.’
She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do next. She could try to find a disguise, or maybe just rip the dress enough to give herself more mobility. The exit was close, but it would take some clever maneuvering to avoid getting caught.
‘Focus, (Y/N), focus,’ she told herself, peeking out from the bushes again.
This was not how she imagined today going. And the thought of the others being worried sick made her stomach churn with guilt. They would be searching for her by now, maybe even panicking.
‘I am never living this down,’ she groaned internally, her frustration mounting. The more she thought about the situation, the more aggravated she became.
Being kidnapped, forced into a ridiculous wedding dress, leered at by guards, this was just too much.
‘But I’m getting out of here. One way or another.’
With a deep breath, she picked up her dress, tore off a few layers of fabric, and quietly slipped out of the bushes. Time to make her move.
——
——
“WHERE. IS. SHE?!”
“Link, please—”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Zelda!” Warriors snarled, his voice trembling with rage as he stormed forward, his eyes wild. The way he moved had Wind biting his lip, already feeling the tension in the air thickening. This was going to explode, and soon.
Impa had barely finished giving her report when Warriors marched right up to the princess, standing toe to toe with her, his eyes burning with fury.
“Impa’s men are searching every inch of the castle and surrounding areas,” Zelda said steadily, though even Wind could tell she was rattled by the look in Warriors’ eyes. “We will find her.”
“It's been nearly a MONTH, and you have nothing to show for it!” Warriors’ voice cracked. His hand shot to his hair, raking it back, his knuckles white as if he were holding back from drawing his sword. “You’ve wasted time playing politics, while she’s, while she’s out there., who knows where!”
Zelda took a step back, her expression tightening, but her voice held firm. “You know I’ve been working day and night with—”
“The Grand Duke of the overseas kingdom, here to ‘promote peace and unity,’” Warriors spat the words like poison. “Oh, yes, VERY important while someone has gone missing under the ‘watchful eye’ of your men!” His voice was sharp and cutting, each word like a knife thrown in Zelda’s direction.
Wind shot a glance at Hyrule. He didn’t need to say anything. Hyrule’s wide eyes said it all, this was spiraling fast.
“My men?” Zelda’s voice dropped to a dangerous level, but her tone was ice. “I’ve had every guard in the city searching. We've blocked every gate, checked every exit, questioned every merchant. Don’t forget, these are your men too, Captain.”
Warriors’ eyes narrowed into slits. “Apparently not anymore. You’ve got them running errands and playing security for your little peace talks. I’m ashamed to call them my men at this point.”
“Excuse me?!” Zelda’s voice rose, her royal authority barely masking the fury underneath. Wind could practically feel the temperature in the room drop, and for a second, he wondered if they were about to witness something they couldn’t come back from.
“Warriors, cool it,” Wind whispered under his breath, knowing it was useless. When Warriors got like this, there was no reasoning with him.
“Your priorities have been clear from the start, haven’t they, Princess?” Warriors wasn’t backing down, his voice low and venomous. “The Duke arrives, and suddenly, the focus is all on making him comfortable, while she’s been gone for 3 weeks—three weeks—and what have you done? Talked?”
“Don’t you DARE.” Zelda’s voice snapped like a whip. “You think I *want* her to be missing? I’ve had every resource at my disposal searching for her, but this city is massive, and the Duke—”
“Oh, yes, the Duke!” Warriors threw his arms up in the air, pacing like a caged animal. “I wouldn’t even be hounding you so much if you’d just let me search his quarters! But no, ‘he’s a guest,’ you said. ‘He has nothing to do with it,’ you said. How do you know that, Zelda? How?”
“Because I do! I have been keeping an eye on him—”
“You mean distracting him while we scramble to find her? If he’s behind this, if anything’s happened to her because you—”
Zelda’s expression turned murderous. “How DARE you accuse me of not caring—”
“I'm not accusing you of not caring, Princess.” Warriors cut her off, his voice now trembling with the force of his frustration. “But I am accusing you of negligence. Letting him walk around while she—”
Zelda stepped forward, eyes blazing. “You think you’re the only one who’s worried, Warriors? You think I haven’t thought of every possible angle, every possible move that could have been made? But you cannot just accuse a royal guest without evidence! If I grant you access to his quarters without cause, it’s war!”
“As if our era isn’t already used to war!”
“War is what I am trying to prevent from happening again!”
For a moment, Warriors' hand twitched toward his sword. Wind saw it, Hyrule saw it, but Zelda seemed oblivious to how close he was to losing control. His entire body was tense, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
Wind glanced at Hyrule, who was nervously twisting his hands, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes. Wind felt it too. Enough was enough.
“This is going nowhere,” Hyrule muttered, leaning toward Wind. “We need to do something, or they’ll be at each other’s throats.”
“Yeah,” Hyrule whispered back. “But the storm’s making it difficult.”
“And Time, Wild, and Legend?”
“They’re talking with the merchants. Four and Sky are questioning the guards.”
Wind bit back a groan. They were running out of leads, but there was one place they hadn’t checked, somewhere they weren’t allowed to check. Wind’s gaze slid toward the guest wing. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Hyrule nodded grimly. “We’ve gotta sneak in. It’s better than standing here listening to this.”
Wind let out a sigh, straightening up. “Right. I’ll distract the walking volcano.”
He stepped forward. “Wars!” His voice was calm, but commanding enough to cut through the escalating argument.
Warriors spun around, his eyes still blazing with frustration. “What?!”
“Hyrule’s got a lead. I’m heading out with him to check it.”
For a moment, Warriors just stared at him, fists clenched, his body still taut with anger. Wind kept his face casual, but held the captain’s gaze in a way only a fellow hero could have, willing him to stand down.
After what felt like an eternity, Warriors grunted, then turned back to Zelda, still seething, but slightly less dangerous than before.
Wind shot Hyrule a look. “Let’s go.”
They slipped out of the room, leaving the arguing pair behind. Hyrule sighed in relief. “That was close.”
Wind nodded, shaking out the tension in his shoulders. “Too close. Impa’s still scouring the marketplace, right?”
Hyrule nodded as they moved quickly toward the guest wing. “Yeah, but she’ll be too focused there to notice us slipping in here.”
“Good,” Wind muttered, steeling himself. “Let’s get this done.”
They hurried down the hall, the sounds of the heated discussion echoing behind them, hearts pounding but minds set, knowing they were racing against the clock to find their missing beloved, and possibly uncover a truth that no one wanted to admit.
——
——
——
Time leaned against the wall of a rundown building, the crumbling stone cold beneath his back as the narrow alleyway closed in around them. The shadows made it hard to tell the time of day, but the stench of rot, dirt, and stale air was unmistakable. In front of him, Wild stood with a scowl, roughly shoving a folded cloth into his hand.
“Stubborn fools,” Wild bit out, glaring toward the darkened streets ahead. “You ask them a simple question, and they act like you’re pulling their teeth.”
Time pressed the cloth to his cheek, wincing as the pressure stung. He pulled it away for a moment to check. Blood. Still fresh. A tsk was heard, he glanced over at Legend who looked at him with a sidelong smirk. “Getting hit by a weakling like that,” he said, shaking his head. “You must be getting rusty.”
Time shot him a dirty look. “I wouldn’t have gotten hit if you hadn’t been so focused on asking your questions that you didn’t see him pull out that hammer. Perhaps you’re the one getting rusty.”
Legend scoffed, “The hell I am. Some people are too stupid to know their limits. Not my fault they sucker-punched you while you were distracted.”
Time grunted, pressing the cloth back to the cut. The blood slowed, but it was a stark reminder of how close they’d been to losing control. It had been days of dead ends, and the longer they searched, the more tempers flared. People were scared, angry, and keeping secrets.
The sound of padded footsteps caught their attention, and Time looked up as Wolfie approached, his muzzle stained with mud and his fur drenched from the storm. The wolf shifted as he neared, and in a blink, Twilight stood before them, frustration carved deep into his face.
“Nothing,” Twilight growled, running a hand through his wet hair. “Even if the Storm hadn’t washed out everything. It’s been weeks. No new scents, no leads. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”
Wild kicked at a piece of loose stone on the ground, sending it skittering across the alleyway. “Great. That’s just perfect.”
The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their failed efforts heavy in the damp air. The marketplace had turned up nothing. The guards had been tight-lipped, either clueless or too scared to say anything useful.
“We’re being played,” Legend finally muttered, leaning his back against the wall beside Time. “That tip from the merchant was too clean, too neat. Someone’s feeding us false information.”
Twilight growled low in his throat. “I knew it felt off. The bastard probably got paid to lead us in circles.”
Time wiped at the blood on his cheek and frowned. “Whoever it is, they know more than they’re letting on. And someone’s paying them well enough to stay quiet.”
“Or scared enough,” Wild added darkly, his arms crossing over his chest. “Could be either. Doesn’t matter though. They’ll slip up eventually.”
Twilight’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with frustration. “They think they can play us for fools. That we’ll just chase shadows while she’s...”
He trailed off, unable to finish, his hands curling into fists.
“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Time said, though even he couldn’t deny the bleakness creeping into his voice. “Whoever’s pulling the strings is leaving a trail. We just need to find it before it disappears.”
They stood for a moment longer, the only sound the faint moans of pain coming from deeper within the building they’d just left. The stench of blood still lingered in the air, mingling with the sourness of sweat and dirt.
Wild pushed off the wall first, his footsteps echoing in the alleyway. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s move.”
Time glanced back at the building, frowning at the fading sounds from inside. The man they’d questioned wouldn’t be giving them any more trouble, but he hadn’t given them anything useful either. The city was vast, and their enemies were hiding in the cracks, pulling the strings while they ran themselves ragged.
As they left the alley behind, the oppressive stench of blood and muffled groans were swallowed by the shadows
—-
—-
—-
(Y/n) crouched behind a large tapestry in the dimly lit room, her heart hammering in her chest. The cold stone floor beneath her did nothing to calm the fire of rage simmering in her veins. She hadn’t realized so much time he passed since that foreign Duke abducted her.
She felt sick to realize she had been been missing for nearly a month, dragged into the, apparently restricted at the Duke’s request, guest wing of the castle, and now she was overhearing the very man responsible for it all.
The Duke.
His voice, low and venomous, echoed through the halls. “Find her!” he hissed to his guards, pacing back and forth. “I don’t care how many walls you need to tear down or how many peasants you need to question. That woman is mine. Her disappearance is an embarrassment I will not tolerate!”
(Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, bile rising in her throat. She clutched her knees tightly to her chest, pressing herself further into the shadows behind the tapestry, trying to silence the sound of her frantic breathing.
“She will elevate my status beyond anything the nobles back home could dream of,” the Duke continued, his tone sickeningly triumphant. “Marrying such an exotic woman… the people here may be uncivilized and backward, but even they will recognize my superiority when I present her at my side.”
(Y/n)’s fists clenched as she listened. The disdain in his voice made her stomach churn. His words were dripping with arrogance, each syllable laced with contempt for the people of Hyrule.
“Pathetic, really,” the Duke sneered, his voice closer now, as though he were pacing just on the other side of the wall. “These Hylians and their so-called ‘heroes.’ They cling to outdated traditions and backward social norms, to so wholly believe in these ridiculous goddesses. Blind to what true civilization looks like. But they’ll see. They’ll all see.”
He paused, and (Y/n) could hear the faint rustle of fabric as he leaned closer to one of his guards. His voice lowered to a sinister whisper, though it was no less venomous. “Once I marry her, I’ll have the favor of the famed heroes of this kingdom. They seemed so attached to her. They’ll vouch for me, earn the favor of our king, and I’ll be able to solidify my control here. No one would dare defy me once I have their backing.”
He laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver of disgust down her spine. “Hyrule will fall into line, and I’ll rise even further back home. No one will question my power once they see the heroes standing by my side.”
The guards murmured in agreement, and the Duke continued. “And if she resists, well…” He chuckled darkly. “She’ll learn her place soon enough. A wife should know how to serve her husband. She’ll be disciplined into obedience, whether she likes it or not.”
(Y/n) bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, doing everything she could to remain in control. Her body trembled with barely contained fury and disgust, but she couldn’t let it out. Not now. Not when she was so close to being found.
She forced herself to take shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling slowly as she tried to quiet the storm inside her. The Duke’s voice grated on her nerves, but she couldn’t afford to lose control now. Her survival depended on staying hidden.
Another guard spoke, their voice muffled but stern. The Duke scoffed. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll have her found, and Hyrule will learn to bow to our superior kingdom soon enough.”
Her nails dug into her palms, her skin protesting the tightness of her grip as she squeezed her eyes shut even harder.
The thought of him dragging her away from everyone she knew, to force her in front of a foreign kingdom, of forcing her into a marriage for his gain, revolted her to her very core.
She could feel the burn of anger deep inside her, but she had to stay silent. She had to stay hidden.
Breathing in deeply through her nose and letting it out in controlled, quiet exhales, (Y/n) focused on calming her body, no matter how much her mind screamed at her to lash out, to fight. Her legs cramped painfully, but she didn’t dare shift, didn’t dare move a single muscle.
For now, she had to remain in the shadows. She had to wait for the right moment, to find a way out.
And when she did, she swore to herself, there would be hell to pay.
——-
——
——-
Warriors paced back and forth in the small side room, his steps quick and agitated, his breath heavy with frustration. The conversation with Zelda had spiraled out of control, ending with the princess sternly reminding him that under no circumstances was he to storm the guest wing. Not now. Not while she was still in delicate talks with the Duke.
He gritted his teeth, hands clenched into fists at his sides. She had dismissed him, brushed off his suspicions like they were nothing. But he knew. He knew that bastard Duke had something to do with it. His gut screamed at him, instincts honed from years on the battlefield, sharpened by countless encounters with deceit and betrayal.
The Duke had been eyeing (Y/n) from the moment Zelda had introduced the group to him. His gaze lingered too long, and his smile, that polished, slimy smile, barely hid the hunger behind his eyes. Every time the Duke spoke, he oozed charm, but Warriors had seen men like him before,!self-serving, arrogant, and dangerous in their subtlety.
But it was the way he pretended to be concerned for her that sent a pulse of fury through him. The Duke’s false words still echoed in Warriors’ mind, “I do hope the young lady is found safe and sound. Such a terrible thing to happen during such a peaceful visit.”
The image of the Duke’s fake sympathetic expression, his carefully rehearsed tone, made Warriors feel sick. He had to bite back the urge to lash out right then and there.
Safe and sound? No, that man didn’t care about her safety. He was only worried about his damned political games.
Warriors could feel the murderous thoughts bubbling up inside him, thoughts he was struggling to push down. If the Duke had any hand in (Y/n)’s disappearance... He didn’t need a sword to end the man’s life. No, he could already picture it—the Duke’s smug face contorting in pain, Warriors’ hands around his throat as he squeezed the life out of him. Slowly. He would take his time, watching as the fear bloomed in the man’s eyes. Watching as he realized he had made a fatal mistake.
The thought should have disturbed him, but it didn’t. Not anymore. The rage that had been boiling beneath the surface for the past week had numbed everything else. (Y/n) was out there, somewhere, possibly in danger, and this bastard was pretending like he had nothing to do with it.
Warriors' hands shook, not with fear, but with the barely restrained need to act, to do something. He couldn't stand it. But storming into the guest wing now, or throttling the Duke on the spot, wouldn't help. Not yet. He was under too much scrutiny, with Zelda and her royal guards watching every move.
No, he couldn’t move about as freely as he wanted, couldn’t act on his anger just yet. But he could keep the attention off the others. Time, Twilight, Wind—they were moving, searching, following their own leads. Warriors had to buy them time. He had to make sure no one started questioning where they were.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his back, forcing himself to regain control. The weight of his responsibility settled on his shoulders as he smoothed out his expression, wiping away the fury that threatened to break free. He couldn’t let it show. Not now.
He strode out of the room with purpose, his steps firm, but his mind already planning. If he couldn’t act against the Duke now, he could make sure that Zelda and Impa were too occupied to interfere. Keep them focused elsewhere. Keep the palace guards looking in the wrong places, while the others moved unseen.
First, he needed to find Impa. She had returned recently to report on the search efforts, and Warriors would make sure she and Zelda were kept busy—too busy to start questioning any absences.
If the Duke thought he could play games with them, he was dead wrong. And Warriors would make sure he didn’t get the chance to cover his tracks.
As he marched through the hallways, the image of (Y/n)’s smile flashed in his mind, followed by the overwhelming need to protect her, to find her before it was too late. He clenched his fists once more, his steps becoming more determined.
The Duke would regret ever laying eyes on her. And when the time came, Warriors would make sure of it.
——
—-
——-
Hyrule and Wind crouched in the shadow of a towering stone column, the cool night air of the guest wing stirring their cloaks. The guest wing of the castle, though technically part of the larger palace, felt worlds away from where the rest of the group and Zelda were. It was isolated, built for convenience but also privacy, which was exactly why they were there.
Beyond their hiding spot, Hylian guards patrolled the outer perimeter, their footsteps echoing softly on the stone paths. But inside the wing, the Duke’s personal guards were everywhere, pacing, watching, alert as if they were expecting something. Or worse, as if they were trying to hide something.
Wind’s voice was barely a whisper in the dark. "Why would someone have this many guards searching around like this unless they were hiding something?"
Hyrule pressed his back against the stone, eyes following the movement of two guards passing dangerously close to their position. "No one posts this many men unless they’re nervous about someone finding something," he murmured. “Definitely suspicious.”
They both waited in silence until the guards passed. Wind’s eyes darted from one end of the hallway to the other, clearly trying to figure out their next move. "Where do we start?” he asked, leaning closer to Hyrule. “The top floors? Bottom? If we go high, we can look for anything that might give us a view of what’s going on down here."
Hyrule nodded, biting his lip in thought. "But if there’s something they’re hiding, it’s probably hidden deep, right? Somewhere they think no one will look. We could start with the bottom floors—"
“Or they could be keeping something valuable up top,” Wind interrupted, eyes scanning the darkened windows of the upper floors.
A pause settled between them. Hyrule considered it before sighing, "Top floors, then. They’d expect someone to look below first."
With a shared glance, they crept through the shadows and made their way into the guest wing building, sneaking past the Hylian guards outside and slipping in through a side entrance. Inside, the hallway stretched ahead of them, dimly lit by the occasional torch, with a lavishness that was a stark contrast to the rest of the palace.
They slunk through the corridor, sticking close to the walls, their footsteps light and barely a whisper. At each corner, Wind would glance around, his instincts as sharp as ever, while Hyrule kept an eye out for anything out of place.
They climbed the stairs slowly, cautious not to draw any attention. Several doors lined the upper floor hallway, each one a possible lead, but they couldn’t afford to waste time searching them all. Time was precious. As they moved deeper into the guest wing, a sense of tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
Eventually, they found themselves in front of a door far more ornate than the others. Wind raised an eyebrow at Hyrule, and with a small nod, they slipped inside.
The room was richly decorated, luxurious rugs, heavy drapes, and expensive looking furniture. It was clear that this room belonged to someone of high importance.
“Where the Duke’s staying,” Hyrule whispered, eyes narrowing.
They began searching, carefully and quickly rifling through the drawers and shelves. Papers, documents, most of which Wind couldn’t make sense of. But as he sifted through a pile of letters, he paused, squinting at one.
"I can’t read this language," Wind muttered, his fingers tracing over the unfamiliar text. "But I’d recognize (Y/n)’s name anywhere."
Hyrule stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. “That’s her name, alright,” he confirmed, eyes hardening. “We need to keep these. Evidence."
Wind didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly tucked the letters into his tunic before they continued their search, digging through more documents and looking for anything that might give them a clue.
But just as Wind was opening another drawer, Hyrule’s ears twitched. He froze, his eyes widening. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered. “The guards... they’re getting louder.”
Wind straightened, his attention shifting to the noises outside. The once steady pace of the guards had turned frantic, footsteps quickened, orders barked in hushed tones. The two exchanged a look. They didn’t need to say anything; they both knew what it meant.
“They’re onto us,” Hyrule whispered.
Wind gritted his teeth. "We need to get out of here."
Without another word, they slipped back out of the Duke’s room, their movements fast and silent as they retraced their steps. But as they neared the exit, Wind suddenly skidded to a stop, his sharp intake of breath making Hyrule nearly crash into him.
“What?” Hyrule whisper-yelled, his voice barely above a breath. “What is it?”
Wind didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on something, a frown pulling at his lips. "I saw something," he muttered, his voice distant. He turned on his heel and bolted toward a door down the hall, leaving Hyrule no choice but to chase after him.
“Wind!” Hyrule hissed, following close behind. But Wind didn’t go far. He stopped abruptly at the door, his expression hard as he pressed his hand against it.
Hyrule caught up, his heart racing. "What are you doing?"
Wind’s frown deepened as he tested the handle. It didn’t budge. The door was locked tight, and it felt... wrong. He pressed his palm flat against the wood, eyes narrowing in concentration. “I... swore I saw something. Or heard it,” he muttered, shaking his head in frustration. For a moment, he seemed to contemplate something, his brows furrowing.
But then, he shook it off. "We should leave. Now."
Hyrule opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, sensing the urgency in Wind’s tone. With a reluctant nod, they turned and made their way back toward their exit.
.
.
.
.
Behind the door, muffled by its heavy wood, several guards stood holding it shut, their grips tight and faces tense. Inside, several more restrained a struggling figure, (Y/n), her body thrashing against their iron holds. One of the guards kept his hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her desperate attempts to scream.
Once they were sure the intruders had gone, one of the guards pressed his ear to the door. "They’re gone," he whispered.
The leader of the group turned to his men, his eyes cold. “Good. Bring her to the Duke. Now.”
(Y/n) screamed into the guard’s hand, her eyes wide with panic, but her cries were swallowed by the oppressive silence of the corridor. She kicked and fought, refusing to go down without a fight, but her captors held her fast, dragging her out of the room and down the dimly lit hallway.
The castle’s walls echoed with her muffled struggles, but no one came to her aid. No one heard her, save for the men who would deliver her to the one person she wanted nothing to do with the most.
——
——-
Warriors stood across from Zelda, his posture rigid, his hands clenched tightly behind his back. His voice was low, firm, barely restrained. "Either you help me find her," he began, each word deliberate, "or when we do find her—and we will—you will face immense shame for doubting me."
Zelda, sitting behind her desk, kept her gaze locked with his. Her expression was calm, but there was tension in her shoulders. "Captain," she said, her voice equally measured, "I am deeply concerned for (Y/n), more than you know. But I cannot, will not, risk instigating a war with the foreign kingdom over one person. As important as she is, and believe me, she is, I must think of my people, of the kingdom."
Warriors’ jaw tightened, biting back the retort that sprang to his mind. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had risked everything for a single person. He thought bitterly of Cia and the war of eras she had unleashed in her misguided obsession. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he took a breath, forcing the words down.
"One more time, Princess," he warned, his blue eyes locking with hers, cold and unwavering. "This Duke is hiding something, and you're blinded by your duty. When the truth comes out, and it will, you will regret not trusting me." His voice dropped even lower, carrying a dangerous edge.
Zelda remained composed, but her fingers curled slightly where they rested on the desk. Though her face showed nothing, Warriors could see the subtle shift in her stance, the way her body tensed as if bracing for the weight of his words. He had struck a nerve, even if she refused to show it.
Her reply was steady. "I cannot be reckless, Captain. You know that."
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken tension. Warriors stared at her for a long beat, then turned sharply on his heel, leaving the room without another word. His strides were quick and purposeful, but his mind was anything but calm. He moved through the halls in silence, his footsteps echoing in the vast corridors of the castle.
When he reached his room, he leaned against the door after closing it behind him. A heavy sigh escaped him as he closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body. But the relief was fleeting. His mind raced, his thoughts a storm of anger, worry, and frustration.
The room was quiet, too quiet. For a moment, he let himself stand there in the stillness, his heart pounding. Then, there was a faint sound—shuffling, the softest of movements.
His eyes snapped open.
---
(Y/n) hit the ground hard, pain radiating from her cheek where the Duke’s hand had struck her. She winced, one hand flying up to clutch the stinging skin, her fingers trembling. The world tilted for a moment, her vision swimming as she tried to gather herself.
The Duke loomed above her, his face twisted with fury, his eyes dark with something far more sinister than mere anger. "You stupid, insolent girl," he spat, his voice venomous. "Do you have any idea what you’ve cost me? Do you even realize how much trouble you’re in?"
(Y/n) didn’t answer. Her cheek burned, and her body felt heavy from the struggle against the guards. She managed to push herself up slightly, her eyes filled with defiance despite the pain.
The Duke’s lip curled in disgust as he glared down at her. "You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side since your group arrived." He stepped closer, towering over her. "But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you understand your place soon enough."
(Y/n) glared up at him, refusing to cower. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stay focused, trying to think of a way out of this.
"You won’t get away with this," she muttered, her voice hoarse.
The Duke laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "Oh, I already have."
——
———
——
The Duke's lips curled into a sickening smile, one he likely thought was charming, as he crouched down to meet (Y/n)’s gaze. His tone, dripping with mockery and condescension, was meant to sound sweet, gentle, almost affectionate. But the cruelty underneath it was unmistakable.
"Oh, my dear," he cooed, as though comforting a child, "you really don’t understand the opportunity you’ve been given, do you? The honor of becoming my wife? The status you’ll gain. Not just in this kingdom , but in my kingdom as well. You’ll be revered, admired by all. The people will look up to you as a noblewoman, married to someone of true importance." His smile widened as he stood, straightening his clothes with a casual air. "You’ll settle down once you return home with me. All of this fighting, this rebellion... it’s unbecoming. But it’s cute. You’ll learn soon enough that your place is by my side."
(Y/n)’s chest heaved with a mixture of rage and disgust, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. His words were vile, each one dripping with misogyny and entitlement, and she couldn’t hold back the sharp retort that burst from her. "I see right through you," she snapped, her voice laced with fury. "You’re pathetic. You have to resort to underhanded tricks to rise in status because you know you’ll never be anything on your own." She met his eyes, her glare defiant. "You think marrying me will get the heroes to vouch for you, don’t you? That somehow being tied to me will give you an edge, make you seem important. But they’ll see you for the snake you are."
The Duke’s face twisted in anger, his hand snapping up as though to strike her again, but (Y/n) didn’t flinch. Instead, she let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh, staring him down with a smirk. "Go ahead," she taunted. "Raise your hand again. But remember, no one wants a bruised bride, do they? It doesn’t matter what you do to me, Duke," she spat his title like a curse, "I’ll make sure everyone knows what kind of monster you are. Touch me again, and I’ll scream it from the rooftops."
For a moment, the Duke froze, his hand hovering in the air, his face a mask of fury. Then, slowly, he lowered it, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You little harlot," he hissed, his voice trembling with rage. "You dare speak to me like that?"
(Y/n) met his gaze, unyielding, even as her heart pounded in her chest.
"The talks with your pathetic princess are nearly over," he said, his voice regaining its cold, calculating tone. "And once they are, you will leave with me. There is no escape. You’ll be mine, whether you like it or not. As for your little group of so-called heroes..." He smirked cruelly. "Perhaps I’ll let them write to you, if they remain useful to me. But don’t get your hopes up."
He turned to leave but paused at the door, casting one more look over his shoulder. "And don’t even think about tearing your gown again. It’ll be remade, and if you ruin it once more..." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "There will be consequences."
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving (Y/n) alone in the cold, suffocating silence.
As soon as he was gone, the fury and frustration she had been holding back erupted. A scream tore through her clenched teeth, her entire body trembling with rage. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision as she pressed her palms to the stone floor, her nails digging into the cracks.
She wanted to punch him. To knock that smug, arrogant smile off his face and make him feel the pain he’d caused her.
Her hand drifted to her cheek, the skin still stinging from where he’d struck her. The tears finally spilled over, and she sniffled, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.
She wanted to be back with the others, where she was safe, where she didn’t have to endure this nightmare. Where she could hear their voices, their laughter, and feel the comfort of their presence.
——
——
——
The Chain moved differently now, more focused, deliberate. Their usual camaraderie was muted, their laughter and conversations replaced by an eerie silence that cloaked them like a shadow. They no longer exchanged pleasantries with Zelda or Impa, nor did they speak to any of the royal guards as they had before.
They were careful. They avoided the guest wing entirely, making Zelda suspicious, yet she could do nothing about it. They hadn’t broken any rules. They hadn’t acted out of line.
But something was off.
Her attention remained on the Duke, but doubt gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. The diplomatic talks were drawing to a close, but instead of relief, Zelda felt an unfamiliar tension rising within her. The Duke’s demeanor had changed. He seemed...happier. Almost too pleased.
His remarks, while outwardly appropriate, struck her as increasingly odd. Every time he expressed his sympathies over (Y/n)’s disappearance, it felt rehearsed, hollow, his words laced with a strange satisfaction she couldn’t quite place.
Zelda took a deep breath, forcing herself to dismiss the unease that coiled in her chest. "Things will turn out okay," she whispered under her breath, repeating the mantra like a spell. Link, was just overly worried, his protective instincts clouding his judgment. He had always been that way, especially when it came to people he cared about. This was all just...a misunderstanding.
But despite the calm she tried to project, the unease remained, simmering beneath her composure.
Several days passed in a haze of diplomacy and pleasantries. The talks concluded, and everything seemed to be falling into place. Yet the uneasy feeling that had plagued Zelda refused to leave, growing stronger with each passing hour.
Now, standing in her chambers, Zelda felt her stomach drop as she stared at the translated letters and documents laid out before her.
Her hands trembled as she traced the familiar writing, the unmistakable references to (Y/n), and she felt her heart pound in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears. The words blurred slightly, but there was no denying their meaning.
.
.
.
She had been wrong.
Across the room, Warriors stood with his arms crossed, his gaze cold and unblinking as he stared down at the documents. His expression, once filled with frustration and warning, had turned to something far more unsettling: icy, controlled fury. Impa stood beside him, her face a mask of stoicism, but even she couldn’t hide the tension in her voice as she reported her own findings from the foreign guards she had interrogated.
Zelda’s breath hitched, and she pressed her hands to the table to steady herself. Her vision swam for a moment, and she wished with everything in her that this wasn’t real. That she had been right all along. That she hadn’t been so very wrong.
But the truth was undeniable, and it hit her like a hammer.
Warriors’ gaze remained fixed on her, cold and unrelenting. There was no anger in his voice when he spoke, but the words cut deeper than any reprimand. "I warned you," he said quietly, his tone almost indifferent, as though he had resigned himself to the inevitability of this moment.
Zelda swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure, but her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at any of them. She had doubted them. And now...
She had been so terribly wrong.
——-
———-
——-
The Duke paced back and forth in his chambers, watching with satisfaction as his servants hurried to pack his belongings. Everything was proceeding as planned. He could already envision his triumphant return home his ship laden with wealth, power, and his soon-to-be bride.
He smiled arrogantly to himself, imagining the rise in his status, the envious looks of the other nobles. Of course, it was only natural. His noble blood, his impeccable lineage, was destined for greatness. The girl, (Y/n), should consider herself blessed to stand beside him as his wife.
"She’ll settle down," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his cuffs with a self-satisfied grin. "Once she realizes her position... she’ll understand how fortunate she is."
His reverie was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps. One of his guards rushed into the room, eyes wide and face pale with unease. "M-My lord," the guard stammered. "You’re needed in the throne room. The princess has summoned you."
The Duke's mood darkened instantly. "The throne room? What could she possibly need at this hour?" he complained, irritation lacing his voice. He had to retrieve his bride from her chambers. He had far more important matters to attend to, like ensuring his ship was ready for departure.
Before the guard could answer, Impa appeared in the doorway, her expression impassive. She stood tall, unmoved by his complaints. "Your presence is requested by Princess Zelda," she said firmly.
The Duke glared at her, puffing up his chest in indignation. "I am a nobleman, Lady Impa. Surely, whatever the princess wishes can wait until I’ve—"
"It cannot," Impa interrupted, her tone cold and unwavering. "The princess is waiting, and it would be... unwise to keep her waiting any longer."
The Duke’s scowl deepened, but something in Impa's gaze told him there was no room for negotiation. Still, too confident in his own success, he relented with a huff. "Very well, I shall go. But this had better be brief," he muttered as he followed her down the corridors.
When they arrived at the throne room, Princess Zelda was already seated, her face calm and unreadable. The Duke forced a polite smile, bowing low in a show of respect. "Your Highness," he said smoothly, "I hope I haven’t kept you waiting. I understand you are quite busy, especially with my impending departure."
Zelda inclined her head slightly, her tone neutral. "I appreciate you taking the time from your preparations to attend to this matter."
The Duke straightened, his eyes sweeping the room. His heart leapt when he noticed the heroes, the Chain, standing off to the side. For a brief moment, greed flashed across his face. The heroes, known throughout the realms, were looking at him with mild curiosity, but there was no suspicion in their eyes. Perhaps he could further ingratiate himself with them...
He smiled and stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Ah, the heroes of legend. What an honor to meet such esteemed individuals. I am the Duke of—"
"We know who you are," Time interrupted calmly, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. "Just as you know who we are."
The Duke’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, laughing lightly as if Time’s response were a friendly jest. "Of course. Well met, indeed."
Zelda cleared her throat, drawing the Duke's attention back to her. "There have been... rumors circulating as of late," she began, her tone still calm, though a slight edge crept into her voice. "And I would like to clear them up before your departure. An outside perspective may help us resolve this matter."
The Duke’s confidence swelled once more. He could play the part of the nobleman offering his assistance. "Of course, Your Highness. I would be more than happy to offer my insight."
Zelda smiled briefly before her expression turned serious, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Tell me, Duke. Have you abducted the heroes’ companion in an attempt to wed her and elevate your status between our kingdoms?"
The question landed like a blow. The Duke froze, his heart skipping a beat. His mind raced as he struggled to maintain his composure. He forced a smile, though it was far more strained this time. "I-I’m not sure I understand, Your Highness..."
"You know exactly what she means," Warriors spoke up, his voice a low growl as he stepped forward. His blue eyes, cold and piercing, locked onto the Duke. "You know, of course, the identity of our dearest companion, correct?”
The Duke’s heart began to race, but he kept the smile plastered on his face, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Ah, yes, Lady (Y/n)... It is truly terrible how she has gone missing. I had hoped to meet her properly. I have always admired her bravery and strength..."
Warriors’ eyes narrowed, studying him for a long moment before relaxing ever so slightly. "Odd, don’t you think?" he said, his voice deceptively calm. "She vanished without a trace, yet no evidence, no sign of struggle, was found where she was last seen. Nor anywhere else in town. It’s almost as if... someone took great care to ensure there would be no trace."
The Duke felt the sweat begin to form on his brow. He forced a nervous chuckle. "It is certainly strange, yes. But I assure you, I know nothing of her disappearance. Still, I will offer any help I can. Perhaps... my resources might assist in the search?"
Zelda's eyes bore into him, unblinking. "Of course, Duke," she said softly, "you have expressed your concern for her safety many times and it is only right we ask you to assist us before you leave."
The room fell deathly silent. The Duke's smile faltered as the weight of tension hung in the air, his confidence beginning to crack under the pressure.
The Duke’s smile faltered, though he tried to hide it behind a facade of confusion. His voice remained calm, though there was a growing tension in his words. “I truly don’t understand what you are implying. This must be some kind of misunderstanding.”
Warriors scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “I’m sure you hope it’s a misunderstanding,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Zelda.
Zelda sighed, raising her hand slightly. “Enough,” she said, her voice calm but laced with authority. “We all know exactly what this situation is about.”
The Duke blinked, his unease deepening as Zelda’s gaze pierced through him. She took a breath, her tone steady as she spoke. “We know what you’ve done, Duke. You abducted (Y/n), intending to wed her in some twisted scheme to raise your status between our kingdoms.”
Her words hung in the air, the disbelief just barely audible in her tone, though her composure remained flawless. The Duke could feel his heart pounding, but he forced a smile, trying to salvage the situation. “Your Highness, I—”
“She’s not pleased about being taken by the likes of you,” Twilight said, cutting him off. His arms were crossed, his voice low with a simmering anger barely contained.
The Duke’s jaw clenched, his fists trembling as his composure began to slip. His lips curled into a tight sneer, though he tried to maintain a semblance of control. “I will not be spoken to in such a manner!” he spat, his voice rising in pitch. “Princess Zelda, if you even think our kingdoms will ever be allied after this, after I speak to my king, you have another thing coming.”
Warriors, leaning casually against a pillar, glanced at him with a cold smile. “If your homeland is filled with arrogant scum like you, Hyrule will be far better off without an alliance.”
Zelda shot Warriors a sharp look, but he returned it with an icy stare that made her look away, her lips tightening in disapproval.
The Duke was livid now, his face flushed with rage. “You have no proof!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall. “No proof at all! I never imagined I’d be disrespected in such a way, especially by a princess whose own control over her soldiers is so... lacking.”
His insult was veiled, but the implication was clear. He smirked slightly as Zelda narrowed her eyes at him, even as the tension in the room thickened. “I have no interest in assisting anyone who would dare accuse me of such—”
He turned sharply on his heel, preparing to storm out of the throne room, when something solid and unforgiving struck him hard across the face. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, his world spinning as stars exploded in his vision.
He lay on his back, stunned and dazed, his hand pressing against his cheek where he had been struck. A dull ringing filled his ears, and as he groaned, trying to sit up, a voice reached him, cold, furious, and all too familiar.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”
His breath hitched in his throat as he slowly lifted his gaze. Standing over him was (Y/n), dressed in her usual tunic and pants, her hand still clenched into a tight fist. She was glaring down at him with an intensity that chilled him to his core.
The Duke’s heart sank as reality crashed down upon him. His plan, his entire scheme, had just fallen apart in a single, humiliating moment. And there, standing before him, was the very woman whose life he had sought to manipulate.
Her eyes blazed with fury as she looked down at him, and for the first time, the Duke felt a deep, gnawing fear that his plan wasn’t going the way he wanted it to.
——
——-
—-
(Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, the cold darkness of the room pressing in around her. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her knees, trying to ground herself, but the pain in her cheek pulsed, a constant reminder of her failed escape. She sniffled, though not out of sadness, her frustration and anger were boiling under the surface. The increased patrols made it impossible to find an opening, and her latest attempt to flee had been met with failure.
Tears welled up again, stinging her eyes, and she bit down on her lip. But these weren’t tears of despair—they were born from sheer rage. Through clenched teeth, she muttered, “I’m going to make him regret taking me… he’s going to pay for this.”
She buried her face in her knees, shaking with fury. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in, and she hadn’t noticed the slight movement along them. Something had slipped through the small crack in the window, moving silently across the shadows. Another presence followed it, a ball of deep green light, small but vibrant, floating into the room like it belonged.
The dark shape continued its crawl along the wall, eyes locked on her from the shadows. The green light slowed, hovering closer to where (Y/n) sat, its soft glow a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness.
(Y/n) remained as she was, struggling to calm herself, talking to no one in particular. “I won’t give up,” she whispered fiercely. “I’ll gouge out that stupid Duke’s eyes if he tries to touch me again.”
The bed shifted beneath her as a weight slowly pressed down next to her. Her heart jumped, and she snapped her head up, prepared to scream at whoever had come in, assuming it was the Duke or one of his guards.
But her voice caught in her throat. There, staring down at her with wide, familiar blue eyes, were three faces she never thought she’d see again.
Legend. Hyrule. Wind.
For a moment, she was frozen, the disbelief crashing over her like a tidal wave. They were just as shocked, their emotions shifting rapidly, but one thing was clear on their faces, horror. Legend's gaze was fixed on her cheek, on the dark bruise marring her skin.
"(Y/n)..." Legend whispered, his voice low, rough with restrained anger. He frowned deeply, his expression hardening. “Was it the Duke? Did he do this to you?”
Hyrule was already lifting a hand toward her, his fingers glowing faintly with healing magic, his touch gentle as he reached for her bruised cheek. Wind, meanwhile, had his pirate’s charm in hand, speaking in a whisper to the others on the other side of the line. The charm was connected to Wild’s slate, allowing the rest of the heroes to hear. “We found her. She’s exactly where I thought she’d be.”
(Y/n) blinked, her mind racing to catch up with what was happening. “H-how…?” she stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Wind, still glancing at her as he spoke into the charm, turned his attention back to her with a soft, apologetic smile. “We never stopped looking. I saw you, just for a second, before the guards took you around the corner and through that door. I could hear you through the door, but... I couldn’t do it alone, not with just Hyrule. We had to pull back and regroup, find the others, plan out how to get you out.”
His expression darkened with sadness as he continued. “We were so close, but we had to retreat. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you sooner.”
Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from anger. She let out a small, shaky laugh, relief flooding through her as the tension of the past few days melted away. “I don’t care,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t care how long it took. You found me.”
Before any of them could react, she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around them tightly, her body shaking with quiet sobs of relief. Legend, Hyrule, and Wind all stilled for a moment before they returned the embrace, each of them murmuring soft apologies and reassurances into her hair.
“You found me!” she said again, her voice a mixture of laughter and tears as she held them close. “You found me.”
She then burst into tears, holding onto them for dear life. The relief of being found so strong it tore down the brave face she had on this whole time.
—-
——-
—-
Once (Y/n) had calmed down, Legend slipped Ravio's bracelet onto his wrist, its power thrumming faintly as it activated. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around her waist and nodded to Wind, who gripped her shoulder tightly. The next second, (Y/n) felt her body shift as they melted into the wall, blending into the stone, now part of the very structure of the building.
The sensation was strange at first, but (Y/n) was too focused on getting out to care.
Legend pulled them along slowly, careful to keep his pace measured. Wind, with his typical energy, seemed uncharacteristically focused, scanning every shadow for potential danger. Above them, Hyrule shifted into his fairy form, his tiny glowing figure darting ahead and around corners, silently signaling to the group when guards were passing or when they needed to halt and wait.
The quiet was tense but necessary. They moved like shadows, avoiding detection by inches as guards patrolled the halls. Every time a guard came near, Hyrule would zip back, his hands waving frantically for them to stay still. The minutes felt like hours, but finally, after navigating the sudden maze of the the guest wing, they slipped out into the night air and made their way back to where the rest of the heroes were waiting.
The moment (Y/n) was led into the small clearing where the group had made a temporary camp beyond the castle walls, it was like a dam had broken. She barely had time to take in the sight of them, Time, Sky, Twilight, Wild, Warriors, Four, before they were all moving toward her, each of them enveloping her in hug after hug.
She cried again, the sheer joy of being back with them, safe. Each hero had the same expression, utter relief and unbridled joy that she was back with them, whole and alive.
They held her as though they couldn’t bear to let go, each of them murmuring apologies, pressing their foreheads against hers, reassuring her over and over that she was safe. She could hardly breathe through the overwhelming flood of emotions.
Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she clung to them, the weight of everything finally settling. “Please… I..I need to get out of these clothes,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “They took my favorite ones when they captured me.”
Before she could say anything more, Sky stepped forward, pulling something from his pouch. It was a pair of familiar pants and a tunic, her clothes. “I made sure to purchase duplicates,” he said softly, a gentle smile on his face. “I always kept a set with me, just in case. I thought… well, I thought you might need them someday.
She stared at him, eyes wide, and without thinking, she blurted out, "I could kiss you for this."
Sky flushed a deep red, his eyes widening for a moment before he coughed into his hand, trying to compose himself. "Just… doing what I can," he muttered with a small smile.
The others, still surrounding her, began to apologize once again, each of them looking torn between guilt and relief. But she shook her head, cutting them off before they could continue.
“We can talk about all that tomorrow,” she said, her voice still shaky but firm. “Right now… I just want to get as far away from that place as possible, use one of you as a hugging pillow, probably cry a bit more.”
She sniffled, “ Just…don’t leave me alone. Please? Not for a second.”
The tension in the air dissipated slightly as the heroes exchanged soft smiles and nods of understanding.
Carefully they led her away from the castle. Leading her towards the inn in town they had paid for rooms in.
That night, they took turns letting her cling to them, none of them leaving her side. They slept in the same room, surrounding her with their warmth and presence, posting themselves by the windows and the door for her peace of mind. For the first time in days, she slept without fear. Falling asleep to arms wrapped around her and kisses pressed on the top of her head.
——
---
——
Morning came slowly, the light creeping into the room as (Y/n) woke with a start, her heart racing. For a split second, she panicked, her mind spinning, believing she was still trapped in that horrible place. But then, an arm wrapped around her, pulling her towards the person, a hand gently rubbing her back.
It was the scent that helped her settle further.
Of hounds and goats, and forests.
She looked up to find Twilight beside her, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The others stirred around her, each of them waking with the same soft, tired smiles. "You’re safe," Twilight murmured quietly, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re with us. Go on, say it back.”
Tears pricked at her eyes again, but she bit them back, taking deep, steadying breaths. "I’m with you," she repeated, grounding herself in the present.
“Atta girl.”
Wild, havjng left while they slept to make breakfast, had whipped up one of her favorite meals for breakfast. The moment the familiar smell hit her nose, her emotions caught up with her, and she burst into tears once more.
The heroes all jumped in panic, worried something had gone wrong. "What happened? Are you okay?" Wild asked, rushing over, his face full of concern.
“I… I didn’t think I would miss this taste,” she had a wobbly smile, laughing through the tears. "But I missed it so much."
They quickly gathered around her, offering her comfort as she cried, until finally, her tears slowed.
They all sighed in relief, and after a few more minutes, (Y/n) calmed down, taking small bites of the meal as they all sat around her.
Once she had eaten and bathed, feeling more like herself for the first time in a month in the clothes Sky had given her, she told them everything. How she was taken, who had done it, and the Duke’s twisted plans for her.
The air around the camp turned cold, their faces darkening with anger. Their rage only deepened when she told them about how the Duke had struck her. Wind and Hyrule looked devastated, their faces filled with guilt as they lowered their eyes.
Before they could utter a word, she raised her voice, firm and unyielding. "Don’t," she said, her eyes blazing. "Don’t you dare blame yourselves. You did everything you could to protect me. I don’t like that I was hit, but I would rather take one hit if it means you found me when you did."
Hyrule, his eyes still brimming with guilt, lifted his hand and gently pressed it against her bruised cheek, sending a soft wave of healing magic through her. There hasn’t been much pain the first place since he first healed it but remaining pain melted away as the last traces of the bruise disappeared. "I’m sorry," he whispered softly.
She leaned into Twilight’s arms as he pulled her against him, wrapping his arm securely around her. She allowed herself to breathe for a moment, the tension slowly leaving her body.
Warriors left the room in silence, his steps heavy but deliberate. As the door closed behind him, the air in the room seemed to lighten, but the tension wasn’t gone, just shifted. Time waited a few moments before following, slipping out into the hallway to find Warriors.
Down the hall, Warriors stood by a large window, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes were fixed on the distant silhouette of the castle, the source of all their troubles. The morning light cast a glow over him, he seemed calm, but Time could see the whites of his knuckles as he gripped his arms, holding himself together as tightly as he could.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Warriors broke the silence, his voice low but full of barely restrained fury. “I want nothing more than to shake Zelda for not believing me. For dismissing my warnings,” he muttered, his jaw clenching. “And the Duke… I want to personally hurt him with my own two hands for what he planned, for what he already did to her.”
Time didn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. He knew that feeling well, the burn of rage simmering beneath the surface. “You’re not wrong to feel that,” Time said finally, his voice calm but understanding. “I feel the same way. I’d like nothing more than to make him pay for what he’s done.”
Warriors’ shoulders relaxed slightly at Time’s words, but the tension still held him rigid. “Then what are we supposed to do with that?” Warriors asked, his voice hoarse with frustration. “That anger, it’s just sitting there, and I can’t get rid of it.”
Time stepped closer, resting a hand on the windowsill beside Warriors. “We use it,” he said firmly. “We focus it on getting justice for (Y/n). This isn’t about satisfying our rage; it’s about making sure she’s never hurt like this again. We take that anger, and we channel it into action. Into planning.”
Warriors stared at the castle a moment longer, then nodded, though his fists remained clenched. “I’ll do that,” he said quietly. “For her.”
Time gave him a brief, approving nod before turning back toward the room. As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll tell her you went to patrol around the building for a moment,” he said. “Take this time to calm yourself before you come back.”
Warriors said nothing, but Time could sense the gratitude in his silence. With a final glance, Time returned to the others, leaving Warriors alone with his thoughts, the faint light of the castle still casting its shadow over the town.
———
——
———
The room was still as her voice faded. (Y/n) slowly lowered her fist, her chest rising and falling as she took a deep breath. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That. Felt really good," she muttered under her breath.
Zelda, standing beside her, let out a short huff of amusement. "I’m sure it was," she said, her tone light, though her eyes stayed fixed on the Duke, who was still staring at (Y/n) in disbelief, his cheek already bruising. The silence stretched, the tension in the room palpable as all eyes turned toward the disgraced nobleman.
Zelda straightened, her expression hardening as she addressed him. "I have several questions, Duke," she began, her voice cold but measured. "How exactly did you think this plan of yours would work? Kidnapping someone of her standing, did you truly believe you could force her hand in marriage and no one would question it?"
The Duke's face twisted, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Warriors stepped forward, cutting him off with his own biting words. "Your plan had more holes than you realized," he said coldly. "The marriage wouldn’t have lasted a moment once it was discovered that she was unwilling. You thought bribing officials and keeping her hidden would fool us forever?" He shook his head, disgust coloring his voice. "It was only a matter of time before it unraveled. You were a fool if you thought otherwise."
The Duke’s face turned a deep shade of red, his fury rising at being called out so plainly. His hands clenched at his sides as he shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "You dare speak to me this way? I demand reparations for this grave insult!" he shouted. "This slander against my name will not—"
Before he could finish, Impa stepped forward from the shadows, her voice calm but lethal. "Slander?" she echoed, her gaze sharp. "I hardly think so, considering what we found in your quarters. Documents, letters, correspondence with bribed officials. You paid them to turn a blind eye, to pretend they hadn’t seen her."
A murmur rippled through the room as the weight of Impa’s words sank in. The Duke’s face paled, his fury giving way to panic as he realized how exposed he truly was. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, his rage crumbling into disbelief.
Warriors’ expression darkened, his icy gaze settling on the Duke. "You’re finished," he said simply, his tone unforgiving. There was no satisfaction in his voice, just a cold, calculating edge.
For a brief moment, Zelda’s face flickered with something close to shame. She quickly masked it before the Duke could notice, turning her attention back to him, her voice steady. "Your actions have consequences, Duke," she said, her tone regal and final. "And you will face them."
Zelda's expression remained steely as she turned her cold gaze back to the Duke. "The officials you bribed will suffer the same fate," she said icily, watching as the color drained from the Duke’s face. "Their involvement in this conspiracy will not go unpunished."
The room seemed to grow colder, tension thick in the air. Zelda shifted her focus to (Y/n), her voice softening, though still serious. "While we all know the answer, (Y/n)," she began, "I must still ask you formally, was it the Duke who orchestrated your abduction with the intent to force you into marriage?"
Without hesitation, (Y/n) lifted her chin and answered firmly, "Yes."
Zelda gave a short nod, her expression one of grim determination. "Then it is decided. I will arrange for the Duke’s immediate departure." Her tone left no room for argument, her words carrying the full weight of her authority as the Princess of Hyrule.
The Duke, suddenly realizing the gravity of his situation, surged to his feet, his face red with fury. "You can’t do this!" he bellowed, his voice shaking with desperation. "I demand—"
Zelda didn’t flinch. She stared down at him, her icy gaze unyielding. "You are no longer welcome within the borders of the Hyrule Kingdom," she declared, her voice as sharp as a blade. "From this moment forward, you are outlawed and forbidden from ever returning to our lands."
The Duke's face flushed a deep crimson as Zelda's words cut through the room. His composure cracked, and he shot to his feet, voice trembling with barely contained fury. "You can't do this!" he bellowed, slamming a fist onto the table before him. "I demand reparations for this insult! I am a noble of considerable standing! You cannot simply throw me out like common filth!"
Zelda, unimpressed, remained calm, though her eyes blazed with cold authority. "Your title means nothing when weighed against your crimes. Hyrule will not be blackmailed by the likes of you."
The Duke’s lip curled in disdain, his tone shifting as he desperately tried to appeal to reason. "This is all a misunderstanding! I was only thinking of the kingdom! A union with someone as... independent as Lady (Y/n) would have strengthened ties. I saw an opportunity to guide her, to help her understand the complexities of noble life. It was for the good of the realm—"
"Forcing someone into marriage is hardly a diplomatic solution," Zelda interrupted, her voice hard.
The Duke ignored her, eyes narrowing as he turned toward (Y/n). "And as for you, Lady (Y/n)," he spat, his words coated with venom, "I suspect you enjoyed the thought of having my power and status. Isn’t that what this is really about? You've must have resented your place in the world, haven't you? You crave more. Why else would you go through such trouble, surrounding yourself with these so-called heroes? If you’d just accepted the offer, none of this would be happening."
(Y/n) stared at him, her anger barely held in check, but before she could retort, the Duke turned his attention to the Chain. His eyes flicked between them as if trying to gauge which one might be swayed by his manipulative words. "And you," he said, adopting a falsely genial tone, "surely you understand how these things work. Men of our stature, of our experience, must sometimes take necessary actions for the greater good. You cannot possibly condone such insolence from one as lowborn as her."
The heroes’ expressions darkened, each of them standing a little straighter, shoulders tensing. But it was Warriors who stepped forward, the calm command of his noble training radiating from him like a sword unsheathed. He inclined his head slightly, addressing the Duke in a measured, almost pleasant tone.
"I must admit, it is a rare thing to witness such a... unique perspective on marriage and nobility," Warriors began, his voice smooth, his smile thin. "But your words, how… interesting. You believe dear (Y/n)’s resistance is due to her desire for power and status, is that correct?"
The Duke, sensing an opportunity, straightened his spine and smiled smugly. "Indeed. Women often dream above their station, after all. It’s in their nature to be ambitious, to latch onto those who can elevate them." He glanced at Zelda, his tone condescending. "Even the most... esteemed among them need guidance."
Warriors nodded thoughtfully, as if in agreement, and the Duke, emboldened, continued, "Exactly! It's the duty of men like us to make the difficult decisions. Women, you see, they don't understand the weight of responsibility that comes with power. They get emotional, irrational—"
"Interesting," Warriors said, cutting him off. His expression hardened, all traces of civility draining from his voice. "Because from where I stand, it seems you're the one whose emotions are driving your actions. Manipulating officials, forging documents, and resorting to brute force to get what you want, sounds like desperation, not diplomacy."
The Duke's smugness faltered. "I... I merely sought to secure what was rightfully mine!"
"You speak of women needing guidance," Warriors continued, his voice turning sharp, eyes flashing with anger at his words, "yet it appears you're the one who needed guidance. You thought coercion, lies, and violence were the answer. And when faced with resistance, you attempted to shame Lady (Y/n) and Her Highness, as though they were the ones at fault for your crimes." He gestured to the rest of the Chain, who stood, eyes burning with disgust. "Do you really think any of us would support you? You’ve proven yourself to be nothing more than a coward."
The Duke, realizing he’d been led into a trap, turned a deep shade of red, his hands shaking. "I-I—how dare you speak to me like this! I won’t be lectured by some glorified soldier—"
Before he could finish, he sneered as he looked at (y/n) who scoffed, the Duke lunged at (Y/n), rage overtaking him. His hand shot out, aimed to strike her, but (Y/n) was ready. She stepped forward, her fist flying before the Duke could lay a finger on her. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back.
(Y/n) didn’t stop there. As the Duke clutched his face in shock, she delivered a swift, brutal kick to his crotch. He doubled over, gasping for air as he collapsed to his knees, groaning in pain.
"I was wrong about the earlier hit," (Y/n) said, glaring down at him, "THAT one felt really good."
Impa, along with the royal guards, stepped forward immediately, seizing the Duke by his arms and dragging him to his feet. "Take him," Zelda commanded, her voice cold and final. "Escort him to retrieve his belongings and see to it that he leaves our kingdom immediately."
The Duke, still doubled over and groaning, could only offer a weak protest as the guards hauled him away. Impa followed silently, her presence a dark shadow looming behind the fallen noble.
Zelda watched them leave, her expression impassive, before turning to (Y/n). "Well done," she said softly, her voice carrying an air of finality. "It seems justice has been served."
Zelda stood in silence for a moment, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her gaze shifted from the door where the Duke had been dragged away, then back to (Y/n). She took a slow breath, and when she spoke, her voice was softer, more uncertain.
“I... owe you an apology,” Zelda said, meeting (Y/n)’s eyes. “For not believing in you or in what Warriors had tried to tell me. I should have listened sooner.”
(Y/n) exhaled slowly, crossing her arms as she considered her words. "Logically, I get it. You were stuck between me and your entire kingdom, and your hands were tied in a lot of ways. I understand that.”
Zelda gave a small nod, hope flickering in her eyes.
“But emotionally,” (Y/n) continued, her voice tightening, “it still hurt. A lot. It’s going to take me a while to forgive you for that. Just because I understand doesn’t mean my emotions fall in line. There was a moment where it felt like it was me against everything, and you were standing with him.”
Zelda’s face fell, though she tried to mask her hurt behind a fragile smile. “I see... I’m sorry that I caused you pain, and I don’t expect your forgiveness right away. I just want you to know that I’m grateful you understand, even if only logically.”
(Y/n) gave a curt nod. “I know I’ll forgive you eventually. But I just need time.”
Zelda bowed her head slightly. "Take all the time you need. Thank you for being honest with me." She hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. Before she passed through the door, she glanced at Warriors, her expression apologetic, almost pleading for some kind of acknowledgment or absolution.
Warriors, however, merely looked back at her with hollow eyes, no anger, no hatred, just a cold, unreadable emptiness. Zelda’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she quickly left without another word.
Once she was gone, the tension in the room broke. Several of the heroes immediately surrounded (Y/n), their moods lightening.
“That punch was incredible,” Wind grinned, throwing a playful jab in the air. “I thought he’d choke on his own teeth!”
"That was a well aimed kick too," Twilight added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Couldn’t have happened to a better man."
Four, less vocal but still visibly pleased, nodded approvingly. “You took him down before he could even blink.”
Legend rolled his eyes. “Pathetic man. Acting all high and mighty just to end up whining and crying like a child.”
(Y/n) laughed, though the tension still lingered in her shoulders. “People like him are everywhere back in my world too. Power hungry, entitled, always thinking they’re owed something.”
“I’d say you handled that pretty well,” Warriors remarked, his tone light but still holding an edge. "Not many can say they’ve landed a hit like that on a duke."
(Y/n) smiled, though there was a weariness in her expression. “I never wanted to be targeted by someone like him. But I guess that’s just how things go sometimes.”
The heroes chuckled, exchanging light banter as they began to shift focus to their plans for the evening. The mood in the room had turned, easing into something far more relaxed. They talked about finding somewhere to get a decent meal, or perhaps just enjoying a quiet night to themselves for once.
But beneath the laughter and casual conversations, there were unspoken glances being passed among the group. Each hero’s eyes flickered with something darker, something more dangerous. They hadn’t forgotten the Duke’s words, nor had they let go of the cold fury building inside them. Each of them was already calculating how they would deal with the Duke once and for all.
(Y/n), blissfully unaware of the tension simmering just below the surface, continued to chat with Wind and Four, oblivious to the silent promise the others were making to themselves.
The Duke wouldn’t escape justice. Not if they had anything to say about it.
And as plans were made with (y/n) to relax for the evening, the true reckoning was yet to come.
——
————
——
The Duke stormed through his lavish quarters, his face twisted in rage. Ornate vases shattered against the walls, and the fine tapestries he'd hung to flaunt his wealth were torn down in fits of fury. His chest heaved as he threw whatever was in reach, shouting to no one in particular.
"That damned woman ruined everything!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the polished wooden walls of the ship. His mind replayed the events of the throne room, how his meticulously crafted plan had fallen apart, how (Y/n) had humiliated him in front princess and the heroes. The memory of her punch, the jeering eyes of the heroes, and Zelda’s cold condemnation burned in his mind like a brand.
His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t care that (Y/n) had been innocent. It didn’t matter that he had tried to force her into a marriage. What mattered was that his plan had failed, and now he was the one who looked like a fool.
“She should have kept her mouth shut!” he seethed, pacing back and forth, his boots clacking against the finely polished floors. “She could have had everything! The wealth, the title, being wed to a man of nobility like myself! What more could she have wanted? A commoner like her, rising to such heights, and she threw it away! Stupid girl. She could have lived in luxury, been pampered for the rest of her life.”
He paused, his pacing halting as he turned to glare out the small window of his chamber, his hands shaking with the force of his grip. “And now, thanks to her, my reputation is in ruins. That cursed woman has cost me everything! The king will surely look down on me. The other nobles will mock me for failing to bring her to heel. Me! They’ll say I’m weak, that I couldn’t handle one woman.”
His voice dropped to a bitter mutter as he resumed his pacing. “It’s all her fault. She is the reason for this disgrace.”
Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, nearly knocking him off his feet. He staggered, slamming into the wall with a sharp grunt, his palm bracing against the wood to keep from falling. The room tilted dangerously for a moment before righting itself, and the Duke cursed under his breath.
“What in the—” he hissed, pushing himself upright. His brow furrowed, and his temper flared anew. “Incompetent fools! Can’t even keep a ship steady on the water! I’ll have the crew flogged for this!”
He stomped toward the door, still muttering under his breath about the ineptitude of the lower class. But just as his hand reached for the door handle, the ship lurched again, this time with even more force. He was thrown backward, his back slamming into the table, scattering papers and broken trinkets everywhere.
“What is going on out there?!” he roared, scrambling to his feet once more. Anger and frustration warred with a growing sense of unease, but he shook it off as he stumbled into the hallway, determined to find the captain and demand an explanation for the erratic movements of the ship.
Whatever was happening, it wasn’t normal.
And the Duke wasn’t prepared for what awaited him on the deck.
The Duke stormed out onto the deck, the chill of the night air biting at his skin. It was dark, the moon hanging low in the sky, shrouded in thick clouds, and the wind whipped through his hair, making his coat billow around him. His frustration boiled over as he squinted into the blackness, seeing no one around.
"Where the hell is everyone?!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the howling wind. "What is the meaning of this reckless sailing?!"
No response came. The only sounds were the crash of the waves against the ship's hull and the eerie groan of the wood beneath his feet. He waited, fists clenched at his sides, his blood pumping hot with rage.
“Answer me, damn you!” he shouted again, his voice cracking slightly with the force of his anger. Still, no one replied. The deck was eerily empty, the shadows stretching longer in the flickering lantern light. He could hear the distant rush of water and feel the ship sway beneath him.
The silence hung like a weight on his chest, growing heavier with each passing second. The Duke muttered under his breath, "Where is everyone?"
As if in response to his words, the ship lurched again, harder than before. The violent motion knocked him off his feet, sending him sprawling onto the deck. His hand smacked painfully against the wood, and he winced, scrambling to his knees with a groan.
“Blast it all!” he cursed, rising shakily. His hand still throbbed, but his pride ached worse. "What is going on?!"
A low voice drifted through the wind, calm and measured, with an edge that sent a chill down the Duke’s spine.
“They’re not on the ship anymore.”
The Duke’s head snapped toward the voice, his eyes widening as he peered up towards the helm. There, silhouetted against the night sky, stood a figure. His stance was casual, one hand resting on the railing, while the other hung loosely at his side. The wind tugged at his blue scarf, but he stood steady, unbothered by the storm raging around him.
The Duke’s breath caught in his throat. He recognized him.
The Hero of Warriors.
Warriors gazed out toward the sea, his expression unreadable, not bothering to acknowledge the Duke’s presence right away. His voice was low, cutting through the night like a knife. “The crew was given a choice.”
The ship rocked again, this time more violently, and the Duke had to reach out to steady himself against the mast. The wind whipped around them, howling through the rigging like a vengeful spirit. Warriors, however, didn’t move, standing firm as if the tempest was nothing more than a gentle breeze.
“They made their choice,” Warriors continued, his tone steady and cold. “Fortunately for them, they didn’t struggle.”
The Duke’s heart raced. His mouth went dry as the full weight of the situation pressed down on him. “What... what do you mean, they didn’t struggle?” he demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite his attempt to sound authoritative.
Warriors finally turned his gaze towards him, blue eyes cold and sharp, cutting through the dark. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, descending the steps from the helm with an eerie calmness that only made the Duke’s fear intensify.
“But you,” Warriors said, voice dropping lower as he drew closer, “you and the men in your pocket? You won’t be given a choice.”
The Duke’s breath hitched, and he took an involuntary step back.
Something heavy landed behind him with a thick, sickening thud. The Duke froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, dread pooling in his stomach, he turned his head. His eyes widened in terror as they landed on the twisted form of one of his personal guards, crumpled grotesquely on the deck. The man’s limbs were bent at unnatural angles, and his lifeless, pain filled eyes stared blankly at the Duke. His throat tightened as bile rose, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
He stumbled backward, his breathing rapid and shallow, before his gaze flicked upwards. A strangled gasp escaped him as he saw several more of his guards, their bodies dangling limply from the crow’s nest, their legs bound, swaying in the wind like gruesome puppets.
Panic gripped him. His chest heaved as he staggered back further, his hands trembling uncontrollably. This wasn’t just some accident or punishment, it was a spectacle. A message.
Up above, on the crow’s nest, a figure stood with their arms raised, weaving through the air. The Duke could see them moving, and as their hands shifted, the wind seemed to respond, whipping through the sails with forceful gusts that made the entire ship creak and groan under the pressure.
“Eager to participate,” came Warriors’ cold, casual voice behind him, drawing the Duke’s attention back. “The sailor was particularly enthusiastic about dealing with you.” Warriors’ gaze remained locked on the Duke, his expression hard as steel. “He came up with the idea to hang your men like that. Thought it’d make an impression on you.”
The Duke swallowed hard, his mouth dry as dust, eyes darting from the swaying bodies to the figure atop the crow’s nest. He recognized him now—the youngest Hero amongst the famed group, the legendary baton of his in hand, controlling the very gales battering the ship.
Wind’s movements were precise, almost rhythmic, and with each shift of his baton, the wind seemed to intensify, as if the very element was singing as it bent to his will. The sight made the Duke’s blood run cold.
Warriors took another step forward, his voice dropping into something colder, more dangerous. “You should thank him. He’s made sure your men won’t feel a thing anymore.” His eyes narrowed. “But you, Duke, you don’t get that mercy.”
The Duke’s knees buckled as he stumbled back again, the gruesome sight above him and the bone-chilling presence of Warriors before him coiling around his heart like a vice.
Warriors stepped forward, the ship groaning under the force of the wind as if the entire vessel knew what was about to unfold. He looked at the Duke, a calm, almost dispassionate gaze fixed on him. "I’m not here to lay a hand on you," he said, his tone as steady as the sea before a storm. "No, sadly that’s not my role tonight."
The Duke swallowed hard, but Warriors continued, his boots tapping lightly on the wooden deck as he descended the stairs, his steps calm despite the chaos surrounding them. "I’m just here to deliver a message from the rest of my companions. Your fate was sealed the moment you decided to target *her*." His voice was sharp, cutting through the howling winds that now whipped fiercely around them. "If you had been smarter, if you’d offered your services to us, covered our tracks when we needed it... perhaps you’d have a chance at redemption."
Warriors stopped, his voice lowering, but still audible over the roaring wind. "But you didn’t. You chose to lay your hand on the one person you never should’ve touched." His words struck like a hammer, and the Duke’s face paled, his confidence unraveling in the face of the calm malice in Warriors' voice.
Panic welled up inside him, and the Duke’s voice trembled as he tried to negotiate. “M-My king will hear about this! This will start a war! You can’t—”
Warriors tilted his head slightly, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “That’s only if you manage to make it back to your king.” As if on cue, the haunting melody of an ocarina began to play, seemingly from nowhere. The Duke’s eyes widened as dark clouds began to roll in, blotting out the moon, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
The ship groaned louder, the wooden beams straining under the building pressure. The Duke felt the deck shudder beneath his feet, a terrifying crack ringing out through the air as though the ship itself was beginning to break apart.
Desperation filled his voice as he stumbled forward, hands shaking. “Wait, please! Warriors, you have to see reason! I can—”
But Warriors simply shook his head, watching the Duke with cold, unwavering eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered, the distaste clear in his voice.
Before the Duke could respond, Wind landed beside him with a graceful thud, having swung down from the crow’s nest with his grappling hook. The Duke’s eyes flickered with hope as he latched onto Wind’s arm, clutching him in a last, desperate bid for salvation. "Y-You! You must convince him! Convince him to see reason!"
Wind looked down at the Duke with a wide grin, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Where’s all that noble decorum now, huh? Funny how it disappears the moment you’re cornered.” He wrenched his arm free with little effort, leaving the Duke to stagger back. Without another word, Wind turned and joined Warriors, pulling back out his Wind Waker and preparing to play.
The eerie notes of the Ballad of Gales began to fill the air, and the wind responded, swirling and intensifying as Wind conducted the melody.
Just as the song reached its peak, Warriors, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, glanced back at the Duke. "You know," he said, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, "I don’t think I ever learned your actual name."
The Duke blinked, his mouth opening in disbelief as he tried to stammer out a response.
Warriors shrugged, already turning away. "I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore."
At that moment, Wind’s song reached its climax, and a massive cyclone formed, engulfing Warriors and Wind in a spiraling vortex of air. Within moments, they vanished, whisked away by the magic of the winds, leaving the Duke alone on the rapidly deteriorating ship.
The ship rocked violently, tilting dangerously to one side as the storm fully unleashed its fury. The Duke stumbled, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the sea swell beneath him, the waves rising higher and higher. The ship’s creaking intensified, sharp cracking sounds echoing as the wood began to splinter.
“No… this isn’t happening!” the Duke muttered to himself, shaking his head. “This—this can’t be happening! It’s all just a nightmare…!” His voice rose in pitch as he backed away from the railing, eyes wide with denial. “I’ll be fine! I’ll be fine!”
But the ship lurched again, throwing him to the deck as the storm raged on, the winds howling like a beast hungry for destruction. The vessel groaned one last time, a final, desperate sound as it began to split.
The Duke’s terror reached its breaking point. He scrambled to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and raw with panic. “No! No, no, no! This can’t be happening! Someone, anyone, save me!”
His scream echoed across the stormy sea, but there was no one left to hear him. As the ship gave its final shudder and the waves crashed over the deck, the Duke’s cries were swallowed by the storm, lost in the unforgiving darkness.
————
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——
———
————
A week or two later, (y/n) sat with a few of the heroes, relaying the latest rumors she’d overheard from the guards and servants. “They say the Duke’s ship was attacked by pirates and destroyed by a massive storm,” she said, looking down at her tea. “Apparently, no one survived.”
The group exchanged surprised glances. Hyrule raised an eyebrow. "Pirates and a storm? That's some poetic justice."
Twilight chuckled. “Ironic, considering the Duke’s ambitions.”
Legend leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He got what he deserved. Swift and final.”
(y/n) sighed, leaning back. “Karma works fast sometimes.” She jumped a little when she felt a pair of hands settle gently on her shoulders. Time had snuck up behind her, his presence calm but strong as ever. He leaned down slightly, his voice low as he murmured, “At least, now, the Duke will never lay a hand on you again.”
She smiled, nodding in agreement. "I’m relieved, but... I can’t help feeling sad that the crew had to die. They were innocent, after all." Her voice softened. “I just wish pirates were like Wind.”
Legend snorted. “Tell him that, and he’ll get an even bigger head than he already has.”
Four piped up with a smirk. “Big head? He’s barely got a head at all with how small he is.”
Twilight laughed, joining in. “Maybe the wind carries his brain away every time he uses his Wind Waker.”
Hyrule, attempting to defend their absent companion, shook his head. “Come on, Wind’s not that bad!”
(y/n) laughed, clearly entertained. “Wind’s a sweetheart! Just because he’s small doesn’t mean he’s brainless.” She grinned at Four and Twilight. "He’s got more brains than you two combined."
The group descended into playful bickering, with (y/n) gleefully holding her own as they teased and defendedd Wind. Time’s hands slipped away from her shoulders, and he stepped back, the sound of her laughter lightening his expression. Witout a word, he turned and quietly left the room, letting their cheerful voices fade behind him.
As he stepped into the corridor, he was greeted by Wild and Sky. Wild gave him a nod. “Warriors and Wind are waiting outside.”
Sky smiled, glancing back at the door. “Sounds like there’s a bit of chaos going on in there. You did good work, Time.”
Time gave his usual half-smile, a faint curve of his lips that spoke volumes. "Appreciate it." He watched as Wild and Sky exchanged grins and headed back into the room, eager to join in the lively spat still unfolding within.
Time continued outside, where Warriors and Wind stood waiting. The breeze was cool, the sky darkening as evening approached. Wind was leaning against the railing, a slight pout on his face, while Warriors stood tall beside him, his arms crossed in quiet satisfaction.
“Good work, both of you,” Time said, his voice steady and appreciative. “The Duke won’t trouble her again.”
“Good work yourself for summoning that storm.” Warriors said with a chuckle.
Wind sighed dramatically. “Legend’s been such a bother ever since I asked for some of his cursed rings. He’s so stingy! Like, come on, it’s just a little curse. I needed them for the guards!”
Warriors chuckled. “You’ve got enough mischief to handle without cursed rings. But honestly, I’m just glad the whole thing with the Duke is over. He was a problem that needed solving.”
There was a pause, Warriors’ face more thoughtful as he asked, “The crew we let go... you think they’ll keep quiet?”
Wind perked up, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, absolutely. We gave them the Duke’s valuables and a hefty amount of rupees. No one’s going to open their mouths about us after that.”
Time nodded. “They would not be lying when they say they were attacked by pirates,” Wind snickers at that. “They never had any loyalty to a man who treated them like tools. Those that did? They were as pathetic as he was.”
Warriors sighed, a small smile forming as he shook his head. “Shame we couldn’t have done more to him. But I suppose watching him crumble in fear was enough.”
Wind stretched, clearly pleased with the outcome. “The fear in his eyes? Priceless.” He grinned wide. “I’ll take that as a win.”
Time nodded again, the shadows in his expression fading as the three of them moved on to simpler topics, small banter about their next steps, where they would go, what else to do now that the Duke was no longer in the picture.
It was as though the events on the Duke’s ship were already distant memories, the murder of the Duke and his men insignificant.
All that mattered now was (y/n), and where next they would go with her by their side.
This is such a massive improvement over the original! You took what was originally a very short and simple bit and elevated it to new levels, allowing more of the chain to shine as well as Impa, (y/n), and Zelda. We could real feel the Duke’s sinister nature as well as the seriousness of (y/n)’s situation, though I’ll be the first to admit I do miss the Shrek inspired elements.
So thank you love @lovanmari for dragging me away from my humble ditch to finish this wip that I have not looked at for over a year (maybe more I don’t even remember.)
Plus my recent rewrite for Hyrule really made me wanna write more about him and his interactions with his Fae Fam~
Yandy! You may recall the start of this wip!
Anywho, enjoy folks!
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At first, it seemed like she was merely under the weather.
There was nothing to suggest it was anything more serious. She brushed off any concerns, always giving them a reassuring smile that never quite reached her eyes.
Days passed, and her condition worsened. Her skin grew clammy, and she started to withdraw more often.
She tried to push through, to hide her growing discomfort.
Her fever spiked suddenly one evening while she was helping Wind gather wood. She stumbled, her breath coming in shallow gasps, before collapsing against a tree with a pained whimper. She curled into herself, tears spilling down her cheeks as her body shook from the fever's relentless assault.
It was Twilight who reached her first, gathering her up in his arms and holding her close as the others rushed to make camp.
His heart pounded with fear as she trembled in his arms, her body so limp it was terrifying. Warriors and Time raced into the nearby town for medicine, while Four and Wind stayed behind with Twilight, trying to bring her some relief.
Hyrule had been the first to try and heal her, pouring every ounce of magic he had into her weakened body. But the illness that plagued her was stubborn, festering in a way his magic couldn’t entirely purge.
His hands soon trembled with exhaustion as he continued to try, his magic flickering like a dying flame. When he finally collapsed, drained and pale, Warriors and Time forced him to sleep, both men looking shaken by how serious things had gotten.
The camp was quiet now, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the occasional murmur of wind through the trees. Four sat beside her, watching the sweat bead across her brow, his own fear tightening around his chest. Her skin burned to the touch, and her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.
His fingers carded through her damp hair in an attempt to soothe her when she suddenly stirred, blinking up at him with glassy, fever-bright eyes.
“You... guys… always do everything... for nothing,” she muttered weakly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Shh,” Four hushed her gently, adjusting her so she could sit up and drink some water. He raised the bottle to her lips, helping her take a few slow sips. “Don’t talk. You need to rest.”
“No...” she slurred, her words thick with exhaustion and fever, her gaze unfocused. “You... you do so much. Get hurt. Fight... And no one ever thanks you.”
Four swallowed hard, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. “That’s not true. We’ve been thanked plenty of times.”
“No...” She shook her head, her movements sluggish. “No one sees you... they see the hero... just the hero.” Her breath hitched as more tears spilled down her cheeks. “You get hurt for people... and they don’t see how much it costs.”
Four’s brow furrowed, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He tried to brush it off, to deflect with his usual gentle humor, but the raw pain in her voice made it impossible. She wasn’t thinking straight, delirium clouded her mind, but there was truth buried in her fevered rambling. He stayed silent, not sure what to say.
“It’s not fair...” she whispered, her voice cracking as her tears began to fall faster. “It’s not fair what you’ve been through. It’s not right...”
“(Y/n)...” Four’s voice was soft, barely audible over her quiet sobs. He rested his hand on her arm, trying to ground her.
“I don’t want you to do this if it’s just because you have to,” she whimpered, her fingers curling weakly into the fabric of his tunic. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”
Four’s heart twisted painfully in his chest, her words hitting him harder than any enemy ever could. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with a trembling sob.
“I hate it... I hate that no one ever told you... it’s unfair. What happened to you... to all of you. It’s not right.”
Her grip on his tunic tightened, her fevered mind pushing her emotions to the surface. She was breaking down in front of him, unraveling at the seams, and he didn’t know how to stop it.
“Don’t cry...” Four whispered, his voice cracking. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry...” she whimpered, her voice barely more than a broken whisper. “I’m so sorry you gave up so much... for a world that only wants you to fight their battles for them.”
Her words hung in the air like a heavy fog, and Four felt something inside him shift, like the walls he kept around his heart were starting to crack.
Suddenly, her hand reached out, and she brought his fingers to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. The small gesture nearly shattered him.
“I can’t... fix this...” she whispered, her voice so faint he barely heard it.
"It’s alright, please understand that," Four said softly, his voice trembling, his control over his emotions slipping.
Vio’s presence immediately took over as the rest of the colors allowed him full control, he gently laid her back down.
She weakly protested, trying to stay awake, but Vio’s gentle assertiveness soothed her into submission.
He tucked her under the blankets, his eyes watching her every move, noting the way her body still shivered from the fever.
"It’s not fair..." she mumbled one last time before finally slipping into a fitful sleep.
Vio stood, expression unreadable as he watched over her. "No," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "It’s not fair."
——
——
They had all promised her it would pass soon, and she believed them, trying to put on a brave face and push through. But as the days stretched on, her strength slipped away bit by bit.
Despite their reassurances, she grew weaker. Then, she needed help just to stand up after resting, and eventually, even sipping water became impossible without assistance.
They would guide the cup to her lips, murmuring words of encouragement, but her hands shook too much to hold it herself. She could barely swallow without wincing, each small action taking all of her energy. The cold bite of the world touching her skin was nothing compared to the fire in her veins.
And still, they kept their promises. They told her she would get better, that they’d find a way.
But no matter how brave a face they put on when she was awake, when her eyes closed, their masks slipped. Desperation took hold.
And she could sense it, the fraying edges of their composure, the way their voices wavered when they thought she wasn’t listening. When they thought she was fully asleep.
Hyrule was the worst of them. He was burning through his magic faster than anyone could stop him, draining potions to the last drop to restore his strength.
He would kneel at her side, whispering incantations, hands glowing as he tried to heal her. Every time, the warmth of his magic brought a brief flicker of relief.
The pain would ebb just for a moment, and she could breathe easier, but the reprieve never lasted. As soon as the magic faded, the agony crashed back into her, harsher than before.
She didn’t blame him. How could she? She could see the way his eyes dimmed with every failed attempt, the way his hands shook as he poured every last ounce of himself into trying to save her.
Even when she weakly begged him to stop to not drain himself so harshly, Warriors pulling him back to rest and Time stepping in with stern words, Hyrule fought to stay awake, refusing to give up.
He looked at her with such sorrow, as if he were the one hurting her.
But it wasn’t his fault. She wanted to tell him, to tell all of them, that none of this was their fault.
Even if they were blaming themselves for her suffering, she didn’t hold any of it against them. How could she, when they were trying so hard? When every one of them was wearing themselves thin just to keep her alive?
They didn’t sleep. Not really. Twilight kept watch over her when she drifted off, his eyes never leaving her face.
Wild hovered nearby, fingers itching to fix something, anything, even though there was nothing for him to do. Time and Warriors were constant pillars of the group, keeping the busy so they didn’t stew in their anxiety, but she could feel the weight of their worry pressing down like a storm cloud about to burst.
The only time they ever showed how close they were to breaking was when they thought she couldn’t see, when they thought she was lost in the haze of fever or unconscious from exhaustion.
But she saw it. She saw the way Four clenched his fists, the way Wind paced, muttering curses under his breath.
Even Legend, normally so composed, had moments where he faltered.
And Hyrule... Hyrule’s guilt was eating him alive.
He would sit by her side, barely holding back his frustration, his despair. His magic, the one thing that had always brought hope, couldn’t heal her, and he couldn’t bear it.
But even in her haze, even as the pain throbbed in every corner of her body, she didn’t blame them. Not for a second.
They had done everything they could.
——
——
The days stretched into a blur of desperation, punctuated by moments of gut-wrenching fear and fleeting hope. It had been nearly a week since her illness took a turn for the worse. A week since they’d been scrambling to keep her alive. Despite their best efforts, (y/n) was slipping further from them each day.
The nearby village’s only doctor was useless, simply stating that it was like nothing he had ever seen, and that chances of recovery were most certainly slim to none.
Her condition deteriorated quickly. What started as extreme exhaustion had now left her bedridden, her body trembling fiercely and her skin becoming pale as wax.
Every breath seemed like a struggle, every movement too much for her body to bear. The fever raged, unrelenting, burning her from the inside. And as her strength faded, so did the light in their eyes.
Hyrule had become a shadow of himself. He hadn’t slept in days unless it was from passing out, his magic reserves draining back to empty the moment he woke up and crawled back to her.
Each time he used his healing magic, it took more out of him, the toll becoming increasingly visible. His skin was drawn, dark circles etched under his eyes, and his hands trembled as he worked tirelessly over her. His breathing was shallow, his body aching from the strain, but still, he refused to stop.
They all knew he was pushing himself too far, but no one could bring themselves to intervene. Not when the fear that they would lose her loomed over them all like a dark cloud.
Twilight, Wind, Four and Legend had taken on the task of gathering supplies, disappearing to the nearby town almost every day.
They were the fastest, the ones who could sneak in and out with ease. At first, they had relied on buying potions and medicine, but as time wore on, the merchant began to see their desperation, raising his prices to absurd levels.
It didn’t take long for the group to abandon any notion of paying fairly.
Twilight would distract the merchant with a pleasant smile, while Four split up to keep watch as Wind and Legend slipped behind the stalls, taking what they needed without hesitation. It wasn’t theft, not really. Not when the merchant had already tried to scam them.
It was necessary. They couldn’t afford to waste time arguing over prices when every second mattered.
But despite their efforts, the potions barely made a difference. At best, they gave (y/n) temporary relief, literal moments where her breathing eased and the pain receded, but it returned worse than before. The illness had taken a vicious hold, tightening its grip with every passing day.
Warriors and Time kept watch over Hyrule, though neither could hide their growing frustration.
They’d tried to reason with him, tried to force him to rest, if only so he had the strength to continue later, but Hyrule wouldn’t listen.
His stubbornness had reached a new height, fueled by the guilt eating away at him. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t.
“She’ll get better,” he insisted through chapped lips, his voice hoarse and trembling with exhaustion. “I just need... I need more time. Please, just... give me more time.”
But even as he said it, they could see the cracks forming. He was running on empty, his body barely holding up under the strain. And still, (y/n)’s condition worsened.
She couldn’t even open her eyes anymore, her body too weak to respond to their voices. She drifted in and out of consciousness, her fevered mind lost in a haze of pain.
When she was awake, she tried to smile at them, tried to offer some kind of comfort despite her suffering. But they could see the truth, she was fading. Her brightness was slipping away, and no matter how hard they fought, it felt like they were losing her.
At night, when they thought she was too far gone to notice, they let their masks drop completely.
Twilight paced restlessly by the fire, his fists clenched as he stared into the flames, guilt gnawing at him for not being able to protect her.
Wind and Four sat beside her, their usually carefree demeanor replaced with silent, tear-filled eyes as they held her hand and brushed her hair back, whispering to her with voices so soft it barely reached the others.
Warriors stood guard, his jaw set, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep as he stared out into the night, waiting for the moment when everything would crumble.
And Time... Time sat at her side, his calloused hand holding hers, as if he could anchor her to the world with his presence alone. He was silent, his expression unreadable, but the tightness in his grip betrayed his fear.
Legend wasn’t any better. He sat farther away from the rest but still close to her, his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes never left her. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his composure. He couldn’t lose her. None of them could.
But with each passing day, that fear became more real. More suffocating.
One evening, when the others had gone to town again, Hyrule collapsed beside her, his magic finally failing him.
He was unconscious before they could reach him, his body giving out from the constant use of his power. Warriors was the one to scoop him up and lay him beside her, his expression grim.
“We can’t keep this up,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “We’re losing her and with the rate the Traveler is going, we’ll lose both of them.”
Twilight, who had been silent for hours, finally spoke. His voice was rough, filled with raw, unfiltered fear.
“Then we find another way. I won’t let her die.”
No one argued, but the despair was written on all their faces.
They had to find another way. But what? How long could they keep running to town, stealing potions, praying for a miracle that never seemed to come?
How long could they keep up the façade that everything would be okay when every moment felt like she was slipping further away from them?
——
——
The atmosphere around the camp had become oppressive, a heavy, choking tension that none of them could shake.
The sound of their own thoughts was deafening, and yet, no one dared to speak much. Not anymore. Not when every word felt like a countdown to the inevitable.
(y/n) was still hanging on, barely, her shallow breaths echoing through the campsite. But the fear that she could slip away at any moment had taken its toll on all of them.
Their once seamless movements now seemed jagged and unnatural.
Twilight’s steps, once so sure and steady, had grown erratic, his pacing more frantic as the days passed. He muttered under his breath, words lost to the wind as his gaze flitted between the dying fire and (y/n)’s prone form.
The others weren’t much better. Four’s usual sharp, observant eyes had grown wild, darting to every shadow as if waiting for something, anything, to happen. He often caught himself muttering to himself, strange fragmented thoughts that would normally never see the light of day.
Warriors sat apart from the rest, fingers twitching as though he wanted to reach for his sword at every sound. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a subtle but constant reminder of his fraying patience.
Legend, normally quick with his sarcasm or a biting comment, was eerily silent, his hands wringing the edge of his tunic over and over again. His eyes were dark, haunted, as if he were seeing something none of the others could.
Even Time, ever the rock of the group, had begun to slip. His movements were mechanical, too precise to be natural, his expression cold and distant.
But it was his eyes that gave him away, those sharp, calculating eyes now flickered with something wild, something desperate.
And then there was Hyrule.
Hyrule, who had been the most drained, the most exhausted, suddenly seemed to be... different.
He was still pale, his face hollowed from the constant exertion of his magic, but something about him had changed. He was oddly focused, his gaze distant but intensely sharp, as if picking up on something the others couldn’t see.
He sat by (y/n)’s side more often now, his eyes narrowing as he stared out into the distance, as though something was calling to him. The others noticed it too. the way he seemed unsettled, the way his fingers twitched as if itching to reach for something just out of his grasp. Sometimes, he would mutter to himself, low enough that only those closest could hear.
“This place... I swear there’s something familiar here,” he whispered one night, his voice barely above a breath. “Something I’ve seen before... felt before... but I don’t know why.”
The others exchanged glances, but were too focused on (y/n) to dwell on it.
Still, there was something about the way Hyrule had begun to withdraw, something in his eyes that made them uneasy.
He was debating something in his mind, that much was clear. But no one dared to ask.
Then, one night, (y/n)’s breathing had faltered. Just for a moment. Just long enough to send them all into a spiral of panic.
Hyrule had rushed to her side, using what little magic he had recovered to try and stabilize her. She’d slipped back into unconsciousness, her body colder than before.
The scare left them shaken to their core, but it was Hyrule who seemed the most affected.
That night, he hadn’t spoken. He’d sat silently by the fire, staring into the flames, his expression tight, his eyes distant. The others tried to talk to him, to see if he was alright, but he gave nothing away. No one pressed further.
The next morning, he was gone.
It was Twilight who noticed first, his eyes scanning the camp as he called out for Hyrule, his voice laced with frustration. But there was no answer. He wasn’t there. His bag, his supplies, everything was gone, as if he had vanished into thin air.
It didn’t take long for the others to realize what had happened, and soon the camp was filled with the sounds of heated whispers, their voices low but tense.
“Where the hell did he go?” Legend hissed, his hands shaking as he raked them through his hair. “He wouldn’t just leave, not without saying something.”
“He was acting weird,” Wind muttered, pacing again, his movements jerky. “He was muttering about something being familiar. Maybe he went to find it.”
“Find what?” Warriors snapped, his voice sharp. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, the village is useless cause it’s so small it doesn’t even have a doctor, and (y/n) could die any second. He knows that!”
“I don’t know!” Wild shot back, his voice strained. “But something’s not right. He’s been pushing himself too hard.”
“We all have,” Time said quietly, his voice calm, though his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his sword. “But abandoning us? Abandoning her? There’s no excuse.”
Twilight growled under his breath, his hands clenched into fists. “We need him. We can’t—"
“Maybe he found something,” Sky interrupted, his voice quieter but no less tense. “Something he didn’t want to say in front of us.”
“Or maybe he’s finally lost it,” Warriors muttered darkly. “We all know how much he’s been using his magic. It could’ve driven him over the edge.”
The argument continued, their voices rising and falling as they debated what to do. But underneath it all, the fact was clear.
Hyrule was gone by his own free will.
And if they couldn’t find him, or if he didn’t come back soon, (y/n) might be gone too.
——
——
Without Hyrule, (y/n)‘s moments of respite were non-existent.
The group fell deeper into despair. Every breath (y/n) took sounded weaker, raspier, her skin pale and cold to the touch. They tried to stay strong, but the strain showed.
Time and Warriors rarely spoke now, their grim expressions enough to convey the gravity of the situation.
Twilight remained as Wolfie, using his heightened senses in an attempt to monitor (y/m)’s withering condition.
Four kept snapping at anyone who hesitated too long to do something for her, and Legend, normally so composed, spent hours quietly sitting by (y/n)'s side, holding her hand as if sheer will alone could keep her with them.
One evening, as the group huddled in the camp’s dim light, Wild finally whispered what they all dreaded to hear.
"I can’t give her any more potions or elixirs," he murmured, his voice thick with frustration. "They aren’t working anymore."
His words hung in the air like a death sentence. No one wanted to acknowledge it, but they all knew. The potions weren’t helping. Nothing was helping. Yet even so, they whispered to her in the dark, their voices shaky and tearful.
"Just a little longer, okay?" Twilight would plead softly. "You’re strong. You can fight this."
Legend would gently press his forehead against (y/n)’s, his voice breaking. "Don’t leave us. Please. We need you."
But deep down, they all feared it was too late.
——
——
Hyrule returned.
He stumbled into the camp just as the group braced themselves for the possibility of that (y/n) wouldn’t survive that night.
His sudden appearance should have brought relief, but instead, it ignited anger. The others turned on him, their eyes wild with rage and fear.
"Where were you?" Legend hissed, storming up to him, grabbing him by the collar of his tunic, his voice shaking with rage and betrayal.
"How could you abandoned her!" Four cried out, fists balled up tightly.
"How could you leave?" Warriors snarled. "We needed you, SHE needed you!"
Hyrule, however, was too exhausted to flinch from their words. He stood before them, pale and bloodied, his eyes heavy with sleeplessness. But despite his worn appearance, his gaze was resolute.
"I didn’t want to leave," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "But… I’m glad I did."
Before anyone could respond viciously to that, Hyrule raised his hands, and with a pulse of his magic, rejuvenated and contrary to his physical condition, the air around them filled with soft, melodic chimes.
Time, Legend, and Warrior’s eyes widened, immediately recognizing the sound for what it was.
A moment later, the area around them lit up, as the sly was filled with a swarm of fairies, their wings shimmering like tiny stars as they descended upon (y/n), surrounding her with gentle light.
The fairies whispered soothing words, their voices like the rustle of leaves in a breeze, comforting both the group and (y/n), even though she remained unconscious.
The warmth of their magic radiated outward, the oppressive weight of the situation lifting as they began to work.
"It was a curse disguising itself as an illness," Hyrule explained, his voice faint from exhaustion. " and I could feel something off since we arrived here. Something... familiar. I didn’t understand it at first. But it clicked eventually.“
He looked up at the sky for a moment, “This place... it’s MY Hyrule, but so far into the future that I didn’t recognize it. But the pulse of magic... that, I knew."
He swayed slightly, catching himself before he fell. "I gambled. Left to investigate, and I was right. I found the Great Fairy Fountain in the same place it’s always been."
His lips curved into a small, weary smile. "To this land, it had been so long. But to her, I was only gone for a short while, despite the centuries that have passed between our time jumps. She agreed to help me... to help her." He glanced at (y/n), whose skin now glowed faintly beneath the soft light of the fairies. "Her daughters came with me, but the Great Mother has requested we bring (y/n) to the fountain so she can personally aid in her recovery."
The group stared in stunned silence, their emotions torn between anger, relief, and disbelief. The sight of the fairies working on (y/n), their gentle magic already combating the curse, was a miracle they had barely dared to hope for.
"I’m sorry," Hyrule said desperately as Legend’s hand let go of his tunic, his voice breaking from the tears he was holding back, barely above a whisper. "I did what I had to do... but I…I just couldn’t keep add it without searching for an actual solution. To actually make sure she pulls through."
As the fairies continued to work, a glimmer of hope returned to the now silent group.
——
——
Twilight and Warriors had barely exchanged words as they approached the merchant's stall. The merchant, initially wary but hopeful for a profitable exchange, quickly realized his mistake when Twilight’s eyes narrowed and Warriors' grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.
"We’re borrowing your cart," Warriors had stated coldly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. Twilight’s hand hovered threateningly near his own blade, the intent clear. There would be no payment, no bargaining. They would be taking the cart, and the merchant wouldn’t stop them.
The merchant, pale and trembling, simply nodded, backing away as the two heroes secured the cart to Epona, ignoring the man's feeble protests.
When they returned to the camp, Twilight, with Hyrule’s careful guidance, gently placed (y/n) inside the cart. Her fragile body was carefully cushioned by blankets, and even then, she barely stirred.
The fairies flitted around her constantly, their magic a steady hum as they continued to combat the curse.
With everyone in place, Epona began to pull them toward the Great Fairy’s fountain.
Twilight, walking beside his loyal steed, murmured soothing words to the horse as they made their way through the winding paths, Hyrule sitting in the cart with (y/n), his focus entirely on her, the weight of his exhaustion finally showing but his resolve never faltering.
At the Great Fairy’s fountain, the air shimmered with an otherworldly light. As they arrived, the Great Fairy emerged from the glimmering waters, her presence overwhelming yet comforting.
Without a word, she extended her arms toward (y/n), and with a soft pulse of magic, (y/n)’s body floated from the cart, suspended in a gentle glow. She was carefully placed in the pool of water and magic, her limp form cradled by the shimmering light as the curse continued to be fought off.
Days passed. The Chain set up camp near the fountain, watching anxiously as the fairies and the Great Fairy worked tirelessly to heal (y/n).
Slowly, ever so slowly, the signs of improvement became visible. Her once pale complexion began to warm, her breathing grew steadier, and the oppressive weight of the curse lessened.
But exhaustion took its toll on the group. One by one, the others succumbed to sleep, their bodies and minds drained from days of fear and desperation.
Only Hyrule remained awake, too restless, too vigilant to allow himself the luxury of sleep. He sat near the water’s edge, watching over (y/n) as she floated peacefully in the glowing pool.
Then, in the stillness of the night, (y/n) stirred.
Hyrule’s eyes widened as he saw her eyelids flutter weakly.
For a brief, fleeting moment, her eyes opened, just a sliver, as if she was struggling to take in her surroundings. Hyrule’s breath caught in his throat as he knelt closer, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Shhhhh…” He gently hushed, as if trying to calm whatever unease she may currently feel, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. "You’re safe now. Everything is going to be alright."
Her eyes, though heavy with fatigue, seemed to register his words. A faint glimmer of recognition passed through them before they fluttered shut again, her body relaxing as though she had accepted his promise.
Hyrule let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief washing over him. She was still with them. She was fighting, and now, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, it seemed like she might win.
——
——
The Great Fairy watched (y/n) in her pool of magic and water, her ethereal face softening with a sense of quiet awe. "I must say, her will is extraordinary," she murmured, her voice like the chime of delicate bells. "The curse was designed to break the will of its victim, to erode their strength of spirit until nothing remained. But this one... she fought it. Every moment. Impressive."
Hyrule, still weary and bloodied from his desperate journey, glanced down at (y/n) with a tender smile. "That’s just who she is," he replied quietly. "She’s always surprising us. Always pushing through the impossible." His voice softened, a note of fondness threading through it. "It’s one of the things I love about her."
The Great Fairy tilted her head, her knowing eyes gleaming with amusement, but she said nothing, turning instead to watch her daughters as they continued to flutter around (y/n), their magic mingling with her own. Though the power they offered was unnecessary now, their presence was comforting, both to (y/n) and the Chain. The fairies worked with gentle grace, their whispered words soft like a lullaby.
Hyrule glanced at the others, still slumbering deeply by the fountain, drained from days of anxiety and fear. He didn’t tell them about (y/n)’s brief moment of consciousness earlier. He knew it would only upset them that they hadn’t been there to witness it, to share in the small flicker of hope.
And so, he kept it to himself, watching over her as she grew stronger with each passing day. The curse slowly unraveled, her body regaining warmth and color, her breathing steadying until, one day, her eyes opened again.
It was brief, just a few minutes, but enough to soothe the raw edges of their hearts. She was weak, her voice barely above a whisper, but the warmth in her eyes as she looked at each of them melted the tension that had kept them on edge.
"I'm okay," she whispered, her words fragile but filled with reassurance. "I’m alright now." Her hand trembled as she reached out, and Wild was the first to take it, tears threatening to spill over as he squeezed her hand tightly.
"We were so scared..." Warriors muttered, voice rough with emotion as he knelt beside her, his mask of stoic composure cracked. "You had us worried, Dear Heart."
She offered them a faint, tired smile. "I’m sorry... but it’s alright now, right? You’re all safe. I’m safe."
They all gathered around her, voices gentle but urgent as they reassured her it was alright now, that she was safe, and they would never let something like this happen again.
As days passed, her strength gradually returned, and the nights became less suffocating as she was slowly tugged away from death’s door.
One evening, while the others slept, (y/n) remained awake, her body finally strong enough to allow her more moments of clarity. Hyrule was keeping watch, sitting quietly by the edge of the campfire, when her soft voice broke the stillness.
"Hyrule..." she murmured, her eyes half-lidded but focused on him.
He quickly moved to her side, concern flashing across his face. "What is it? Are you alright?"
She smiled, small but genuine, and it reached her eyes, softening the tired lines etched into her face. "I just... I wanted to thank you. Even when I didn’t know where I was, when it felt like everything was trying to pull me away, I always had this sense of…you. Of you right by my side."
….what..?
Hyrule’s breath caught in his throat, his heart clenching at her words.
She…had felt him?
“I didn’t know how I knew it was you. But I knew. You have no idea how much that helped.”
She had known he had been there? That he had fought the curse every step of the way?
She chuckled weakly, though it was more of a breathy laugh than anything, but there was joy in it. "Now I know how Twilight felt when he was bedridden. It’s not fun being the one to almost die."
Hyrule couldn’t help but smile back, a quiet chuckle escaping him despite the weight of the past days. He gently took her hand, holding it between his own as he replied, "You were never alone. Not for a second. Never."
She squeezed his hand, her strength fragile but there.
As (y/n)’s eyes grew heavier, she gave Hyrule a weak but sincere smile. “Thank you... for never giving up on me...” she whispered, her voice barely audible, each word a fragile breath. “Not once…”
Hyrule’s heart clenched as the words hit him, the gratitude and warmth in her tone making his chest tighten painfully. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The emotion swelling within him was too strong, and he could only manage a soft, shaky breath.
“Rest,” he whispered instead, his voice tender, barely holding back his tears. “I’ll watch over you. You’re safe now.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, her stamina finally spent, and her breathing evened out into the quiet rhythm of sleep. Hyrule stayed there, staring at her for a long moment, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall.
After a few moments, he slowly lifted his head, his gaze shifting to the Great Fairy who had been watching the exchange with a gentle, knowing smile. Her eyes glimmered with warmth, and the soft chime of her magic hummed in the air, as comforting as a lullaby.
“She... she thanked me,” Hyrule whispered, his voice breaking slightly as he sniffled. “I... I did a good job. I helped...”
His voice was fragile, raw with relief and exhaustion, and as he spoke, he let the weight of everything he had been holding in finally settle. He had helped. He had made a difference.
The Great Fairy’s soft, melodic chime filled the air, and with it, a pulse of magic swept gently over him, a warm wave of love and affection that radiated through his entire being.
The sensation was so soothing, so full of comfort, that even the other sleeping heroes unconsciously relaxed, their bodies softening in their sleep as if the magic had touched them too.
Hyrule sniffled again, wiping at his eyes as he gave the Great Fairy a grateful, tearful smile. He had helped. He had done his part to save her, and now, she was going to be alright.
God you are just outclassing me in every sense of the word, I need to get my ass up and finish my own wips so I can actually live up to my NAME.
Also this is a weird connection but for some reason I’m reminded slightly of this one scene from the Avatar(2009) where Grace is being taken to the tree. I dunno maybe that’s just because I’ve been getting back into those movies again Avatar Fire and Ash HERE I COME
(As always, thank you Yandy for the advice. 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹)
Okie Dokie! Time to grow this bread into a sandwich!
(HAHAHA! I queued this so i could catch a certain friend off guard with a randomly timed post~ You know who you are missy~! Also imma be sleeping in, i wuv you? 🥹)
.
.
.
.
It began as nothing more than idle curiosity.
Whispers of a wanderer, who seemed to appear wherever monsters were slain.
Tales passed from traveler to traveler, trickling into villages like a strange current. At first, the stories were nothing more than entertainment—a young soul battling hordes of beasts sounded like the stuff of fairy tales, and the people, insulated in their small hamlets, hardly gave it a second thought.
“They’ve been seen by the dead forests near the mountains,” a young woman said one day, her voice a little too loud, a little too eager. “They say the bodies of monsters are strewn across the path they walks.”
Another woman chimed in, her voice hushed but with the kind of excitement that comes from having something new to share. “I’ve heard the same. A merchant passed through not long ago and claimed he saw the aftermath—bodies mangled, monsters torn apart, and not a soul in sight but one person who merely walked away.”
An old man sitting nearby scoffed, whittling a piece of wood as he listened to their chatter. “And the merchant just happened to be wandering through such dangerous lands, did he? More likely, he’s spinning stories to lighten your pockets.”
The first woman bristled. “It was near one of the main roads to Castle Town! You know as well as anyone how bad it’s gotten out there, what with all the rising monster attacks!”
The old man spat onto the ground. “So we’re meant to believe a single person has been wandering the wilderness, killing monsters for no reason? at all? Appeared out of nowhere, slaying hundreds, then vanishing to appear somewhere else? What next? Will the gods themselves descending to pat them on the back?”
A few of the villagers glanced toward the argument, but quickly averted their eyes, pretending not to listen. They didn’t want to get involved. Not in this. The rumors had been growing more persistent lately, and with them, something darker—an unease, like a shadow creeping closer.
Despite the arguments to the contrary, the stories refused to fade. In fact, they spread—spreading like wildfire from one village to the next, whispered by travelers passing through, by farmers returning from the markets.
At first, it was always the same—a wanderer with a sword, fighting monsters. But over time, the stories shifted slightly. The monsters were no longer the only ones falling to the mysterious wanderer’s blade.
The rumors became darker.
Now, there were whispers of men slain, bandits cut down as mercilessly as the beasts. Some even claimed it wasn’t simply bandits, but ordinary travelers who had crossed their path. And the wanderer—always just one person, faceless, nameless—never stepped foot in the villages. They never appeared in the markets or by the wells. No one had ever actually seen them properly, or at least, no one wanted to admit they had.
“Such a person’s never come through here,” the villagers would say when a traveler asked. “Not once.”
And yet… as the stories persisted, as the fear crept into their voices, some began to contradict themselves. “I’ve seen them,” one of their own might exclaim in a moment of nervous excitement. “It was at the edge of the village, just for a second. They passed by the old road near the woods.”
But no one wanted to admit the dread that twisted in their stomachs. No one wanted to acknowledge the silent fear that settled in their bones whenever they heard of this wanderer. So they waved it off, forcing laughter, pretending the tale of the slayer didn’t chill them to the core.
“Bah, you saw nothing,” the old man would scoff again, though this time, his hands shook as he whittled. “It’s just travelers talking. You lot are too easily swayed by gossip.”
But even he couldn’t explain why the stories never seemed to stop. Why, even in the most remote corners of the land, the whispers were the same. Villages miles apart, separated by rivers and mountains, somehow all spoke of the same person.
A wanderer no one had ever truly seen upclose.
But one they all slowly grew to fear.
And they feared most of all that one day, he would come to their homes. They feared what would happen if that person came too close—if the stories, after all this time, were not just stories…
…
——
——
…
…Their stomach growled, sharp and insistent, echoing louder than the wind that howled through the mountains. They gone too long without food, too long without proper rest.
For days, weeks, perhaps, They had survived on scraps found in the wild, gnawing on whatever edible plants they could find, but it wasn’t enough. (There was never enough in these poisoned lands.) Not anymore.
Their supplies had run dry days ago. The bag slung across their back was light, too light for any sensible traveler. Their lips were dry, their limbs heavy, but they kept walking. Always walking. Always wandering towards their next location,
The nearby village was close now, maybe half a day away.
…
…they didn’t want to go there.
Didn’t want to face people, to hear the loudness, the gossip, the looks.
They never did, not anymore. It was easier staying in the wilderness, always on the move. But hunger gnawed at them, dragging them toward the edges of civilization.
The monsters had been thinning out in this area, their numbers dwindling after they swept through the mountains. The monsters would inevitably return. They always did.
They didn’t care about any of that, their mind was set on one thing: food.
(Oh… to be back in the bountiful fields and forests of other times. To gaze into the sea of green and know plentiful food and fresh clean water was bountiful and untainted.)
Their steps quickened as they neared the village. They hated this part, being around people. So they would get what they needed and leave. That was all.
—-
—-
“Today, a wanderer is walking towards town from the north side! Guardsman says it’s a single person in a cloak, carrying a sword on their back.”
The words spread through the village like wildfire. The people had heard that the guard had seen him from a distance, a lone figure making their way toward them from the mountains. Conversations hushed, children were pulled back into their homes.
A few curious villagers lingered by the entrance, pretending to go about their day but keeping a close eye on the road. When the person arrived, they noticed their clothes were heavily travel-worn and stained with dark splotches, their face obscured by a cloak, but the sword strapped to their back gleamed in the sunlight.
No one wanted to be the first to approach.
—
—
They walked with purpose, ignoring the stares, the muttered suspicions. They made their way to the village’s small market, looking for food, something to ease the gnawing hunger in their gut.
Their footsteps were heavy, each one dragging them closer to their destination. The familiar pull of hunger clawed at their insides, twisting their stomach in knots.
As much as they wanted to avoid people, to slip by unnoticed, the ache in their belly wouldn’t let them.
The village was small, unremarkable, the kind they preferred.
They had kept their head down as they entered, walking toward the market stalls that lined the dusty road. No one spoke to the visitor as they passed, but no doubt the visitor could feel the eyes on their back, the whispers barely contained as the visitor passed.
“Do you think that’s the one who killed those travelers near the mountains?”
“I can’t tell…aren’t they a bit too young looking?.”
“I can certainly tell you that sword doesn’t look like it’s simply for show. It’s stained red at the handle.”
The visitor stopped in front of a stall selling bread and dried meats. The man behind the counter was older, his skin weathered from years in the sun.
He barely looked up at first, busy wrapping a loaf of bread for another customer. When he did, he seemed unimpressed by the cloaked figure standing before him, just another traveler passing through.
But then they reached up, pulling back their hood.
The old man froze, his hands stilling over the goods on his counter. The boy’s face was young—far too young (as young as his own grandchild…) to be traveling alone with a mere sword on his back.
For a moment, the man blinked, unsure if he was seeing things correctly. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask where the boy’s parents were, but the words never came out.
It wasn’t the youth that gave him pause. It was the look in the boy’s eyes.
Dark, heavy, burdened by something much older than his years. The kind of look you only saw in soldiers or those who had lived through nightmares. A look that shouldn’t belong to someone so young.
The old man swallowed hard, choosing his next words carefully. “What… what can I get for you?”
The boy’s eyes flickered to the food laid out on the stall. “Bread,” he said, his voice quiet, soft, but firm. “And dried meat, if you have any.”
The old man nodded slowly, still taken aback. Such a young boy.
He slowly reached for a loaf and a strip of dried meat, wrapping them in cloth before handing them over.
The boy reached into his pocket, pulling out a few rupees and placing them on the counter.
His hand was steady, but the old man noticed how thin his fingers were, how the veins stood out beneath his pale skin.
“Are… you’re traveling alone?” the old man asked, unable to help himself.
The boy looked up, his gaze meeting the old man’s for the briefest moment before dropping back to the food in his hands. “Yes.”
The old man hesitated, wanting to ask more, but something stopped him.
That look—he couldn’t shake it. He didn’t know what the boy had seen, what he had been through, but it was clear enough that the boy didn’t want to talk about it. Not to a complete stranger. So he let it go.
“Well,” the old man said, clearing his throat, “safe travels, then.”
The boy gave a nod, pulling his hood back up before turning and walking away, the whispers behind him growing louder as he moved through the market.
As he continued down the road, passing more stalls, a man suddenly stepped forward, blocking his path. He was broad shouldered and rough around the edges, from his state of dress, he was a guard in this village.
His expression hardened with suspicion. The villagers nearby quieted, turning their attention to the scene unfolding before them.
“You there,” the man called out, his voice gruff. His eyes narrowed, scanning the cloaked figure up and down. “You the wanderer everyone’s been talking about? The one slaying beasts… and men around these parts?”
The boy didn’t stop right away, his pace slowing only as he came to a halt just a few feet from the man. His face was half-shadowed beneath the hood he’d just pulled back up, and the weight of his gaze was unreadable as it fell on the man blocking his path.
He tilted his head slightly, as though considering the question. His voice, when he spoke, was soft. Unconcerned. “Am I who you’re looking for?”
The man’s scowl deepened. “Don’t play coy, boy. People talk of a wanderer who has been leaving bodies behind wherever he walks.”
The young boy blinked, slowly, his expression unreadable beneath the quiet calm that seemed to settle around him like a heavy fog.
He didn’t flinch, didn’t bristle at the accusation. He merely stared at the man for a moment, his voice soft when he spoke again. “And if I am?”
A murmur rippled through the crowd that had begun to gather, villagers shifting uncomfortably as they watched the exchange. The man before him, however, remained rigid.
“Then I’ve heard well about you. The rumors going around that you’ve killed not just monsters, but people. Merchants and travelers. Is that true?”
The boy stopped, his gaze lifting slowly from beneath his hood to meet the man’s eyes. He didn’t answer right away, but the air around him seemed to thicken, the tension palpable. More villagers gathered around, drawn in by the confrontation.
“You…knew someone I killed, then?” the boy asked, his voice quiet but steady.
The man took a step forward, jabbing a finger in Hyrule’s direction. “They say you killed a merchant not far from here.”
Hyrule blinked slowly, his face impassive as he absorbed the man’s words. He didn’t flinch at the accusation, nor did he show any sign of fear or guilt. His voice, when he spoke, was soft and steady. “Was he…someone worth recalling?”
The man’s nostrils flared. “Don’t play dumb with me!” he snapped. “He was a good man. A friend of mine, and I want answers, boy.”
“I killed many.” The boy replied, no change to his soft tone, “So perhaps I am who you seek.”
“So you admit you killed him!” The man exclaimed, “Why? What reason could you possibly have to murder an innocent man?”
“I have no reason to kill an innocent man.” He answered.
The boy remained quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting past the man, as if lost in thought. Then, with the same quiet calm, he spoke again. “He wasn’t innocent.”
The man took a moment to register what he said, eyes widening in shock. “…What?” His face turned red with anger.
“What do you mean he wasn’t innocent?!? He has done so much and I’ve known him for years-“
“He dared commit an atrocity against a woman. Took from her what wasn’t his to take. I killed him for it.”
The boy’s eyes (still looking away, yet still holding the man’s attention with it’s gaze.) slowly returned to the man’s, his voice still soft, still unwavering.
“Would you still call him innocent now?”
The crowd gasped, whispers rippling through the gathered villagers. The man’s face twisted in disbelief, shaking his head violently. “No… no, you’re lying!” he shouted, his voice rising. “He wouldn’t do something like that! He was a good man!”
The boy’s gaze didn’t waver, the weight of his words settling in the air with finality. “He wasn’t,” he said quietly. “And I killed him for it.”
The man took a stumbling step back, his face contorted with rage and denial. “You… you can’t just say that! You don’t get to decide who lives and dies, you are a BOY! He was my friend!”
The boy’s expression remained calm, his voice never rising. “I didn’t make the decision. He did. When he hurt her. I simply responded as I should.”
For a moment, the man looked as though he might lash out, his fists trembling at his sides. But before he could do anything, a woman’s voice cut through the tense silence.
“Is it true?” Both boy and man looked at her.
“Did that friend of his truly…hurt someone?” She asked again.
“It is true.” He answered, more whispers erupting from the crowd.
“If it’s true,” the woman said, stepping forward from the crowd, “then…then he deserved it!”
“WHAT?!?”
The man turned to her, his face a mask of disbelief. “You… you’re defending this? Defending him?”
“Aren’t you defending a vile man?” The woman said, crossing her arms, her eyes hard as she stared back at him as he stuttered to come up with a response. “If that friend of yours hurt a woman like this boy says, then he got what was coming to him.”
More murmurs spread through the crowd, this time in agreement. Some of the women nodded, their expressions grim but resolute. The man looked around, his face twisting as he searched for support, but found none.
“This… this can’t be happening,” he muttered, his voice breaking slightly. “He was my friend…since we was kids…”
Many in the crowd looked at the man in sympathy. Such news was never handled well. Especially when it involved someone you were close to.
The young boy stood there, silent, watching the man’s reaction with the same calm detachment. The man’s shoulders sagged in defeat, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “It doesn’t matter. You still killed him. We’ll have to report this.”
Before he could take step forward, the boy spoke up, “No. You won’t.”
The man froze, turning back to face the boy, disbelief flickering in his eyes. “What?”
The boy didn’t move, his gaze still fixed on the man. “You won’t report this.”
There was no malice in his voice, no threat. Just a calm, quiet certainty that sent a ripple of unease through the gathered crowd.
The villagers shifted uncomfortably, murmurs of confusion spreading like wildfire, but no one dared to step forward.
The man’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
The boy’s calm, unhurried tone seemed to strip the anger from him, leaving only the shock and disbelief that he was grappling with. He shook his head, almost as if trying to shake off the weight of the boy’s words. “I— H..How dare you..I have to report this!”
“No,” the boy repeated, his soft-spoken voice steady, unnervingly gentle. “You don’t. You now know what he did, and can now shun him for it. Just as everyone else already has.”
The man faltered, his hands trembling as they hung limply at his sides. His face was flushed, beads of sweat trickling down his temple, but he said nothing. He could find no words to respond, not as the weight of what had been revealed pressed down on him.
The boy’s eyes, still shadowed beneath his hood, locked onto the man’s.
There was no smile on his face, yet there was something unsettling about the way he looked at the man, something that didn’t belong on a face so young. It was a look that was far too old, far too experienced, for the boy it was attached to.
“Leave this matter behind,” the boy said quietly, his voice carrying an eerie finality. “He made his choice. Now you must make yours.”
The man’s breath caught in his throat. He glanced around at the villagers, but once more found no help in their faces. Some nodded slowly, others looked away. It was clear to them now—whether they liked it or not, the truth had been spoken. The boy, this…wanderer…wasn’t lying, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. And the man, deep down, knew it too.
Perhaps that was why he couldn’t accept it.
For a long, agonizing moment, the man stood there, caught between denial and the heavy reality settling over him. Then, slowly, with a pained expression, he backed away.
“He was… my friend,” the man muttered again, but his voice was weak, trembling. He turned away, shoulders sagging as he disappeared into the crowd.
The boy watched him go, his eyes following the hunched figure as it faded from view. For a moment, there was silence.
Then, almost to himself, the boy spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, yet clear enough for those closest to hear.
“…A different choice this time.”
He tilted his head slightly, as though considering something unseen, his gaze distant. His expression remained calm, though a flicker of something passed through his eyes.
The villagers, still unnerved by the exchange, glanced at one another, puzzled by his words but too hesitant to ask.
The boy smiled once more, soft, faint and fleeting, as he turned away from the villagers. He said nothing more, leaving them to wonder what he meant as he continued down the path, walking back into the now silent marketplace as if the confrontation had never happened at all.
.
.
.
——
——
.
.
.
“She must be beautiful,” whispered a small voice.
“Is she kind?” asked another, their soft, lilting tone drifting through the air like a breeze.
“Warm, too?” A third chimed in, fluttering closer to where the boy sat.
Hyrule, seated in the shallow waters of the fairy fountain, barely stirred at their questions. His thin form leaned back against a moss-covered stone, his cloak discarded beside him, revealing how frail and slight he truly had become.
The waters gently lapped against him, cool and clear, while tiny glowing fairies circled above, their curiosity as constant as their light.
“She is,” he murmured, his voice low and calm, answering their questions with a softness that matched the quiet of the fountain.
In his hand, a cloth moved slowly over the blade of his sword, wiping away the dried blood that clung to the steel. The crimson stains mixed with the water, turning it a faint pink before dispersing into nothing.
“And her eyes?” one of the fairies asked, fluttering down to rest near his shoulder, their wings glittering in the soft light of the fountain. “Are they as kind as yours?”
Hyrule’s lips quirked ever so slightly, a faint smile ghosting over his features. “They are… far more kinder.”
The fairies giggled softly at his response, their voices like tinkling bells as they flitted around him, never straying too far from the boy.
But beneath the peaceful scene, there was an unspoken heaviness that lingered in the air—something that clung to him like the blood on his sword, even as he cleaned it away.
“She must be someone very amazing,” one of the fairies whispered, hovering in front of him, their eyes wide and curious. “For you to feel so happy at the thought of her.”
“She is,” he said again, quieter this time. His eyes remained focused on his blade, his movements slow and methodical, as if the task of cleaning the blood from it was all that mattered in the moment.
The fairies, sensing the weight of his thoughts, quieted for a time, simply fluttering around him as he worked. The fountain’s waters shimmered with their light, casting soft reflections on his face, but nothing could soften the sharpness in his eyes.
A sharpness that didn’t belong on someone so young.
Eventually, one of the fairies drifted closer, their tiny voice softer now, hesitant. “Do you ever… rest?”
Hyrule paused, his hand stilling as the last of the blood was wiped clean from his blade. He set the sword down beside him, resting it against the stone, the cloth now stained with the evidence of his earlier fight.
“I do,” he replied softly, leaning his head back to stare up at the sky above, visible through the break in the canopy. “When I can.”
The fairies fluttered around him again, their delicate wings catching the light as they moved. They didn’t press him further, sensing that, for now, the questions down that path had reached their end.
And as Hyrule sat in the waters of the fairy fountain, his eyes distant and his form thin and tired, the quiet companionship of the fairies was all that filled the stillness around him.
One of the fairies flitted closer, their glow bright as they hovered near his face. "Tell us more about her," they asked softly, their voice full of innocent curiosity. "What is she like?"
Hyrule’s eyes softened, the hand resting on his sword going still as he leaned his head back against the stone. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet, reverent, almost worshipful.
“She’s… so incredible,” he began, his tone gentle, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the memory. “Kinder than anyone I’ve ever known. She doesn’t judge, no matter who she meets, or what they’ve been through. There’s this warmth about her—like she carries a light inside, something that draws people in without her even trying.”
The fairies hovered close, their wings slowing as they listened intently, captivated by the way his voice softened when he spoke of her.
“She has this way of smiling,” he continued, eyes drifting closed as he recalled the image of her in his mind. “It’s not just her lips that smile, but her eyes, too. It’s like... she can see through all the darkness and still find something good. She makes you believe in things—hope, love, a future.”
His voice wavered slightly, though his expression remained calm. “She’s very brave, too. So much stronger than she thinks. No matter how hard things get, she never gives up. She keeps going, keeps fighting, even…even when the world feels like it’s falling apart around she…”
Hyrule’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes still closed as he let himself remember her—the sound of her laughter, the way her presence alone could make the harshest days feel bearable.
For a moment, it felt like she was there, right beside him.
That the tragedies that had happened ceased to exist.
But when he finally opened his eyes, that smile faltered. The fairies were still there, their soft glow reflecting in the water, but she was not.
The sadness crept into his gaze, and his smile turned hollow as the weight of reality settled in. She wasn’t there. Not in this moment. Not in this place.
“She’s not here,” he murmured, more to himself than to the fairies. His voice was still soft, still gentle, but there was a deep ache hidden beneath those words.
“Oh to be young and in love…”
The Great Fairy glided toward Hyrule, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she observed him resting in the water. Her gaze lingered on his face, soft yet intense as he cleaned his blade, the blood from battle slowly fading away. Her voice, as gentle as a breeze, curled around him like a caress.
“It’s rare, little halfling,” she said, her smile warm, “to see someone so completely in love. Your heart sings for her in a way that most mortals can only dream of.”
Hyrule looked up, his expression calm and peaceful. He paused in his movements, letting the cloth hang loosely in his hand as he met her gaze. “She’s… everything,” he whispered, his tone reverent. “More than anyone could ever be. She’s kind, strong, beautiful. There’s nothing she lacks because even what she considers an flaw is perfect to me.”
The Great Fairy hummed, circling him slowly, her fairies fluttering around him with excitement, their tiny lights dancing in celebration of his devotion. “She sounds like the perfect mate,” the Great Fairy mused, her voice dipping into a playful tone. “Someone worthy of such fierce love and loyalty.”
Hyrule’s smile softened, “She is. And I’ll make sure she knows it every day.” His eyes brightening, I never want to give her a reason to hate me. When we reunite, she’ll be so loved, so cared for, that the thought of leaving won’t even cross her mind.”
The Great Fairy tilted her head, observing him with interest, but not an ounce of concern. Where humans would have been unnerved by his intensity, to the fae, such passion was only natural. The fairies swirled around him in delight, their wings buzzing as they echoed the Great Fairy’s sentiments. “A perfect mate,” they sang in unison, giggling in the air.
They swirled around him, their excitement clear. “Introduce her to us!” one of them chimed, their tiny voices buzzing around him. “We want to meet her!”
Another chimed in, “She must be so lovely! So kind!”
Hyrule’s expression softened, his gaze turning inward as he thought of (y/n). “She is... more than lovely. She’s warm, gentle. She’s strong, even when she doesn’t realize it. When she smiles... it’s like the sun after a storm.”
His voice grew quieter, reverent, as though speaking of her was akin to prayer. The fairies fluttered in close, their excitement building as he continued.
“She doesn’t know how special she is,” he added softly, closing his eyes as if savoring the image of her in his mind. “But I do. I’ll never let her feel unwanted or alone. I’ll always be there, making sure she’s safe. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her by my side.”
The Great Fairy leaned in closer, her tone teasing but gentle. “Such devotion… it’s admirable, little halfling. Perhaps you’ll truly bring her here one day, so we can meet this girl who has captured your heart so completely?”
Hyrule’s smile grew as he closed his eyes, as though he could see (y/n) standing before him in that very moment. “Of course I will,” he said softly, opening his eyes again, though the faint sadness lingered when she wasn’t truly there. “You’ll love her, I know you will. She deserves to meet you, and you deserve to meet someone so… perfect.”
The Great Fairy’s eyes sparkled with amusement, her voice coy. “And what of your sword brothers? From what you’ve spoke, their desires are the same as yours, too. They, too, wish to claim her heart, don’t they?”
Hyrule’s peaceful expression didn’t falter, “They do. And I understand that. I’m willing to share a place in her heart, as long as they’ve learned their lesson. We all want the same thing, after all—her happiness.”
The Great Fairy chuckled, a sound like chiming bells, full of mischief and curiosity. “But, little one, what would you do if they haven’t learned? If they were to stand in your way?”
Hyrule’s eyes gleamed, his smile gentle but his words weren’t, “If they haven’t learned… I’ll slaughter them. Every single one. And I’ll protect her on my own.” He said so easily, so casually, like talking about the weather.
The Great Fairy threw her head back and laughed, her voice exuberant and full of joy. Her fairies mirrored her glee, spinning and fluttering in the air in a celebratory dance, their wings glowing brighter as they reveled in the intensity of their great mother’s happiness. To them, Hyrule’s devotion was nothing but pure, powerful, and natural.
“Ah, such love!” the Great Fairy exclaimed, her eyes alight with delight. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen a love like yours, little halfling. A love that burns with such beautiful, sublime passion.”
The fairies circled around him, their voices giggling and singing as they celebrated his devotion, as though his words were a promise of something sacred. And to the fae, it was.
“Introduce her to us!” they begged, their voices filled with excitement.
Hyrule chuckled softly, his expression serene as he nodded. “I will, little sisters. It’s only natural to introduce someone as incredible as her to my family. One day. You’ll see just like I did…she’s perfect.”
The Great Fairy reached out, her fingers gently brushing against his cheek in a gesture of affection. “We look forward to it, little one. We’ll be waiting eagerly to celebrate your eventual union with such an amazing soul!”
And with that, the fairies continued their joyful flight around him, giggling and cheering louder at the future where they would meet her, while Hyrule sat by the fountain waters at peace, sword forgotten beside him, lost in thoughts of her, his smile soft, though touched by a quiet darkness.
——
——
Hyrule leaned against a tree by the edge of the forest, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
Rain poured down, soaking his clothes and matting his hair to his forehead, droplets of water streaming down his face. His sword hung loosely from his hand, the blade gleaming dully in the gray light, dripping with rain and something darker.
The river rushed nearby, its waters swollen from the storm, roaring in the quiet of the evening.
He glanced down at his soaked clothes, water pooling around his boots, but he paid little attention to the discomfort.
The rain masked everything—his exhaustion, the faint ache in his limbs, even the weight of his thoughts. But it couldn’t wash away the simmering feelings just beneath the surface.
The sound of the rushing river mixed with the steady downpour, the constant hum of the forest alive around him despite the storm.
He tilted his head back, feeling the rain on his face, his eyes half-lidded in thought.
Everything had felt strange since he had woken up in the past, as though he was constantly walking through a dream he could never quite escape.
“I miss them,” he murmured, his voice carrying only as far as the tree he leaned against. “My brothers…the only ones who I felt safe with…for so long... And yet…” His lips curved upward, a smile too soft for the words that followed. “Sometimes, I dream of stealing her away…to punish them… for their failure to keep her safe.”
He laughed lightly, as if the thought were as harmless as the falling rain, warm despite the darkness that laced his words.
“It’s strange,” he murmured into the storm, his voice barely louder than the patter of rain on leaves. “How everything’s felt… off.” His words were soft, but they carried an unsettling warmth, as if these thoughts were nothing out of the ordinary.
Hyrule tilted his head back, eyes closing briefly as he let the rain run over his face.
His eyes fluttered open, and there was a softness in his gaze, a calmness that made the words all the more disturbing. “But… I understand now. It’s over. What happened in that time is done, and I can’t change it. All I can do is make up for my failures and create newer memories...”
He pushed himself off the tree and took a few steps toward the riverbank, the rain still pouring down. “And when we’re all together again, it’ll be perfect. We’ll savor our reunion with her.”
There was a pause, as if he was savoring the thought, before he continued, almost as if speaking to the river itself. “But first, I need to clear this land of threats as best as i can. Gather enough wealth…Build a place that’s safe for her. I have to be ready. We all do.”
The rain fell freely from the darkened skies above, the evening air thick with moisture.
His voice, soft and wistful, carried through the trees, but it wasn’t clear who he was speaking to.
“Yet I can’t help but acknowledge how much it’s been quite the experience…walking a similar yet different path..”
Hyrule's voice echoed softly through the night, his tone distant, almost thoughtful.
“Ever since I woke up in the past, everything has felt... off. Like the world’s just a little tilted. Nothing feels right, but I suppose it’s what happens when you’re given another chance.”
He sighed softly, his words warm despite the unsettling nature of his thoughts.
“And still as much as i want to reunite with them, i still wish to hurt them too..”
He shifted his weight slightly, eyes distant as he spoke to the figure before him, “To wrap my hands around the handle go my blade and cut them down as they cry out in pain….To make them pay for failing to protect her, for letting her be taken from us. But, it’s not hate, not really.”
His voice carried a calm warmth that made the words unsettling. He spoke as if discussing a pleasant memory, not something so dark and twisted. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Wanting to hurt them but still loving them. I could never hate them forever. It simply wasn’t entirely their fault, after all.”
Hyrule let out a small sigh, almost wistful. “But I did truly hate them for a while. I hated them for not being strong enough, for not being fast enough... for not being better and keeping her safe.” He chuckled softly, as if the thought amused him. “But now, that time has passed and reversed, erased except the memories I hold… It’s not just their fault we failed. It’s mine as well. And I’ll make up for it.”
He hummed.
“But that’s natural, isn’t it? Wanting to punish them… To punish myself, for failing her.” He chuckled lightly, almost as if he were reminiscing about fond memories. “I hated them for a while. For a long while, actually. But it’s all over now. I know that. I understand that, and I have to atone for my own failures.”
He tilted his head slightly, staring off into the dark, rain-slicked forest as if imagining something far away. “When we find her again, everything will be different. We’ll savor every moment of our reunion, all of us together again. She’ll be safe with us. And it’ll be... perfect.”
Hyrule’s expression darkened, though the gentle smile on his face remained. “But before that, I have to finish things here. I need to clear out every threat in this place, amass enough wealth to give her a safe life, to build something beautiful amidst all this cursed and poisoned land. A place where she can live peacefully. A place where my sword brothers and I can keep her safe.”
He sighed, finally lowering his gaze to the figure at his feet. The rain had formed a pool around the man, blood mixing with the water, his body slumped against the roots of an old tree. His eyes, wide and filled with terror, locked onto Hyrule’s as he listened helplessly.
“I need to make sure that I’m ready for her. Ready for all of us to reunite…”
Hyrule crouched down, his eyes soft, almost regretful as he looked at the man. “Funny, isn’t it? You walked away from me in the market that day, made a different choice than last time. But it seems some things are inevitable… this little scene between us is happening sooner rather than later.”
He shook his head, amused. “Seems some things never change,” Hyrule said softly, almost regretfully. “You made a different choice again. Last time, you tried to burn me alive. Now, you pushed me toward rushing water. It’s a shame… I thought I might have more time before this.”
The man’s eyes flickered, desperate, but no words came. Hyrule’s smile was gentle as he crouched down beside him, the rain dripping from his hair. “I mean… to use you as another way to bond with my sword brothers…but I suppose we can’t always get what we want.”
He reached out, touching the man’s wet cheek in a gesture that seemed almost compassionate. “I can only hope we can bond over another tainted soul.” Hyrule sighed sadly, his voice soft with genuine regret.
“I really was hoping to do this again with the others. It was such a lovely bonding experience that time...”
The man tried to respond, but all that came out was a garbled, pathetic sound—his severed tongue preventing any real words. Hyrule gave him a pitying look, then slowly unsheathed his sword.
With one swift, clean motion, he cut off the man’s head, watching for several moments as his eyes fluttered, his face twitching until there was no movement left.
Hyrule waited for a long moment, staring into the lifeless eyes of the man, almost as if searching for something.
When there was nothing left to see, Hyrule stood up, sheathing his blade once more.
As Hyrule turned to leave, his gaze fell on a crown of flowers lying discarded in the mud, half-crushed by the struggle. The delicate petals were wilted, the once vibrant colors dulled by the rain and dirt.
He had been working on it when the man from the market snuck up on him.
He knelt beside it, picking up the ruined crown with gentle fingers, his eyes softening as a memory stirred.
He could almost see her, in that memory sitting in front of him, laughing as she showed him how to weave the flowers together, her hands guiding his clumsy attempts with infinite patience.
The warmth in her eyes, the sound of her voice—he had cherished every second of it. And now, this small, fragile thing, this crown, had been ruined.
It had been so long since he made one…
He had assumed she would always be there to re-teach him…
A deep sadness filled him, his heart aching as he held the crushed flowers. "She spent so much time teaching me," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible over the rain. "And now it’s ruined… he ruined it." His fingers tightened slightly around the crown, but not enough to damage it further.
As Hyrule pocketed the ruined flower crown, his steps slowed, his thoughts swirling with the same intensity as the fairies around him.
The rain drummed a steady rhythm on the leaves overhead, but his mind was elsewhere—drifting back to the quiet afternoons with her, back when things felt simpler. He could almost feel her hands guiding his as he fumbled with the stems, hear the soft way she teased him when he struggled to braid them just right.
His heart clenched at the thought. "I’ll make her another," he thought, trying to push away the sadness creeping in. But the moment was gone, ruined by the man lying lifeless in the mud. "If only he hadn’t tried to stop me," Hyrule mused. "I could’ve remembered everything clearly... made it perfect for her."
His gaze flicked back to the body, the severed tongue, the empty, lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.
Hyrule sighed, the heaviness in his chest growing. "I wanted to remember every detail, for her." His fingers brushed against the flower crown in his pocket, fragile and ruined, much like the memory it had been tied to. "I’ll make up for it. For everything."
The fairies' laughter danced around him, pulling him from his thoughts, and he straightened. "For her… I'll make it all perfect," he promised silently, his eyes narrowing as he left the body behind.
The fairies flitted around him, their soft glow casting a faint light over his rain-soaked form. They giggled and chimed, but there was no malice in their joy.
He cast one last glance at the man’s lifeless body, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he turned and began to walk away, leaving the corpse where it laid as he walked back into the storm.
The fairies’ chimes danced in the air as they continued to follow and swirl around him in delight, their soft laughter filling the air as the rain fell heavier, blending with the sound of the wind, rushing water and rustling leaves.
Sorry I’m late to the party! You REALLY surprised me with how fast this was churned out, I assumed you were only just starting it by the time you showed me the draft. Way to really surprise me!
Anyways I love the direction you took the idea I gave you, but I ADORE the scenes where we had Hyrule talking with the fairies. Absolutely priceless!
One day, a man realized he felt haunted for some time..
For weeks, the man had been aware of a presence that lingered on the edges of his awareness, like a shadow just beyond his reach.
It was subtle at first, a faint prickling on the back of his neck when he walked through the town, the sensation of being watched when he was alone in his study.
He brushed it off, passing it off as paranoia, the result of long hours and late nights.
But the feeling simply grew.
Growing stronger with each passing day. It was as though a pair of eyes were always on him, observing his every move.
He would catch a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a small figure darting into the shadows, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there. Just the empty street, bathed in the dim glow of lanterns.
He told himself it was nothing, just his imagination running wild. But the sensation was relentless.
It was preventing him from getting anything done.
He had an..appointment with the Trader yet he simply couldn’t make the visit with these unseen eyes following him.
In the following days, He began to see the figure more frequently—a young boy, always at a distance, always watching.
The boy never approached, never spoke. He was just there, a silent observer on the edge of the man's life.
The man, of course, tried to ignore it, tried to carry on with his routine as if nothing was wrong.
He continued his day work, and indulged in his hobbies, but the boy was always there, a constant, silent observer.
Sometimes, the man would feel the boy's eyes on him when he was at his most vulnerable, in the dead of night, when he was alone with his thoughts.
He would feel the gaze boring into him, cold and unyielding, as if the boy could see through everything he presented to the world.
As the days turned into weeks, the man's unease deepened. He started avoiding places where he had seen the boy, changing his routine to shake the feeling of being watched.
But it didn’t help. The boy seemed to anticipate his every move, always appearing wherever the man went.
It was almost as if he was toying with him. Yet he didn’t do anything besides observe.
The man’s nerves began to fray. He found himself glancing over his shoulder constantly, his heart racing at the slightest sound.
His sleep became restless, plagued by nightmares where the boy was always there, watching, waiting.
The feeling of being watched never left.
One night, after a particularly long day, the man stumbled out of a tavern, the alcohol dulling his senses.
He wandered out of town, seeking the quiet of the forest to clear his mind.
But even there, among the towering trees and the thick fog, he couldn’t escape the boy’s presence. He saw a flash of green in the distance, heard the faint rustle of leaves
The man shook his head.
But the fog seemed to thicken, wrapping around him like a shroud.
The moon offered no light, plunging the forest into a darkness that made even the shadows just a foot away from him feel solid and endless.
He stumbled forward, trying to push past the fog, trying to escape the oppressive silence.
His thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and fear. The alcohol in his system dulled his senses, making it difficult to think clearly, but the feeling of being watched had never been more intense. The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees looming like dark sentinels, their branches twisting into unnatural shapes that clawed at the sky.
He tried to focus, tried to convince himself that it was just the drink, that there wasn’t anything really there, but the sensation of those unseen eyes was impossible to ignore. He could feel them, cold and piercing, tracking his every movement.
The man’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent a fresh wave of terror through him.
As he stumbled deeper into the woods, the fog grew thicker, swirling around his feet and obscuring the ground beneath him.
The trees seemed to shift in the darkness, moving closer, as if conspiring to trap him. His footsteps echoed eerily in the silence, the sound of his own heartbeat loud in his ears.
He tried to steady himself, muttering under his breath. “It’s just… just the fog… just the drink… nothing more… nothing…”
But even as he spoke, he could feel those eyes. They were closer now, more intense.
He could almost hear the boy’s silent footsteps behind him, could almost feel the cold breath on the back of his neck. He spun around, but there was nothing—just the oppressive fog and the dark outlines of trees.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a flash of green, a pair of eyes staring at him from the shadows. The man froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins.
The eyes were fixed on him, unblinking and full of something he couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t malice, but it wasn’t benign either. It was as if the boy was studying him, dissecting him with those cold, eerie eyes.
Panic seized him. He stumbled backward, tripping over a root and nearly falling. His breath came in short, frantic gasps as he struggled to tear his gaze away from those eyes, but they held him captive, paralyzing him with fear.
The man’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the alcohol and the terror clouded his thoughts.
With a burst of adrenaline, he turned and ran, pushing blindly through the fog, desperate to escape those eyes. His feet pounded against the earth, his breath ragged and harsh in his throat.
The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees becoming a blur as he sprinted through the undergrowth. But no matter how fast he ran, the feeling of being watched never left him.
He could still feel the boy’s eyes on him, could still hear the faint sound of footsteps behind him. He didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare slow down. But the forest was unforgiving, and the fog made it impossible to see where he was going.
His foot caught on something—a root, a rock, he couldn’t tell—and he went down hard, the ground rushing up to meet him.
He hit the earth with a thud, the air knocked out of his lungs. Pain shot through his body, and for a moment, he lay there, stunned and disoriented. His mind screamed at him to get up, to keep running, but his body refused to move, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion.
Why were they after him?
What did they want?
He didn’t have time to dwell on it. He had to keep moving, had to—
A soft hum pierced the silence, echoing through the fog. The man froze, every muscle tensing as his eyes darted around, searching for the source.
Noise came again, closer this time, followed by a voice, light.
“He’s getting tired, isn’t he?” the voice commented.
“Of course he is,” another voice chimed in, this one colder, more detached. “They always do.”
The man’s breath hitched in his throat as he tried to locate the speakers.
But the trees were too thick, the darkness too deep.
He couldn’t see them, but he could…could feel their eyes burn his skin.
Closing in, circling him like vultures.
He scrambled to get up, but pain in his calf erupted when he tried to pull his leg forward, the pain pinning him in place.
“Going somewhere?” the voice spoke out.
The man’s heart nearly stopped as he looked over his shoulder and saw them—four boys.
Other than their clothes from what he could spot in the dark, they were identical in every way, the same tousled hair, the same wide eyes, the same faces.
But their eyes… their eyes were wrong, wrong for any child to wear. The way their faces held such different expressions.
They stared at him, casually, sadly, uncaringly, angrily.
“Wha—what…?” the man stammered, his voice shaking as he looked down and saw thick branch sticking out of his leg, keeping him in place.
Children…
…Children had been chasing him this whole time.
This…
This was utterly ridiculous.
Yet one of the children, the green one, crouched down, resting his chin on his hands as he studied the man with curiosity. “You look surprised,” he said, tilting his head. “What, did you expect someone…older?”
The man’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
His mind was reeling, unable to process the horror before him. How could this be?
How could four children—siblings from the looks of it-be the ones who had been hunting him?
Was this some kind of joke?
“Trying to figure out what’s happening? It won’t matter in a moment.” the cold voice asked, its owner, the purple one, stepping closer.
His uncaring eyes held an eerie calmness that made the man’s skin crawl.
“But to give you some insight, We’ve been following you all night,” He added, looking down at the man with a wide closed smile. “…as well as the past month…lots of hard work…” He brought a hand up and tapped chin while looking up.
“But I guess it’ll be worth it.” Looking back down at the man. “I suppose this is all unexpected for you, isn't it? Being the one chased? Not the chaser?”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward for a second before returning to its neutral position, “You always were fond of that part of your hunting hobby, weren’t you-the chase I mean.”
The man shook his head violently, confused, his breath coming in panicked gasps. “Please… I don’t… I didn’t do anything to you…”
The air around them became heavy. The man’s breath quickened as he felt the weight of the boy’s gaze, each step the boy took toward him making his heart pound harder.
“You think we don’t know about you?” Blue snarled, his voice low and seething with anger. “You think we haven’t heard what you’ve done? The lives you’ve taken?”
The man’s eyes darted between the four boys, each one staring at him with a level of focus and cold calculation that seemed impossible for children. The realization that they knew something about him—something dark and hidden—sent a shiver down his spine.
“I— I swear,” he stammered, his voice trembling with fear. “I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”
“Well, you’re right about that.” Vio’s expression darkened as he stepped forward, his dagger gleaming ominously in the dim light. “Enough of this. We’re not here to listen to your excuses.”
The man tried to pull away, desperation clawing at his insides, but the pain in his leg kept him pinned to the ground. He could feel the cold earth beneath him, the dampness seeping into his clothes, mixing with the sweat of his fear.
“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just… just let me go.”
Green knelt beside him, his face inches away from the man’s. “Anything?” he repeated, his voice soft and sweet, like a child asking for a treat. “Anything at all?”
The man nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face as he grasped at the faint hope that they might spare him. “Yes! Anything! I’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.”
The boys exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, Red sighed and looked down at the man with a mixture of pity and disdain.
“You misunderstand,” he said quietly. “This isn’t about what you can give us. It’s about what you’ve tried to ruin for us.”
The man’s eyes widened in confusion and terror. “Ruin? I… I don’t understand…”
Blue’s anger flared again, his small hands clenched into fists. “Of course scum like you wouldn’t understand,,” he hissed. “I wish we could take our time with you.”
“There will always be others Blue.” Vio said calmly.
Blue scoffed.
Without another word, Vio moved smoothly, his dagger flashing in the pale light as it cut through the air. The man’s choking filled the silent forest, a raw, desperate sound that faded into the night as quickly as it had begun.
——
——
Four had never thought of himself as someone who was good at pretending.
What was the point? He wasn’t one for hiding and faking his thoughts.
But the moment he woke up to the sounds of his Grandfather calling him…
Far away from the others..
From Her…well…
He quickly learned the value of simply….playing his part.
If asked, he would reminisce about exactly what had happened on his journey.
The festival, the sealed chest being opened by Vaati, Zelda being turned to stone…
Ezlo…
Yet…what he would not have mentioned was that it was as if he had been guided along by his memories like a doll.
Seeing from someone else’s eyes.
Every single step already having been done once before, his expression perfectly suiting each moment.
The perfect actor.
He would have hated it if he had felt much of anything during that time.
He could not split (why couldn’t he split? He was One but not Whole, Singular when he should have been perfectly fragmented…whycouldn’thesplit-)
Yet, it was as if his colors still whispered in his mind, each one speaking their own thoughts on the matters happening.
But he hated them…(they weren’t right. They didn’t fit. They should have surged forth, demanding for him to split, demanding that he faced what he pushed aw-nothing was right…nothing was utterly right…)
‘This is an illusion.’
‘This shouldn’t be real.’
‘Where are the others?’
‘Where is She?’
(Shut up….shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup-)
Even Ezlo, perched atop his head in the form of a hat, never noticed anything wrong.
Or perhaps he had…perhaps he had seen it all yet merely ignored it.
Link didn’t care to know.
To Ezlo, Four was simply a dedicated boy, focused on his tasks, eager to right the wrongs that had brought Ezlo to where he was.
But Vaati…
Such a keen eye….
Even in his corrupted form, saw through the masks he presented to everyone.
The dark sorcerer couldn’t quite place what was different, but during a moment when Ezlo and him were purposely separated (such a change to what he once remembered…), he had admitted that something about Four unsettled him.
And also intrigued him.
Perhaps it was the way Four’s eyes seemed to glaze over when he wasn’t speaking, or how his actions were too precise, too controlled—as if they were rehearsed. Or simply like a puppet on a string.
To be moved along as intended.
Even when the journey came to an end and Four and Ezlo said their goodbyes, Four’s performance never faltered.
He smiled to those he cared for, nodded, and spoke the right words, playing his role to perfection.
It was the only thing that made sense. (Because it meant he didn’t need to focus on what he-…)
This was all…so confusion. (WhatcausedthisHewantedtogobackWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthisWhatcausedthis-)
And beneath the surface, the whispers of his colors grew louder, more insistent, questioning, doubting.
(But they weren’t there. Not yet. So he ignored those voices made from illusions. Voices who should have been there already but weren’t-)
He felt empty.
A doll who played his part.
Even when he wanted to silence the loud voices that tried to speak to him when he left the house.
Even when he was touched or tugged by others. (Their touch causing his skin to crawl, their voices making him desire to claw off his ears.)
Yet the world seemed to finally deem his performance in his role to be enough for a reward.
His precious sword…
It wasn’t until he regained his Four Sword that he felt anything at all. (Because it was always his. Not even the others could deny such a fact. It was his sword. HIS. It was what made him exactly as he should be. And it’s been so..so..long since he felt right…)
As he drew the blade, the world shifted, and the sob that escaped him as he felt the Magicks invade his being and pull him apart was one of relief.
He could feel it as it happened, as he split into his four selves…
Red, Blue, Green, and Vio.
The relief of feeling something, of being something that wasn’t singular, was enormous.
He would have even gladly accepted agony if it meant his being was put to rights.
Yet once he was no longer One but Four…
He couldn’t deny what he had rejected for so long…
Almost immediately, the fragments began to lash out at one another, voices raised in anger and accusation.
“It’s your fault she’s gone!” Red shouted, his eyes wild with desperation as tears flowed immediately.
“She wouldn’t have wanted to stay away if you hadn’t been so careless!” Blue snapped back, his fists clenched.
“Stop it, you two! We need to focus on the most important issues here” Vio’s voice was cold, but his hands trembled as he gripped his sword.
Each one was desperate to place the blame elsewhere, to find some semblance of control in the chaos that had consumed them.
They wanted something else, someone else, to be the reason things went wrong…
They didn’t want it to be them.
Red sobbed, his eyes wild with desperation, tears streaming down his face. His small hands trembled, clutching his sword as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded.
Blue’s expression twisted with fury as he turned on Red, his fists clenched tight, the knuckles white. “Don’t blame me for your own mistakes” he spat, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and hurt. “You were supposed to make her happy, and you failed! You should have been better!”
Red recoiled at the words, but his sorrow quickly turned to defiance. “Me? You were the one who pushed her away when it mattered! You should’ve been better, should’ve done something to ease her heart! But you didn’t!”
“You don’t know that! None of us do!” Green’s voice cut through the argument, sharp and defensive, though there was a wavering uncertainty in his tone.
He stood between them, trying to play the mediator, but his hands shook as he spoke, betraying his own doubts. “We don’t know what really happened! We don’t know if—”
“If she’s even still alive?” Vio finished, his voice cold and cutting. The words hung in the air, heavy and unbearable. Vio’s grip tightened around his sword, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of his own fears. “We need to focus on the most important issues here,” he said, his tone forcibly calm, but the tremor in his hands belied the control he tried so desperately to maintain.
“No!” Red cried, shaking his head violently, his tears falling faster. “S-She’s alive! She has to be! We can’t give up on her!”
“Red, you’re being naive!” Blue snapped, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. “You saw what happened, heard what…what (y/n) said to us… Do you really think she’ll just come back to us? That she’ll stay with us after what we did?”
Green hesitated, caught between the two sides, his heart torn. “But…what if we’re wrong? What if she’s waiting for us? What if we can still fix this?”
Vio’s eyes darkened as he turned away from them, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t just about what we want anymore. It’s about dealing with the consequences of what we’ve done…of what we failed to do.” His gaze flickered toward the others, cold and sharp. “We need to be realistic. We can’t keep chasing after dreams when reality is staring us in the face.”
Red’s face contorted with pain, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t care about reality… I just want her back… I want us to be truly whole again.”
“We’ll never be whole again!” Blue snapped, his voice breaking as he finally voiced the fear that had been festering inside him. “We’ve lost her! We don’t even know where the others are! We’re somehow reliving this again! We lost everything when she turned away from us, and it’s our fault she did it!”
Green’s eyes filled with tears as he shook his head, desperately trying to hold on to some shred of hope. “But we have to try! We can’t just give up! We can’t just…leave her behind…”
“Shut up!” Vio snapped, his cold facade finally crumbling. “All of you, just shut up! None of this changes what happened! None of this changes what we did—or didn’t do!”
Their voices overlapped, growing more heated, more desperate, each one throwing accusations, trying to deflect the guilt and pain that threatened to consume them.
“It was your fault!”
“No, it was yours!”
“You should have done something!”
“We all failed!!
The argument went in circles, the same accusations, the same denials, the same pain, over and over again, until their voices were hoarse and their spirits were spent. It was like they were stuck, trapped in an endless loop of blame and regret, unable to move forward, unable to let go.
—-
—-
Throughout their journey in , the colors wrestled with the traces of their arguments and guilt.
The weight of their memories and their failure to protect her loomed over them, a cruel hole in their hearts. Yet, despite the lingering tension, they had no choice but to work together.
Red was the first to break the silence that often settled between them, his voice hesitant but filled with a small glimmer of hope.
"Maybe...maybe we could make something for her? You know, if we...if we ever find her again." He didn't meet their eyes, instead fiddling with a small piece of wood he had picked up along the way.
Blue scoffed, but there was no real bite in his tone. "And what? Hand it to her with an apology?” He snorted, a scowl on his face, “Like that would fix everything."
Green bit his bottom lip, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "It might not fix anything, but it's…something. Maybe it's a way to show her that...that we still care, that we're trying to be better."
Vio, who had been silent up until that point, finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an underlying tension. "It's a start. We have nothing to lose by trying."
Red brightened at their responses, the glimmer of hope in his eyes growing a little stronger. "We could each make something, something that comes from the heart. It doesn't have to be much, just...just a token of what we feel."
“We would need proper materials…”
“Does it have to be one gift? Maybe a matching set or something?”
“If it’s a gift to her…it should be perfect…”
They all hesitated, the thought of crafting something meaningful for her stirring a mix of emotions within them.
But one by one, they were in agreement. It was a small step, but it was still a step forward.
As they journeyed on, they found themselves slowly working together, the tension between them gradually easing but still holding on to them.
They would often catch Red murmuring to himself as he gathered materials, his mind clearly on the gifts he was planning.
Blue, though gruff and still quick to snap, was more careful with his words and actions, as if he was trying to make up for his earlier harshness.
Green, ever the mediator, worked tirelessly to keep them focused and united, though the strain was evident in his eyes.
Vio, ever the observer, kept a close eye on their progress as they journeyed through the treacherous lands, but his thoughts were often elsewhere.
The burden they all carried weighed heavily on their mind, especially when they were all still separated, and the pretense he maintained with Shadow was both a strategy and a strain.
One evening, Vio found himself with Shadow in the tower.
The dark counterpart emerged from behind him, his eyes gleaming with that new curiosity that stayed in his eyes since they first interacted, but tonight, there was something more to his demeanor.
“You are a lot more different then I expected,” Shadow remarked, his voice dripping with a mix of intrigue and something more unsettled. “All of you. You guys act one way, but inside… I can tell there’s something else going on. Something you're all hiding.”
Vio didn’t let his expression falter.
Of course Shadow would notice—he was as much a part of them as they were of each other. “We have our roles to play,” Vio replied, his tone measured and calm. “What you see is what we need to be.”
Shadow tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied Vio. “So, it’s all an act? Pretending to be something you’re not? Trying to fool someone?” He bared his teeth in a mocking smile, his voice a dangerous whisper. “Or maybe…trying to fool yourselves?”
Vio’s calm facade didn’t waver, but the weight of Shadow’s words pressed on him. “Perhaps we are trying to fool ourselves,” he admitted quietly. “There are… things we haven’t fully come to terms with. Things that still haunt us.”
Shadow leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near hiss. “Come to terms with what, exactly? What are you hiding, Vio? Don’t be coy with me. Tell your pal Shadow the truth.”
Vio stared back at Shadow, his expression cool, but his mind carefully choosing his next words. “We lost someone important to us. Someone we failed to protect,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of the sorrow he kept buried. “We’re still trying to figure out how to make it right.”
Shadow’s gaze bored into Vio, as if trying to pry the truth from him with sheer will. Then, slowly, a knowing smile curled his lips, but it wasn’t a friendly one. “You’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are,” he said, his tone laced with dark amusement. “You can fool the princess, your Sword Brothers, even yourself, but not me.”
Shadow chuckled at the heavy stare Vio aimed at him.
“I see through the cracks, Vio. I can feel the darkness in you. What wonderful darkness you have. You’re all pretending, acting like everything’s fine, but I can feel it, there’s something festering inside you, something rotten. Something…unheroic.”
He grinned, “I kinda like it.”
Vio’s eyes flickered, but he remained composed. “So observant,” he remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Shadow’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “You can hide a lot of things, Vio. But you can’t hide what haunts you—not from me. The guilt, the fear… the anger. It’s all there, bubbling just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to suppress it.”
Vio knew Shadow was right. But he also knew that Shadow didn’t fully understand it, couldn’t grasp the depth of what they were hiding—not completely. Not when he was disconnected from them like this. Cut off from them by the Dark Mirror and Ganon’s powers.
“I suppose we really can’t hide anything important from you ,” Vio replied calmly, watching the dark counterpart preen. “But we don’t need to hide all that from you. Just from everyone else while we keep moving.”
Shadow scoffed, but his eyes remained fixed on Vio, studying him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “All this cause you made the wrong choices and refuse to accept it? Hmph, and I thought Vaati was arrogant.”
“Well that’s just cruel.”
Shadow waved him off, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Vio. And one day, the mask you’re wearing will crack.”
He tapped his chin and leaned closer, “I bet She’d reject anything you present to her the moment she saw you.” His voice holding a hint of glee when Vio tensed.
Vio’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t respond. He knew Shadow didn’t realize what it was he said.
He knew Shadow was aware of something, he had been behaving a bit off since their very first interactions…but he couldn’t afford to let him see the whole truth. He wasn’t ready…Not yet.
Shadow lingered for a moment longer, his eyes dark and unreadable, before he turned and melted back into the shadows. But as he disappeared, his parting words hung in the air like a curse.
“I’ll always be watching you guys, Vio. And when the time comes, we’ll see just how well you can keep denying your mistakes.”
“I never denied anything.” he said firmly.
Shadow shrugged with a smirk.”Keep telling yourself that.”
Shadow’s presence faded, leaving him alone, Vio felt the weight of the encounter settle heavily on his shoulders.
Shadow knew more than he realized, but still, being so disconnected from them meant he didn’t understand the full extent of their pain, their guilt.
And Vio…Link… intended to keep it that way, keep it from everyone, at least for as long as he could.
At least until things made sense again.
—-
—-
The boys watched in silence as the man’s body slumped to the ground, his eyes wide with the final realization of his fate. The fog thickened around them, swallowing the scene in its cold embrace.
Red stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the lifeless form. “Hard to believe he was a killer,” he said softly. “Didn’t he give himself up last time?”
Blue nodded, his anger subsiding into a cold determination. “And we just sped up the timeline. Not like anyone will ever know he was here.”
Green smiled faintly, his earlier amusement replaced by a calm satisfaction. “Another job well done, I’d say.”
Vio cleaned his dagger on the man’s clothes before sheathing it. “Only way the job will be done is when we head back and get the Trader’s favor”
Red nodded, sheathing his sword with a satisfied look. “So the trader owes us now right, for protecting him?” he said, hopeful. “And that means we can get high-quality materials for cheap right? He has just what we’re looking for.”
Blue began inspecting the man’s pockets, searching for anything of use, grinning at his findings. “He won’t need these anymore,” he muttered, pulling out a pouch of Rupees and tossing it to Green, who caught it with a soft snort. “Lucrative business, killing visiting traders and selling their products as your own.”
“Not so lucrative anymore thanks to us. Nice work, everyone,” Green said, his voice cheerful once more, as if they had just finished a game. “(Y/n) will be so happy when she returns and sees what we made for her.”
“We won’t have anything to show if we don’t get the materials,” Vio said finally, his voice calm and steady. “We’ve done what we needed here, let’s go.”
The boys turned and disappeared into the fog, leaving no trace behind. The forest remained silent, as if it had never witnessed the horrors that had unfolded within it.
——
——
After Ganon's defeat, after Shadow returned to them. (He hoped to introduce him to (y/n) one day….)
The Colors felt it—the hollow void gnawing at their insides, deeper than the exhaustion that weighed down their limbs. They had won, but victory brought them no joy. It brought them no peace.
No other adventures to distract them.
All that was left was simply to exist until something changed.
In the days that followed, they tried to live, tried to go on as if things were bearable.
Four moved through his life in a daze, performing tasks out of habit rather than purpose.
The cheerful chaos that normally followed when he split now replaced by either a spiral argument or silence, their conversations reduced to the bare minimum needed to share thoughts.
The one thing that kept them grounded enough to continue on, the one thing that gave them a semblance of purpose: (y/n).
At first, it was a fleeting thought, a distant longing for something they couldn't quite grasp. But as the days turned into weeks, that longing grew, twisted. They found their thoughts eaten by the idea of crafting the perfect gifts for her. Latching onto the idea like a lifeline.
They threw themselves into their work, desperate to fill the void within them with something—anything—that would make them feel whole again.
Crafting became their escape. Every waking moment was spent planning, designing, and perfecting gifts for (y/n).
If they had cared to truly notice, they would have been aware of the worried looks aimed at them.
(Four would sometimes hear Zelda speak with worry to his grandpa…funny how he felt nothing at the thought of any of them. They were just like everyone else. White noise.)
Green focused on weaponry, his mind racing with ideas for swords, shields, and bows. He became obsessed with crafting the most exquisite weapons, imagining how (y/n) would wield them in battle.
(He envisioned her face lighting up with joy as she held a sword he had forged with his own hands, the blade gleaming with a power he had poured his very soul into.)
Blue turned his attention to armor, his hands never idle as he worked on intricate designs. He wanted her to be safe, protected from any harm that might befall her. Each piece he crafted would be nothing less than masterpieces, infused with enchantments that would keep her from harm.
(How beautiful she would be when she wore it? Would she finally understand how much they cared, how much they needed her to be safe?)
Vio focused on accessories—rings, amulets, and pendants that would enhance her abilities. He studied ancient texts and experimented with new techniques, his mind a whirlwind of ideas. His thoughts were always centered on her.
He wanted her to know that they were doing this for her, that they wanted her to be happy, to thrive…with them.
Red, the most emotionally driven of the group, poured his heart into crafting gifts that were not just functional, but beautiful. He wanted to create jewelry that sparkled like the stars, flowers that would never wilt, and small trinkets that he hoped would make her smile.
But as that desire grew, so did the desperation in their
They all needed her to see how much they cared, needed her to understand that she was the only thing keeping them tethered to this world.
—
——
———
“It’s been a while since we’ve spent time together like this, hasn’t it, Link?”
Zelda stood on the balcony of the castle, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the stone floor.
She watched Four out of the corner of her eye as he silently admired the view, his expression serene. But the calmness in his face was off somehow, like a doll carefully painted with a cheerful smile, too perfect to be real.
…It worried her.
Four turned to her with that same perfect smile, his eyes reflecting the warm hues of the sunset. “I’ve been busy with the forge,” he said with an even tone that matched the serene smile on his face. “I’m sorry I haven’t come over to say hi.”
“I’ve heard, you’ve been making quite the name for yourself. I’m very happy for you.” The princess said warmly, genuinely happy for him.
Four felt nothing. No joy, no excitement at the prospect of spending time with his old friend.
His mind was already drifting back to the forge, to the hammer and anvil, the clanging metal, the comforting heat of the flames.
The thought of continuing his work brought him more peace than anything else.
He didn’t have to focus on anything other than the hypnotic rhythm of hammer on metal.
And Zelda tried to smile back, yet she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was different about him.
She remembered how Link used to be, energetic, full of curiosity, always eager to solve any challenge thrown his way. To entice her away from her royal duties and play with him.
But now, there was something artificial in his behavior, a detachment she couldn’t quite understand.
She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to reach him in a way that words couldn’t. “Link, you know you can talk to me, right? We’ve been through so much together. You’re my friend.”
The word "friend" echoed in Four’s mind, but it felt like a distant memory, something he acknowledged because it was true, but with no real attachment to it.
Not anymore.
He knew he should care, he should feel some sense of loyalty, affection, or at least nostalgia. But all he could muster was a dull sense of acknowledgment. Zelda was important, of course, she was the princess, a blood descendant of Hylia.
By all accounts, he should harbor resentment or reverence, after what Hylia had done.
But instead, he felt nothing for her. No hate, no love, just a strange indifference that he was careful to mask.
Hurting her feelings wouldn’t give him what he really wanted anyone.
“Of course, Zelda,” he replied, his voice bright and reassuring. “We’re friends, and I’m always here for you too.”
Zelda’s fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder before she pulled away, nodding as if reassured.
Yet her heart was heavy with unease. Something in his eyes, the way they didn’t quite meet hers, the way they lacked the spark she remembered, told her that something was deeply wrong.
But she couldn’t pinpoint it, couldn’t voice it, and that uncertainty gnawed at her.
“Why don’t we head inside? It’s getting chilly,” she suggested, hoping to draw him into a conversation.
Four nodded agreeably and followed her inside the castle, his mind already wandering back to the forge.
He played his part well, engaging in polite conversation, smiling and laughing at the appropriate moments.
But inwardly, all he wanted was to return to his work, to the rhythm of the hammer, to the heat that drowned out everything else.
As they walked through the castle halls, Zelda glanced at him from time to time, every time she thought she saw something, it was gone in an instant, replaced by that perfect, empty smile.
“Link,” she said quietly as they reached the doors to the grand hall, “I’m really glad you’re here with me.”
He smiled back at her, a smile that reached his eyes just enough to fool anyone who wasn’t looking too closely. “I’m glad to be here too,” he said, but inside, he was already counting the minutes until he could leave, until he could be alone again, where he didn’t have to pretend.
As the afternoon wore on, Zelda led him through the castle, guiding him through various rooms and gardens, trying to rekindle old memories and activities they once enjoyed together.
Before Shadow and Ganon, before Vaati and the Minish.
They worked on a puzzle in the library, played a few rounds of chess in the grand hall, and wandered through the palace gardens where Zelda pointed out the blooming flowers, each one carrying a story from their past.
Throughout it all, Four maintained his facade, engaging politely but with a sense of detachment. He responded to Zelda’s attempts to reconnect with the same artificial cheerfulness that had become his default.
Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the something in her eyes, masked by her bright smile, but he chose to ignore it.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, Zelda walked Four to the main entrance. She lingered a moment, her gaze following him as he prepared to leave.
“Thank you for spending the day with me, Link,” she said, her voice gentle but tinged with an hidden layer of sadness. “I’ve missed these moments with my dear friend.”
Four nodded, forcing a smile. “It was a pleasure. Don’t let those grumpy councilmen keep you too busy.”
As he turned to leave, he noticed Zelda waving goodbye, her smile now holding a subtle melancholy that she tried to hide.
For a brief moment, Four felt a pang of heaviness.
Yet, he couldn't muster the emotional energy to bridge the gap between their feelings. He knew she had once been a dear friend, but now he was more concerned returning to his forge.
He walked away, the image of Zelda’s sad smile lingering in his mind.
Deep down, he knew if he bluntly told her he wanted nothing to do with her, she would accept it. She was understanding like that. Though she would accept albeit sadly.
Yet the thought was fleeting compared to his overwhelming desire to return to his solitary work.
The heat of the forge, the rhythm of the hammer, it was his refuge from a world that no longer made sense with nothing else left to ground him.
———
——
—
The more they crafted, the more their desperation determination deepened.
They began to imagine what it would be like if (y/n) fought alongside them, wielding the weapons they had created just for her.
The thought of her in battle, strong and powerful, became a fixation. They knew the other heroes wouldn't approve, (perhaps he should hone his own fighting skills for the inevitable clash. He’ll have to find time between crafting…)
They would likely be upset over Four crafting weapons for their darling, but the hero didn't care.
They wanted her to be happy, wanted her to see that they would do anything for her.
If she wanted to learn how to fight, they would teach her. They never should have denied her anything.
If she wanted to wield a sword, they would forge the finest blade. Never any of those shoddy blades that the Cook always used.
They were no longer just crafting gifts; they were crafting a vision of a future with her, a future where she needed them as much as they needed her.
In their dreams, they saw her smile as she accepted their offerings, saw her eyes light up with affection and gratitude.
And when they woke, the emptiness within them was more pronounced, the need for her even more intense.
They wanted to be whole again, back when things weren’t strange yet familiar.
New despite knowledge to the contrary.
To feel the warmth of life flowing through their veins. And in their minds, the only way to achieve that was through her.
She was their light, their hope that a warm future was possible for a Hero, the one person that could fill the void that has existed since all of this happened.
And so, they continued to craft, whatever didn’t reach their standards, was scrapped and remade.
Again and again, never settling for less.
Any that couldn’t be saved but still had a semblance of worth were given to his grandfather to sell at whatever price he saw fit.
More money meant more materials.
More materials meant more options to craft with.
And whatever he couldn’t obtain through hunting. He would take from sales.
Perhaps the whispers of the townspeople, should have made him feel something when he started bringing income.
‘He’s taking to his grandfather’s craft rather well!’
But they meant nothing.
‘A prodigy, that one.’
Their praise wasn’t the one he wanted.
‘Have you seen the quality of his blades?’
‘Blades? Look at his armor! Such craftsmanship! Friend of mine bought one and it handled a moblin club to the chest no problem!’
‘I heard the king was interested in his weaponry and armor and the boy declined!’
‘Quite young to be so dedicated to mastering his craft isn’t he?’
‘…Does he take custom commissions?’
He heard it, and cared for none of it.
Nothing flawed would ever be gifted to (y/n).
They can praise his failures. He only cared for the money needed for supplies and materials.
He would make the perfect gifts.
And if she didn’t like it…
Then he’ll remake them.
Again and again.
He’s gained the favor of many traders and merchants.
He had better materials than before.
He’ll surely make something splendid.
“Hmm…” Four looked at the finished blade, examining it from all angles.
To the eyes of an outsider, it was a fine blade indeed.
The quality of metal was clear. Polished well, the edges so fine one would assume a hair strand would split in two if dropped on it.
Several long minutes passing before his frown deepens.
‘Not good enough…’
And with not a single other glance, he tosses it into the large crate in the corner.
Later his grandfather will take the crate and pick what will be on display tomorrow.
It’ll be sold off by midday.
That’s what he overheard happened these days anyway.
At least he’ll have more space for his creations..
‘Again…’ was all he said to himself as he began to gather new materials to create another blade.
You already know how I feel about this bit, but just to reiterate I love how you decided to characterize Four as someone who copes by going through the motions. Everything regarding his routine following his two adventures emphasizes the mundanity he feels being forced to relive the same things over and over again while surrounded by people who don’t know.
Also, I just realized this, but Four mentioning the armor he started crafting for (y/n) reminded me of a squire and their knight, idk why. Great work!❤️❤️❤️
If you write for the cringe links then may I request Yandere! Courage (Animated Link) with a reader that's open to giving him affection?
Like when he constantly asks for kisses and such they just, give them to him and he's soo smitten with them for it?
Of course! This one got to be a little long so it’ll be under the cut, hope it’s satisfying!
Courage, along with Korodai to some degree, is an absolute sucker for affection and that’s all because of his Zelda - just in a backwards way.
See, the thing with Courage and his Zelda is - if we assume the cartoon is completely canon - that they eventually fell into a very predictable cycle that didn’t end until he eventually left to join the Chain and met you. The two of them would face whatever problem Ganon sent their way, bickering all the while, and then he’d go in for a kiss, only to get interrupted.
He’s gotten kisses from Zelda before, he’s gotten hugs and affection from her on a few occasions in fact, but it’s always something he has to earn. He can’t just say “can I have a kiss” and she’ll just give him one without getting embarrassed or offended.
It’s not like this is some great moral failing on her part, but it does mean that Courage ends up being used to half-jokingly asking for some shred of physical affection only to be met with instant rejection. He doesn’t mind, he’s used to this kind of reaction, he’s prepared for this kind of reaction.
What he is not used to is being given what he asks for without any hesitation.
The first time it happens it’s a complete shock to his system, he asks for a kiss and gets one pressed against his cheek almost instantly. And when that happens he’s left standing there for a second, wide eyed and still as a statue, before he blushes and stutters like he’s never been touched before.
And the thing is, it isn’t the kiss itself that makes him so flustered, it’s how easily he’s given it by you. There was no groan or hesitation or anything that indicated that you were doing it begrudgingly.
He asked for a kiss and he got the kiss, and he got it with you being completely willing and even happy to do so.
In the moment, Courage does his best to brush this off with his usual banter and demeanor, but the moment stays in the back of his mind as he keeps replaying it over and over and over. It’s pretty much the only thing that he can think about when he’s around you, wondering if that was just a one time thing.
Eventually, Courage decides to take a risk and ask once more for a kiss, he even points to the cheek you kissed last time. And just like before, you spare him that sliver of affection without a second thought, and he understands that this isn’t a fluke.
It isn’t a world changing revelation by any means but it sets him on the path to moving on from his Zelda with you.
Of course, this doesn’t just end with Courage being simply smitten with you as he treads down a path of unrelenting obsession.
By the time Courage reaches the peak of his madness, he pretty much requires your affection to function. If he feels like he hasn’t received the normal amount of attention from you he’ll become paranoid and spiral inside his own mind, wondering if you’re tired of him.
But instead of confronting you about this, Courage falls back onto old habits and decides that this just means that he needs to prove himself worthy of your love! At the end of the day you may find him returning to camp with either an animal carcass or a token he scavenged from whatever beast he encountered while out.
All the while he has this expectant look on his face, like he’s waiting for you to praise him and give him a hug for all the hard work he did.
If you do, great! Now you have a blood covered, lovesick hero following you around for the remainder of the night(until you force him to go wash up). If you don’t, that’s fine, just don’t be surprised when his attempts to earn your praise become increasingly more outlandish and brutal.
Though, since he’s completely desperate for your approval, you shouldn’t keep him working too long cause it’ll really begin to show from how little he’s sleeping to the deranged muttering under his breath.
Overall, Courage at his best is like a lovesick puppy dog, always following your around in the hopes that you’ll give him some of your love, and at his worst he’s a desperate, deranged man willing to present his severed limbs to you if it’ll earn your affection.
Colin…didn't really expect an answer, he already knew.
Had seen the frustrated look on his father's face.
And Link, he had simply stood there silently.
When he wasn't found in the village, Colin always found him by the Ordon spring.
Sometimes with Epona, mostly alone. Link just stared into the crystal clear waters, never once looking away.
Colin observes Link's quiet and solemn routine by the entrance of the spring. As he watches, Colin notices something unusual - Link has a jug that belongs to his father, one that Colin had been warned against sipping from. Colin continues to watch Link from a distance, observing the way he silently drinks from the jug and stares into the clear waters.
Just another oddity in the growing list connected to the rancher.
For many days, Link had been behaving utterly odd.
Looking at everyone strangely, almost panicked, as if he no longer understood how to interact with any of them.
Everyone had been whispering about it, yet no one could figure out what caused him to suddenly change so much out of the blue.
Yet despite his strangeness, he still helped Colin's mother Uli, still patrolled alongside Colin's father Rusl. Still dealt with the goats and cared for Epona.
But it was almost…like he was simply going through the actions.
His body was moving but his eyes were empty. Even when he gave everyone a smile, it was crooked, like he didn't even have the energy to smile properly.
Colin watches as Link takes another swig from the jug, his eyes never leaving the reflective surface of the water. The typically cheerful rancher seems distant, lost in thought. Colin has never seen Link like this before, and it honestly makes him uneasy.
Despite his anxiety, Colin decides to approach Link, wondering what could be going on in the older boy's mind.
The sound of the water splashing against the shore and the distant bleating of the goats fills the air. Link doesn't seem to notice Colin's presence, instead continuing to gaze absently into the water. Colin approaches him from the side and looks at the jug of mead in Link's hands.
"He and mom were talking about you." He said quietly, sitting next to him, "I think he knows you've been taking his jug. They are worried."
Link turns to look at Colin, his eyes still clouded and distant. "I see," he says, his voice quiet and soft. He takes a long drink from the jug. He sets it down beside him, his gaze returning to the water.
Colin watches as Link takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts.
Colin, curious and worried about Link's distant behavior, gently asks, "Is there…something wrong, Link? You’ve been… different."
Link stays silent for what feels like an eternity to Colin, his gaze fixed on the water. Just as Colin is about to give up on getting an answer, "I'm just...tired, Colin." Link finally speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper, "Tired of...so much, tired of…losing…so much."
Link's words hang heavily in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable. Colin, still young and inexperienced, didn’t and couldn’t fully understand the depth of what Link is feeling. He looks up at Link, trying to process the words. "But you always win in the end, don't you?"
"This...isn't something I can win.."
Link's reply cuts through the air like a knife, his voice laced with a sadness that only those who have experienced great loss can truly understand. Colin looks up at Link, searching for some hint of the Link he has always known, the one who is brave, strong, and seeming to never falter when trouble was about.
Colin watched the person he saw as an older brother stare into the waters of the spring.
He looked so…lost…but it wasn't like he was searching for anything…
It was almost as if he had long given up when just some time ago he had been fine.
"Link…did you…lose something important?” Colin didn't really know why he said that. But it made sense, in a way.
He lost something, Colin didn't know what but it must have been so important that it made him like this.
Made him behave so strangely.
Link continues to stare into the water, his mind lost in thought. He seems far away, consumed by his own emotions. Colin's question hangs in the air, unanswered. Link's shoulders sag, as if the weight of the world is resting on them.
Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet and defeated.
"I don't know..."
Link's response only deepens the mystery surrounding his current state of mind. The warmth of the setting sun does little to dispel the chill that Colin now feels in the air.
"I don't…know if I lost anything…anyone…" Link continues unprompted, "I…think I did…I think I lost some…one..so..so precious…"
Colin's heart tightens as he hears the pain in Link's voice. He gazes at his older brother, trying to find the right words to say. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, at a loss.
"But I don't know if I lost anyone…and that scares me…" Link took another drink from the jug, "I think..I'd be happier if I had lost someone.."
"Why?" Colin couldn't help but ask.
"…Because it means they had to have existed for me to lose…"
Link's words hang heavy in the air, as Colin looks at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. The kind Hyrulean boy that Colin had always known seemed to have been replaced by a hollow, lost shell of his former self.
Colin takes a deep breath, searching for the right words to say. He wants to offer Link some encouragement, some glimmer of hope to hold onto. But as he opens his mouth, the gnawing silence seems to swallow his words before they can even leave his lips.
Because no matter how much he wanted to help, Colin was just a kid. A kid that didn't really understand what Link was talking about.
It all confused Colin just as much as it worried him.
Colin sits next to Link in silence, his heart heavy with concern. He tries to offer an apology, hoping it might bring some comfort to his brother. "I'm sorry I can't help you, Link," Colin says softly, his voice laced with sadness.
Link doesn’t look away from the waters. "It's alright, Colin," he says, his voice quiet and devoid of emotion. "I don't think anyone can help me with this." He takes another drink from the jug.
That just made Colin feel worse.
Eventually Colin glances up at the sky and notices that it has started to darken. Reluctantly, he accepts that it's time for him to return home.
He takes one last look at Link, who still sits at the edge of the spring, lost in his thoughts, like the weight of the world was seemingly on his shoulders.
Colin sighed heavily, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach as he turned and began to make his way back to the village.
And Link...
...simply took another swing from the jug, the ache in his chest gnawing within him that he knew wouldn't be filled.
He had lost everything that had become so dear to him...
He didn’t know if he ever had it to begin with…
And all he wanted to do was simply forget, if it meant an end to the horrible pain.
——
——
It was familiar enough.
The Bublins charging into the spring.
The force that sent him collapsing into the spring waters beneath him.
Uli’s tears and Rusl’s grave face.
The forceful tug into the Twilight.
The agony of his wolf form wrapping around him…
The cell and cuff that bound him in place…
That laughter…that mischievous grin…
At one time, he had longed to hear and see this all again. Longed for the mischievous smile and arrogant words spoken at him. so much so that it was as if he needed it like air.
But…
…
…Funny how what he once wanted so badly was now the very last thing he ever wanted to see.
He didn’t know how to feel about it…
—-
—-
Link gasps, collapsing to his knees, his sword stabbing into the ground in order to keep him upright.
“Why do you continue to fail?”
Link shakes his head, grimacing.
“I…I don’t…mean to…I-“
“You must confront that which you seek to deny, else it damns you to further loss…now..” The point of a blade was aimed at the hero.
“Again.”
“…Yes sir…”
—-
—-
“You have a renewed burden."
He chose not to reply to the fortune teller.
At the urging of Midna, who's curiosity over talk of someone who could see into the future had garnered her interest, he had gone to visit Madame Fanadi.
Personally he'd have simply gone to the next location needing his attention.
He didn't want to be here, he already knew what he needed to do.
"You are lost, blindingly wandering through a world of memories long since past." She continued, "Eyes open, but unseeing as you stumble along your unpaved path."
Madame Fanadi's words hang heavy in the air, her piercing gaze never leaving the Hero of Twilight.
"Bound by chains forged from your own guilt and regret." She says, her voice taking on a somber tone.
Link's eyes are focusing on a point beyond Madame Fanadi. He can feel Midna's gaze on him from within his shadow, but he doesn't acknowledge it.
"Your burden wishes to trap you," she continues, "It would consume you whole, if you let it."
"…And why shouldn't I let it?" The words left his lips before he registered that he even said it.
Madame Fanadi's gaze does not falter, as if she had expected this reaction. "There is hope, even in your darkest memories," she says gently. "You have a chance to break free from your burden and find redemption."
He scoffs. "Redemption?"
He doesn't deserve it. None of them did.
Damned to relive these days. Damned to question whether he was truly reliving them or simply following a pattern that was laid before him. Worse still to realize that it was possibly all a figment of his mind.
(If they all truly exist... he hopes they are suffering like he was…)
If his Goddess truly existed or not...
He hoped she never forgave them.
None of them were worthy of it.
Twilight's hands curl into fists in his lap, knuckles turning white.
He wasn’t worthy of it.
"You wish to be consumed by the pain, seeing no point in continuing on," she says. "It's eating away at you, consuming you from the inside. Most curious for a young man like yourself to hold such regret."
Twilight's eyes, still fixed on a point beyond the fortune teller, narrow.
Madame Fanadi continues to watch him, calm, patient. As if for her, the passing of time meant nothing. "You are burdened by memories, young hero," she says softly. "Memories that haunt you, memories that bring you pain. Or rather, it is someone within those memories."
Twilight tensed, his fists squeezing tighter.
"You want to look away, to run from these thoughts, but you know that you can't escape them."
"That's enough..." He tells her, his voice low.
"Tell me young man, do you believe if you ignore these regrets, that somehow you'll be free of the consequences you suffer?"
"I won’t hear anymore..."
"Those who fought beside you, the trust you hold for them in your heart, it is strong and bright despite the darkness swirling within." Madame Fanadi continued, "If they stood before you, would they not be suffering such agony as well?"
She tapped her chin, an almost sorrowful smile on her face.
"After all, are you not all guilty of the same regret?"
"Stop it!" Twilight was looking directly into the woman's eyes, his own shining with anger and warning.
Madame Fanadi does not flinch under the provoked man's gaze, but rather, she holds it, her smile never wavering. "You are trying to hide away from the truth you created, young hero," she says. "But you can only hide so long before that truth finds you."
"I'm leaving." He stands, uncaring that his seat is knocked over.
Madame Fanadi's smile doesn't falter as he stood up, her eyes following him. "Remember, young hero, the truth has a way of finding us all." She says this softly, almost like a whisper. The room feels suddenly colder, it would excuse the trembling of his shoulders, and the candles flicker as if in response to her words.
He storms towards the exit, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the room.
—
—-
He coughs, a dribble of spit escaping the corner of his mouth as he clutches his stomach.
“Had this been a true battle, you would have been cut down several strikes ago.”
“I-I’m so-“ a kick to his side sends him sprawling onto the ground once more.
“Don’t apologize. Improve.” Once more, the blade is pointed at him.
“Again.”
Link clenches his teeth, trembling with exertion as he reaches for his sword.
--
--
"What the hell was that Link?"
As he storms out of Fanadi's Palace, he hears Midna's voice calling out to him. She sounds concerned and a little frustrated, and Twilight knows that she wants him to explain what just happened.
He stays silent and continues to walk away from the building.
Midna, not used to being ignored, pesters him as he makes his way through and out the city.
Link stops in his tracks when they are a good distance away, looking down at Midna, who had appeared in front of him, with a mixture of annoyance and detachment.
"I didn't like what she was saying," he says, his gaze flickering away from Midna's.
Midna crosses her arms, her expression skeptical.
"Are you still worried over those kids?" She asks, sighing as if she figured out his problem already.
"They are safe in that village, that shaman seems to have a good head on his shoulders." She said.
Link's eyes narrow at Midna, shaking his head.
He wasn't going to bother correcting her assumptions.
What he suffers through happened long after she was gone.
...in his memories anyway.
"..I won't let things get in the way of what we're doing." He says quietly, looking away from her.
Midna frowned, eyeing him for a moment before returning to his shadow without another word.
Though he was not stupid to think that was the end of this conversation.
The wind rustles through the trees, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of chirping birds. The sky is a clear blue, with only a few wispy clouds visible. It's a peaceful scene, but Link's mind is anything but.
He closed his eyes, hoping the ambiance of the area would pull him into its peaceful embrace.
It was a fruitless effort of course, but it was better than suffering the ache in his chest.
—-
—-
“Again.”
“I’m TRYING!” He growls, grunting as he tiredly raises his blade to block the strike aimed toward him.
“Success must come after attempting, yet you seem to linger at the ‘attempting’ stage of learning.” A twist of a wrist and the rancher’s sword is knocked form his hand and clatters to the ground several feet away from him.
“Again.”
Link can only bite back the snarl that tried to escape him, his hands in tight fists as he steps towards his fallen blade.
--
--
Link kept a smile on his face when he arrived in Kakariko Village, keeping the troubles that plagued him from seeping through as Talo greeted him excitedly.
Beth was still with Colin and Malo had his store.
Humoring Talo's rambling as he walked though the village, he soon waved him off when he approached the inn.
Entering the room, Link can see that Colin is resting peacefully. Beth is sitting in a chair next to him, her head resting on the armrest as she dozes off.
The warmth and quietness of the room wrap around the Hero. Beth doesn't stir from her sleep, and Colin looks peaceful, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. The silence almost tricks him into relaxing into it's embrace, but his thoughts keep invading, making it difficult to truly relax. He takes a seat next to Beth, watching Colin closely.
Truthfully he had no interest in being here.
But he had no interest in speaking to Midna either.
It was either here or back in town, and the rancher wanted to be as far away from that fortune teller as possible.
Link carefully lays a spar blanket over Beth, tucking it around her shoulders to keep her warm. He then turns his attention back to Colin, not really looking at him, merely giving his eyes a point to focus on.
The silence in the inn is only broken by the soft snoring of Beth and the rhythmic breathing of Colin. Link's constant attempts to find solace in the peaceful atmosphere are in vain, as his thoughts keep drifting back to Midna and the unspoken tension between them.
He can feel her eyes on him, even from within his shadow, and he knows she's waiting for him to address the elephant in the room.
This version of her may not have known him as well as previously, but she had a keen eye when she so chose.
But he refused to speak to her about it.
He didn't even want to think about any of it.
As Link sits in the quiet inn, it's as if he's viewing the world through a foggy glass, unable to truly connect with it.
He...didn't want to be here.
He takes a slow deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth.
He doesn't want to do any of this again. (Didn’t want to contemplate if he was doing to all over again.)
All he wants is to wake up back at camp, to hear Wild (his mentee, his cub) humming as he finishes breakfast. To hear the others (pack, trusted) slowly awaken at the smell of fresh food.
To hear Her voice, rough with sleep, greet them good morning,
To be able to reach out and cup her cheek, to feel the joy as She sleepily nuzzles against it, trusting that he would never harm her. Seeing Her almost fall back to sleep before he softly calls Her name to keep her awake.
Link's thoughts are consumed by longing for a past that seemed to never truly have happened, for the companionship he once considered so important. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine himself back at camp with his friends. He can almost hear everyone's chatter as they prepare for the day, the smell of Wild's cooking.
He can almost feel the warmth of the morning sun on his face, hear the sound of the birds chirping in the trees. He remembers the way Her sleepy laughter would fill the air as she conversed with the others. He remembers the feeling of camaraderie, of belonging to something bigger than himself.
He remembers his pack and he misses them all so very much.
His sword brothers...he longed to stand before them once again.
To be able to walk up to them...reach out his arms...
( And strangle the utter life out of each one of them for daring to damn him to this horrible curs- )
He tenses when he hears Beth mumble something in her sleep, relaxing when she didn't saying anything else.
He focused on some deep slow breath. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears.
He wants to lash out in some way, but he knows he can't let himself get carried away by his anger. He takes a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his mind.
As he opens his eyes, he notices Beth stirring in her sleep again. He watches her for a moment, listening to her soft breathing. He can't help but feel a twinge of envy towards her.
Link's gaze remains fixed on Beth, studying her peaceful expression as she sleeps. He can't help but think about how carefree and untroubled she looks, free from the burdens and responsibilities that weigh on his own shoulders. The envy he feels turns into a pang of sadness, and his heart feels heavy in his chest.
'Was it so wrong to want to stand by her side?' He mouthed silently to himself.
He doesn't want what he remembers to be a dream. He didn't want to think that the love he gained for such an incredible person to have been all for nothing.
He just wants to go back to his pack, back to Her.
(Even if his pack would damn him to suffer this cruelt-)
He ran both his hands through hair, letting one drop while the other kept a grip on his head.
He didn't want to do any of this! He didn't want to do this! Again or not! He simply wanted this journey far away from his present. To become a long done memory already.
Was he cursed to relive this path over and over?
Would a chance at life beyond the hero title be a failed dream?
He just wanted someone to tell him...
'..Is there an ending to all this?' He whispered to himself, it felt like it echoed in the silence of the room.
—
—
"...just kill me..."
Link's voice is barely above a whisper, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The Shade's sword remains at his neck, the weight of it a reminder of his mortality. The ghostly swordsman studies Link.
"Please…I rather die believing in the illusion my mind showed me, than live long enough to find it was all a lie."
The Shade's gaze lingers on Link for a moment longer, then he slowly withdraws his sword, sheathing it with a soft hiss. "I will not grant you such a release," he says into the silence.
"The strength of your heart…has disappointed me. "
Link stays silent, not meeting the Shade's gaze yet feeling the weight of it.
He feels empty…
He feels defeated.
—
—
When Midna finally manages to confront him, it's as sudden and as ferocious as he always expected her to be.
Link could feel the air escape his lungs as the Twili's versatile orange hair slammed him against the dungeon floor.
"You're not avoiding this any longer you goat-wrangling mutt!" She hissed, Twili magic crackling around her. "You better tell me what's been going on with you or I'll make you."
Midna's eyes glow with a fierce determination as she pins Link against the floor. Her hair holding him in place. Link struggles to breathe, caught off guard by Midna's sudden attack. He can feel the heat of her anger and the intensity of her gaze.
"I've tried to give you space," Midna said, hands clenched.
"But you've been avoiding even talking to me, and I won't stand for it any longer. You will tell me what's been going on with you, or I will force it out of you."
The air is thick with tension as Link struggles to break free from Midna's grasp.
"One hell of a time to corner me like this." He grunts, not bothering to struggle. He knew no amount of struggling to free him from her grasp.
"I thought you wanted me to keep moving?" He asks, trying to buy some time to gather his thoughts. Midna's sudden aggression had taken him by surprise, and he's still reeling from his own inner turmoil.
Midna's grip on Link tightens, and her eyes narrow. "I did," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "But you've been doing a rather good job keeping me from asking you anything, and I can't stand it any longer."
"Well maybe just keep out of my business and you'll spare yourself the frustration." He glares at her, but Midna's gaze doesn't waver. Instead, her eyes seem to bore into him, searching for the truth. Link feels a shiver run down his spine as he realizes that she won't let go.
"What is wrong with you?" He growls at her, "I have done everything you wanted since you freed me from that cell. Is asking for some privacy in regards to my own life that difficult for you to accept?"
"Not when it ends with you lashing out!" She snaps back, her grip on him tightening even more. Link winces as she presses down on him for a moment.
"You nearly attacked that one drunk guy in castle town!"
"He wouldn't leave me alone." Was all he said.
"All he said was That he'd feel sorry for whatever girl decides to fall for a, oh what was it he said? 'Grumpy country bumpkin.'? Something about how that girl would just have her heart broken."
"Wouldn't be the first time I've been called that." He answered, though the people who called him that were trusted friends.
"Oh? So you decided to nearly yank his arm from his shoulder socket because he just wouldn't stop talking?"
He didn't care if that stupid drunk rambled on like he had.
But to say whoever gave their heart to him would suffer heartbreak...
(Was he that terrible of choice for a life partner? A husband? A mate? Is that why he hurt-)
"Nothing he said was worth focusing on."
"And those knights! You snarled at them when they made a stupid joke! SNARLED!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up when she saw his stubborn expression. "You looked like the very wolf you can change into. They ran without wasting a second!”
"The knights of Castle town are worthless and cowardly." He growled, a hand coming up to grab part of her hair. "They don’t dare approach me if I was in my beast form, it genuinely makes me wonder how they’d handle an actual war?"
Midna's eyes narrowed even further. "You can't go around attacking people. You're supposed to be a hero aren't you? Not some brute."
"Oh?" He asks, a faux look of curiosity on his face. "Would me being a brute go against your goals?"
"Now you're going after me?" She scoffs, crossing her arms and legs as she stares down at him.
"You were always strange since we met, but ever since you spoke to that fortune teller, you've been completely out of line."
"Simply because you're making assumptions about my situation-"
"Because you never talk to me!"
"Well maybe it's because I don't WANT to talk to you! Have you ever thought of THAT?" He spat at her, struggling for the first time since being pinned to the floor.
"You-"
"I've done EVERYTHING you wanted me to do! EVERYTHING. I have not made a SINGLE complaint since you saved me from the cell! Not one! I think I have been a rather good 'servant' don't you think?"
He clenched his hands into tight fists.
"But it seems no matter what I do. I'm NEVER good enough for you. For ANYONE." He shakes his head, his face twisting in pain.
"Was what I've done so bad that I have to be cursed like this? To be forced to live through it all over again? To question what’s true or fabricated in my mind?!?”
"Link-"
"I didn't mean to!" He shouts, his voice cracking.
"I-I...I just.." Wanted to be by Her side…
That's all he wanted. He wanted to be with Her. Hold Her. Kiss Her.
To be granted the honor of being called her partner, perhaps even her everything.
Wanted to never let her out of his sight again. To take her somewhere far away and start a life with just the two of them.
"What do I have to do to fix this?" He whispers, his head bowed.
'Link, focus-"
"WHO DO I HAVE TO KILL IN ORDER TO WAKE UO FROM THIS DAMNED NIGHTMARE!!" He roars at her. Midna actually rears back at the unhinged look overtaking his face.
“Hey! Watch it!”
Link's words hang heavy in the air, and Midna watches as he struggles against her grip, his eyes blazing with...something..
"Let go of me," He growls, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean it Midna. Let. Go."
Midna stays silent, hesitation flickering in her eye.
Something was wrong. This was not how she expected this to go.
She watches as he struggles against her grip, his eyes blazing with an intensity that makes her want to keep him pinned down until whatever was happening was over.
"Link, focus," Midna tries to interject, but he talks over her.
"Let go of me..."
"Link, I-" she starts, but he cuts her off.
"I said let go," he repeats.
"Damnit, you’re not ok!" She says, refusing to let him go.
She didn't know WHAT he would do if she did.
"Let go of me Midna..."
"What'll happen if I do?"
"Let me go.." He brings his head up and lets the back of it hit the floor beneath him.
Midna watches as Link's head hits the floor, wincing at the sound of impact.
“Heheh…” He begins to laugh, it was not pleasant to hear, “Do I have to wake myself up? Is that how I'll return? Am I too stubborn to wake up?”
That look in his eyes, he's not in his right mind. She tightens her hold on him.
"Link. You're not thinking straight. You need to calm down." She says firmly, trying to reason with him.
He brings his head up, only to hit it against the floor again, harder.
“I need to wake up…they’re waiting for me…”
The sound of Link's head hitting the floor echoes through the wide space, and Midna can't help but feel a sense of alarm. She tightens her grip on him, trying to keep him still and prevent him from hurting himself any further.
"Link, stop it!" She commands, her voice firm and authoritative.
"I need to wake up..." His voice sounds fragile, trembling as he brings his head up as best as he could and to slam it back down against the floor. “She’s unprotected…we have to protect her…”
(He couldn’t lose her again. He simply couldn’t.)
Midna watches in horror as Link continues to bang his head against the floor, each impact causing the sound of his head hitting the hard surface to echo in the open space. The scent of blood making it's appearance.
"I need to wake up.." he repeats, desperate, as if he were on the verge of tears.
His mind overwhelmed by everything he'd be desperately pushing away since he awoke back in Ordon.
He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to return to his pack. He wanted to return to (y/n).
He wanted this all to be a horrible dream.
Midna, completely out of her depth, lifts Link away from the floor, the back of his head leaving a splatter of blood on the rough surface.
She slams him back down, causing the air to escape his lungs.
"I'm sorry Link," she says, not giving him a chance to register what's happening as she releases him and turns her hair into a fist. "But you need to calm down!"
Link has just a moment to register what she said as her fist collides with the side of his face.
Midna breathes a sigh of relief as Link's body goes slack, her makeshift fist leaving a rather large red mark on his cheek.
..What the hell…
She knows that she had to do something to stop him from hurting himself, but that didn't help the twinge of guilt after hitting him. She floats down close to him, brushing his bangs out of his eyes after a few moments, checking to make sure that he's still breathing.
The dungeon is dimly lit, with faint light from outside barely illuminating the cold, stone walls. The air is thick with dust and the smell of dampness, and the noticeable sound was the distant drip of water. Link's unconscious form lies sprawled on the cold, wet. hard ground, his breathing slow and steady. Midna hovers over him, her expression a mix of concern and guilt.
"..What made you go crazy like this?" She mutters, unsure what to do.
What a situation she landed herself in.
Stuck in a damp dungeon with an unconscious frenzied hero.
...
(Maybe she should have chosen a better spot to talk to him.)
…
…
“This sucks..”
—
—
"Again.”
"What do you WANT?" Link shouts at him, his chest heaving from the exertion.
A single red glowing eye looks at him. "Your resolve has weakened to an absurd degree," he says. "You limit yourself to the boundaries that others have placed on you."
He stares up at him, panting and covered in sweat. " I have done no such thing." He protested. "I am doing everything I can."
The Shade shakes his head. "You are holding yourself back."
"No I'm not!"
"Still such a child. Denying a truth that is always dogging your footsteps."
"You aren't even HERE!" He screams, having finally reached his limit with the shade.
The shade said nothing.
"This is all some fucked up dream! The real you doesn’t even recognize me!! You think I wouldn’t figure this out? That I wouldn’t be able to see through this whole thing?!? What's the point, what’s the fucking purpose of my mind placing the illusion of you before me?!? To mock me?? To constantly remind me of something that possibly didn’t happen?"
"I may be an illusion...but your guilt isn't."
"This is ridiculous," He sits up, his teeth bared at the spirit. "I’ve denied nothing!"
"You are troubled. It clouds your heart."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but you aren't the first to point that out."
The Hero's Shade stood a few feet from him, sword held away as he watched Link.
The Shade's gaze is intense, scrutinizing Link as he rises to a sitting position. The air around him feels heavy, almost suffocating, as if the weight of his troubles is a physical entity. Link can't help but feel a little vulnerable under the Shade's gaze, the numbness that has become all too familiar to him serving as a constant reminder of his burden.
"I won't let it get in the way of learning what you teach me." The rancher replies in a monotone manner.
“Each time you appear before me, your resolve weakens further." The Shade says, his voice deeper, rougher than the rancher remembered.
Then again, he spent a considerable amount of time with his more...'livelier’ self...so the young hero supposed things would have changed during the decades after.
(Though...the Shade should have recognized him...shouldn't he? Yet he didn’t… Did that mean that everything truly was-)
Link shook away those thoughts.
"Though that does not distract me from your current failure to focus." He steps closer to Link, slowly walking around him.
"You’re weaker than you should be, yet still so disappointing. I’m surprised you have not been struck down by a Bublin yet due to your carelessness." Link grit his teeth, that was not a question.
"I am...as strong as you need me to be.."
"As I need you to be? So…you would allow another to determine your overall strength? You would cease to grow simply because another held your leash and brought you to heel?"
Link glared up at him, but of course, the Shade was entirely unfazed.
The Hero's Shade continues to circle around Link, his intense gaze never leaving the young hero. The weight of his gaze is almost unbearable, and Link can feel himself reflexively shrinking under the pressure.
When he stands in front of Link once again, he points his sword at him.
"Raise your sword." Was all he said to him.
The Shade's sword gleams in the light of this realm. Link tightens his grip on his own weapon, meeting his gaze. He lifts his sword as he stands, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
The Shade begins to circle him once more, this time Link matching his movements.
"Now, attack." He commands. The young hero takes a deep breath and lunges forward, sword swinging through the air.
The Hero's Shade watches intently as Link attacks, it takes not even a few moves before Link is tossed to the ground.
"Again," he says, his voice stern. Link obliges, rising up and lunging and swinging his sword once more.
This time, the Shade raises his own weapon to block, the clash of metal on metal echoing in the air. "Again," he repeats as Link is once more knocked down.
Once more he rises, only to be defeated again. The Shade remains unmoved.
Link's movements become more sloppy with each loss. Frustration taking over more and more, but the Shade remains relentless, silently commanding him to raise his sword each time.
Link loathes the sound of his sword constantly clattering to the ground. An indication of his constant failure.
An indication that he was weak.
…weak…
…
No…
Nononono..
He couldn't afford to be weak.
No. Never.
Not when being weak means losing what matters.
Not when it means he could lose- he couldn't lose everything else!
He already lost his pack! Every one of them! He can't-
His reacted before he really registered the noise, rearing his head back in surprise, dodging the sword swipe.
"What are you doing?!?”
"You are rejecting the truth and it’s hindering you." The Shade says, his voice echoing ominously. "I wonder, how many will you abandon as you run away?"
"I have never abandoned anyone!" He exclaims as he dodges swipe after swipe.
"Foolish enough to release your sword in front of an opponent. Foolish enough to deny the truths that dig themselves into your very being. Foolish enough to be led on by others like some obedient beast."
"What point is there to gain strength when I've lost everything already?!?"
The Hero's Shade does not pause his attacks, but does look at Link with a contemplative expression. "Strength is not just for protecting others," he says. "It is also for protecting yourself. So that you do not continue to lose what matters to you."
"But I've already lost everything that I wanted to protect!" Link dives under a swing and rolls behind the Spirit, reaching out to grab his sword.
But before he could get close, he stills, the cold touch of the Shade's sword pressed against his neck.
"And it is your fault.”
The declaration was firm, weighted, Link could feel the chill of the blade against his skin.
The Shade's voice is low and accusatory, Link could feel the chill of the blade against his skin.
He should argued his point, said something to get his predecessor to stop.
But the young hero just couldn't take it anymore.
"It wasn't my fault!!" Link screams, his voice echoing through the training grounds. Tears well up in his eyes as he pushes the blade away with his hand, uncaring of the sharp pain it brought, his body trembling with emotion.
"I didn't mean for any of it to happen!" he repeats, his voice desperate, almost pleading. "I just wanted to keep her safe! I just wanted her to stay with us!" With me.
"You would lay the fault of your sins on your desire to protect? When you would endanger the one you sought to protect?"
"None of us would ever hurt her." He hisses at spirit, "Not even death would be enough of a punishment suffered for such a crime."
How many had he willingly killed for daring to threaten her safety?
Those disgusting creatures that took the forms of man. Daring to gaze upon her beauty and attempt to stake a claim.
A claim. As if she were an item to be bought.
Not even as he made them choke on their blood, as he wrapped his hands around their bruised necks, did the rage boiling through his veins calm.
"You believe that you have done what was necessary to protect her," he says, his voice softer now. "But have you considered the cost? "
Link's eyes flash with anger and defiance. "Yes," he growls. "A thousand times, yes."
The lives he's taken, the pain he caused upon those unworthy fools- it was all worth it to keep her safe.
The Shade's gaze pierces through Link, as if trying to read his very soul. "You believe that the ends justify the means," he says, his voice filled with a strange tone of somber wisdom. "But have you considered that the means themselves may taint the end?"
Link's heart races, but he stands his ground. "I have done what I had to do," he insists. "I would do it again if it meant keeping her safe."
Keep her away from those who would harm.
Keep her nice and safe. With them. With him.
"Even if it meant being the cause of Her tears?"
"...I.."
Link's mind reels as the Hero's Shade challenges him. The thought of (y/n)'s tears, caused by his own hand, is almost too much to bear.
"I-I never would never want to hurt her," he stammers, his voice filled with trembling in growing panic and despair.
The Hero's Shade studies Link intently, seeing the pain and fear in the young hero's eyes. "You say you would never wish to harm her," he says . "But sometimes, actions have consequences that cannot be foreseen.”
Link's heart races.
"You, and those who stood beside you. You all are the reason she was lost."
Link's shaking his head, The Hero's Shade's words cut deep, and Link struggles to maintain his composure. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "I don't believe that," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I won't believe that."
"Still you deny the truth.." The Hero's Shade continues, shaking his head, "You grew arrogant, drunk on the delusion that you knew what was best for her. Convinced your strength was enough to fight back the world. But in doing so, you overlooked the consequences of your actions. You caused her pain, and ultimately, you lost her."
Link's heart feels heavy, each word the Shade speaks weighing down on him.
The Hero's Shade's words hang heavy in the air, and Link can't help but feel the weight of their truth. He thinks back to the moments leading up to (y/n)'s disappearance, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where he may have gone wrong.
His mind races as he replayed the memories, his heart aching with every image of (y/n)'s strained smiles. The exhaustion that settled around her.
Had he truly been so blind..?
"No..." he whispers, "No..I didn't...I didn't mean to.."
"It is not my place to judge you, that duty goes to the one you harmed," he says, "I only aim to teach. To help you understand the weight of your actions. Perhaps that is the reason that your mind created my image before you.”
Link looks up, meeting the Shade's gaze. He wants to argue, to defend himself, but he can't bring himself to speak.
Link feels a lump form in his throat. He looks away, unable to meet the Shade's penetrating gaze any longer. The Shade's tone had been calm and measured, devoid of any emotion, yet his words are like a dagger to Link's heart.
"The arrogance and narrow-mindedness of you and yours had blinded you all to the true needs and desires of (y/n). It was not your place to dictate her choices, but to support her regardless of what path she follows."
Link says nothing, tears falling down his cheeks.
“No matter how far you run, you could never escape the truth. Because you refuse to forget.”
His tears fall to the ground, his eyes clenched shut.
"...Cub.." He tensed, hearing the nickname only his mentor called him.
Link slowly looked up, tears still falling. His breath caught in his throat as he looked into a familiar face.
Once decayed and ghostly, his mentor now stood before him in all his familiar glory. His face immediately brings a wave of memories crashing down on him. Of brotherhood.
Of trust.
"...T..ime..?" The Hero of Time stared down at him, looking as alive as in his memories.
"Rise and grow strong Cub." He said, an aura of calm surrounding him, holding out Twilight's sword. “Rebuild your shattered resolve.”
"Become a Sword worthy of serving our Goddess..."
Twilight reaches out, taking his sword from his outstretched hand.
As he wraps his trembling hand around the hilt, as he did, he felt a surge of energy pulsing through him.
The last thing he saw before his vision became white, was his mentor watching him calmly.
--
--
.
.
.
The side of his face hurt as his senses returned to him.
Opening his eyes, he immediately shuts them with a hiss from the brightness hitting them.
"Hmph, finally awake are we?"
As he slowly opens his eyes again, shielding them from the light, he sees Midna, her impish face looking at him with a mix of masked concern, annoyance, and weariness.
"Took you long enough," she huffs,. "Here I thought I was gonna have to finish my business all on my lonesome before you chose to wake up."
He finds himself lying on his back, the ground beneath him feeling hard and unfamiliar. His head throbs with a dull pain, and he instinctively reaches up to touch the side of his face, wincing at the tenderness.
As he touches his face, his fingers probe a tender area near his temple. It feels swollen and bruised. He sits up slowly, trying to ignore the spinning sensation that threatens to overwhelm him Midna's face comes into focus as he blinks against the, to him, harsh light.
"What happened?" He ask once his head settled a bit. His voice hoarse.
Midna's impish features twist into a bitter smirk.
"What happened?” Midna repeats his question, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, let's see. You lost conscious, curtesy of me thank you, after your little breakdown earlier." She pauses, letting her words sink in. "I had to drag your sorry butt all the way to this pretty spot."
He look around, trying to get his bearings.
The torchlight flickers off the stone walls, creating an eerie atmosphere. As Link take in his surroundings, Midna's voice breaks the silence.
"Seriously, what was that back there?" Midna asks. "You scared the crap out of me, you know?"
Link turns to face Midna, his expression conflicted. "I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice still hoarse. "I…don't know what came over me."
"I'll say, you went crazy!"
Midna crosses her arms, her smirk faltering slightly as she studies Link. "You really don't remember?" she asks, her tone softer but no less annoyed now. "You were ranting and raving about some girl and waking up... it was so sudden."
Link furrows his brow, trying to recall what happened before he lost consciousness, all he remembred was this sense of everything becoming...too much.
Link sighs, rubbing his forehead. To think he'd breakdown like that.
He really had been running from it all.
"You were mumbling something about 'her' not being real, and 'waking up'." She crossed her arms, " Do those words mean anything to you?"
He tenses, Midna could tell he was trying to come up with something to say.
“Safe to say, they mean something to you.” She huffs.
Link stays silent for a few moments, deep in thought. The dim light of the torch illuminates his face, highlighting the conflict and anxiety etched into his features. He then shakes his head, letting out a sigh.
"...I made a mistake," he admits slowly, his voice still hoarse. "It...hurt someone very precious to me."
"Oh?" Midna floated closer to him, "What'd you do so bad that it made you like THAT?"
Link opened his mouth but closed it a moment after, looking away.
The room grows quiet once more, save for the crackling of the torches. Link's eyes lower to the ground, reflecting the guilt and regret he feels. Midna, sensing his discomfort, waits patiently for him to continue. After a few moments, Link finally speaks up, still looking away.
"I hurt her," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "We all did..."
"..'We'?"
He shakes his head, his mouth in a firm line.
Midna's eyes narrow, trying to make sense of Link's words. She cocks her head to the side, studying him carefully. "Alright, so you hurt someone you care about. But who's 'we'?"
Link's grip tightens around his phantom sword, his jaw setting. He doesn't look at Midna, instead focusing on a distant point on the floor. "It's not important right now."
Link's response only serves to pique Midna's curiosity further. She can tell that he's holding something back, but she doesn't want to push him too hard and risk shutting him down entirely.
Or worse, go crazy again.
Instead, she decides to change tactics.
"Fine, keep your secrets," she says with a shrug.
There was a moment of silence.
“. . .So did you mean to do it?”
“…H-Huh?” Midna tsk’d.
“Did you. Mean to. Hurt your friend?” Link took a moment to register what she asked.
“No…no I would never…” he whispered, the Twili could see his already pale skin turn a few shades whiter.
“Well that response at least means you got part 1 down of mending things right.” She rolled her eyes at his look.
“Let me tell you something, Link. You're not the only one who's made mistakes."
Midna's words hang heavy in the air, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room. Link continues to gaze at the floor, lost in thought. The torchlight flickers across his face, casting deep shadows that seem to reflect the turmoil in his heart.
"I know," he says softly, his voice filled with pain. "But this was different. For me. For us all. The results-She-we…we didn't..."
Midna sighs, she can tell that he's not ready to open up about it. After another few moments of silence, Midna breaks the tension again.
"Alright, I get it. You don't want to talk about it right now." She straightened up and put her hand on her hip as she floats closer to him. "But you clearly don't have the means or time to even try to fix whatever it is that's happening with you."
He looked at her with tired eyes, and she frowned.
"If it were me who hurt someone I cared about..." she tapped her chin, "and I had no choice BUT to hold off on making amends...I'd at least take the time and accept that I did something wrong."
Link sent her a questioning looking and she huffed at him.
"Well how many times have you heard someone apologize but never bothered to understand what they did wrong? Apologizing is great but it means squat if you didn't bother to figure out WHY you're in the dog house...pun intended."
Midna's words seem to strike a chord with Link, who looks up at her with a slightly more alert expression. She can see the gears turning in his head as he considers her words. After a few moments, he nods slowly, remaining silent as he absorbs her words.
"Great, you finally realize a fact about yourself, “ she raises her hands up and shakes them in a Ta-da motion, “Congratulations, you’re a flawed creature.”
He blinks slowly at her, making her sigh again.
“So, if you're not gonna have a meltdown any time soon, let's get this place over with." She says, clapping her hands once and floating over to his sword and shield.
He remained seated, eyes following her before shortly getting up.
The rest of the dungeon was rather quiet compared to what he remembered, words only spoken when absolutely necessary.
. . . He didn't know how to feel about it.
—-
—
The shade did not appear in his dreams anymore.
A part of him felt relieved…to no longer be stared down by a visage of his mentor…
Another part of him mourned the only other person who knew everything he hid.
Even if that person was simply a construct his mind created…
…(perhaps it was for the best…)
—
—
He knew he should have at least announce his departure, instead of leaving a vague note on the entrance to his home.
Link knew he would worry Colin and his family. Knew Rusl would ask around for him, only for frustration to build when no one would know where Link was.
But he simply couldn’t take it anymore
Everything was too much and too little.
There was no journey to distract him anymore, no danger for him to defeat.
No princess of Twilight to yank his attention away from his thoughts from the moment she spoke.
What did it say about who he had become? That staring down at the corpse of Ganon, the very person who caused so much damage to the land, made Link feel nothing but disappointment.
Midna was gone now. He hadn’t realized how much he had depended on her presence to keep him grounded.
The land was safe once more. The people of Ordon were reunited once again.
Returning to Ordon, returning to that small world that once had been so big to him.
All he wanted to do was escape it.
It had all become too much. All so very much.
Everyone knew it. No one said anything but the rancher could tell. Could see their gazes, hated it no matter how well-meaning they were.
Their voices, once so soothing, irked him to the point that he wanted to tear off his own ears just for total silence.
If not his ears, then their very tongues.
He probably would have been horrified by his thoughts, had he been who he once was.
Even now it caused him pain. He didn’t want to look at them and feel anger.
It pained him. (It scared him.)
It was only when he numbly contemplated harm towards the villagers that he knew he had to leave.
He had to get out as quickly as he possibly could. Least he gives in to those overwhelming thoughts.
(And a part of him feared their reaction, should he breakdown in front of them just as he had done in front of Midna.)
So he left. Quietly during the early hours, long before the sun had even begin to rise.
A quick glance through his supplies and a gentle pat to sooth Epona and he was off.
He knows he’ll make everyone worry. A dull sense of guilt pulsing in his chest. But it was pushed down by the sense of ‘far too much’ within him.
All he could do was pray that wherever the path led him next, it would bring some sort of relief.
Perhaps he would return home with a stronger resolve. Perhaps he could find peace.
Perhaps…he could return with a smile that wasn’t on the verge of tearing itself apart…
Me re-reading this knowing damn well I was the one who beta read it:
But seriously I really appreciate how Twilight’s story ends in such a different way than the others, while the boys up until now have found determination or closure or some kind of acceptance, Twilight just…doesn’t, his arc doesn’t conclude with his journey.
It would be interesting to see how he grows after the portals appear again and he finally gets the confirmation that everything was real. The arc between the portals appearing and being reunited with (y/n) is something that doesn’t get focused on, but it actually has a lot of potential when you think about it.
Sky is, without a doubt, a hopeless romantic when he’s in love. We’ve seen him swoon and sigh dreamily when thinking about his loved one, he’s THAT kind of lover boy. Naturally, when adding a layer of insanity tinged love sickness to that adoration, he’s prone to becoming very affectionate.
Unless you are as dense as a rock, it will be no secret that the Hero of the Skies is head over heels in love with you. He basically has heart shaped pupils whenever he looks at you, cartoon heart bubbles magically appear around his head when in your vicinity and his face turns so red you’d think he had a high fever.
Sky is a devout yandere, obsessive in every way, shape and form, and protective to a fault. Even when not around you, you occupy his thoughts and daydreams to the point where it seems like he’s never not thinking about you.
He’s got a masters degree in yearning from Pining University.
And while he hasn’t lost that many people like some of the other mentally unstable chosen ones in the Chain(namely Wild and Legend), the fear of losing them is very real to him. He’s known the blood chilling terror of being a few steps too slow and a few minutes too late with the only thought in his head being “what did I do wrong?”
Following the conclusion of his first and only journey, Sky has come to accept that he made his mistakes and that he must move on in order to grow, but that doesn’t stop him from taking those lessons to heart when falling in love with you.
We’ve seen multiple times throughout the various installments that one of Sky’s favorite hobbies is playing his lyre. It’s a simple pleasure he indulges in whenever they have a moment of peace and the sound never fails to remind him of his home. But he’s found another reason to love it and that is the attention you end up giving him whenever he plays a song.
He isn’t the best musician in the group, but there’s no denying that the simple melodies he strings together are pleasing to the ears, so it’s no wonder you’d take the time to sit down, listen, and compliment him.
Sky doesn’t see it like that, though.
In his deluded, love hazy mind, all that registers is that you’re there giving him your attention and your praise; two things worth more than gold in his eyes. He’s like a drug addict who just got hit with another dosage. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it so hard it would thump against the log he’s sitting on, so he better consider himself lucky that Twilight is the dog of the group.
Though, if would please you, he’d willingly let you collar and leash him. Tell him to sit and roll over, he’ll do it on command without any shame whatsoever. He’ll even walk around on all fours if you want!-
Anyways-
THIS! 👏 MF! 👏 STEALS! 👏 FROM! 👏 YOU! 👏
I mean, technically it isn’t for long, he won’t permanently take something that belongs to you without ever giving it back(in secret so you never find out it was him), but he WILL swipe something of yours from time to time. Most commonly he’ll take a tunic or shirt from you, something you won’t immediately notice is gone.
When he has a moment of privacy, he’ll take out his little treasure and press it against his face, taking in a deeeeeep breath, and sighing lovingly. He’s got it bad for you and he knows it. If he could he’d use your tunic as a pillowcase whenever he went to sleep, but there’s no way he wouldn’t get caught.
Despite all this sugary sweetness, Sky isn’t solely a soft and gentle boy. If he is provoked, or if you’re being bothered, Sky doesn’t hesitate to step up and glare down the nuisance, all the while keeping a calm smile stretched across his face. This is where his surprisingly deep voice comes in handy, people aren’t expecting a voice like his to come from such a soft face.
Out of all the members of the Chain, I actually think that Sky would be one of the most patient when it comes to people trying to mess with them or you respectively; he’s dealt with Groose’s bullying for a few years, I think he’s a natural at letting nasty comment slide right off him like water off a duck’s back.
However, even then his patience is dangerously thin regarding people. If provoked he won’t hesitate to begin plotting the fool’s demise, whether it be a swift cut to the jugular or a slow, agonizing demise is up to the person in question.
And finally, just a hint, do not try to run from him, it won’t work.
If Fi’s ability to dowse objects and seek them out is based on Sky’s own desire to find them, then if you were to try and run away, he’d be able to track you right down to the exact spot you’re standing in. Because there is nothing and no one alive that Sky wants and needs more than you.
Hide in the woods, in a cave, in a dungeon, in a mountain, it doesn’t matter. He will hunt you down, find you, and drag you back home in his loving, suffocating embrace.
For @eternadreeblissa I wanted to draw Ava Rosamaryllis, she’s really pretty. I loved looking through eternadreeblissa’s art, and just felt inspired.
Some little extras: from left —> right, Yuune(yep love to add her places), yanderelinkeduniverse’s (Y/N), and of course the lovely Ava. They’re wearing outfits inspired by my Pinterest broad.
Its an honor to think I inspired you 😭😭 OMIIIIII SHE LOOKS SO CUTE AND PRECIOUS!! ALSO, THE GOODIES UNDER READ MORE MMMM
I was so pleasantly surprised to see yandy's Y/N! @yanderelinkeduniverse can u drop your Y/N's name reveal at this point? At least just to give her a proper name than just 'yandy's Y/N' X'DD If youre up for it anyway KSUBFHGBTHHJ
REGARDLESS THO THE ACCESSORIES WERE DETAILED! Yandy's Y/N looks precious as well, and your OC's cute too!!
OMG THANK YOU THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD. I adore the way you colored these, it reminds me of water color, and the little symbols in their eyes are so sweet!
Your girl Yuune looks great too! I especially love her hair cause I’m a sucker for characters with long front hair with short back hair, it’s why I like Lumine so much in Genshin for example.
But yeah THIS IS SO SWEET THANK YOU
You’ve all been doing great making content and putting your ideas onto paper, I don’t feel worthy to be included in these things. But seeing you all having fun inspires me to work too! I’ve got so many incomplete ideas and promises that need to be fulfilled, you all deserve something nice for a change!
Anyways thank you so much once again, your art is truly amazing!
Merry Christmas y’all, and to anyone who doesn’t celebrate have a great time anyways! I’ve been in a writer’s slump lately, but I want to get done with something important soon so hopefully y’all will see what I’ve been working on before next year!
Apparently, I am severely lacking in the ability to take care of myself. I have been told to ‘do better’ with encouraging myself to do shit. So, naturally, I’m apparently gonna turn to y’all.
Let’s see if this works.
For every 100 notes (because I already feel I know who tf is following me and likely gonna see this) I will do a real self-care (now that I know what that means)
finally done with it, and my self care was cooking my favorite recipe!!!
no pressure tags, but also, show yourself some love <333
@yourlocaltreesimp @wayfayrr @shoobirino @lost4pandora @angry-trashcan @lilac-and-daydreams @suniix @trippygalaxy @trulytiredhermit @fanfic-fairy-fountain @neverchecking @dreaming-of-lu @pinkalmondcake @the-cucco-nuggie @glowy-skull @triplecatattack and sorry for all of you that i tagged ad barely speak with, but y'all deserve it.
Hey hey folks! yes yes i know what you're thinking.
'But Gliphy! it's only been a few days since your last post! Is the world ending?'
And I agree! Buuuut I decided to throw something out there, a change of pace so to speak!
I present: TTAU Side stories! Or Side Stories in general.
The chain are still my main cast for stories. Most things will be written around them.
But, due to certain inquiries, a few characters were requested to be written~ Will that automatically mean I'll start posting a barrage of stuff for the side stories? Eh, probably only when inspiration hits me.
But I decided to have fun with dropping in characters from time to time.
For now, it's gonna be one character that a few people has asked for.
Will I do them justice? Dunno! I'll leave that to you lovely folk~
Anywho~
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The stench of blood was very potent here, enough to make his nose crinkle the moment he stepped into the area.
The soldier guiding Link gave his report as he led him through the mountain pass.
"This is the place." He said, gesturing to the entrance of an easily overlooked cave, his helmet tilted back to show his face. "We managed to lead him through here. Once he went through, the others distracted him while I sealed off the opening as best as I could."
The soldier stopped before the cave opening leading inside. There were crates and broken carriages turned on their side blocking the entrance.
Link eyed everything. "Impressive for one man. Though if what you said was true, blocking the path like this wouldn't have slowed him down."
The soldier sighed. "He seemed too focused attacking the nearest soldiers, I did what I could to escape and seal it off."
Warriors' eyes narrowed but said nothing of the soldier's careless admission.
"Very well, you and I will enter to confront him." Link folded his arms over his chest and gave the soldier a look when he opened his mouth.
"In the event that a battle occurs, I'll need you to be near so you can bring a detailed report back to base." The soldier thought it over and nodded.
"...Right then."
Without further ado, Link and the Soldier pushed as much of the crates out of the way and made their way in.
The cave was dark, darkening further since dusk approached. Even after stepping several feet inside there wasn't much light, it took a several minutes for his eyes to adjust.
They made their way carefully down the narrow tunnel.
...Warriors was uncertain about this situation.
While his memories of his past battles were convenient, he would be a fool to believe them to be absolute.
War was ever changing, no battle was fought with the exact method or gained the same result twice.
But this...he definitely would have recalled a situation like this. This was a new turn of events and he had to keep his wits about him.
After making it about twenty minutes in, a sudden loud bang echoed down the corridor, coming from behind them. "I know you're there!" A male voice bellowed. The voice sounded angered. deranged.
"That's him sir!" The soldier whispered to him.
The Soldier and Link both stood still, not wanting to give away their position.
"Come out! Come out and tell me where she is!" The male's voice cracked, as if he had been screaming for some time. His breathing was loud, sped up.
His voice...frantic...angered.
With his weapon drawn, both soldiers cautiously crept to the end of the cave passage where faint light poured from a hidden opening off to the side.
An open space, the light coming from burning crates off to the side, otherwise empty, save for the scattered corpses of soldiers throughout the space.
From the state they appeared in, they had been hit a large blunt object.
There was blood everywhere.
It was splattered from the ceiling and walls onto the floor, pooled beneath the bodies of soldiers whose faces were crushed flat within their helmets.
"Goddess above." the soldier breathed, his hand clutching at his weapon tightly in terror.
Link looked on dispassionately. "I have never seen such madness." he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion.
A flash of purple caught the corner of his eye as he scanned the room.
He made his way towards it, ignoring the soldier's hushed protests.
When he got closer, his eyes widened and he froze. Blue eyes lined with gold stared back at him. Reaching down, he grabbed it brought it close.
He recognized it despite it's ragged appearance. Only one person dressed in such a fashion.
Suddenly the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor caught his ear. Then there was a low groan of pain before it grew into a scream of anger.
The soldier looked at Link, anxiety written clear on his face as he raised his sword but Warriors, dropped the item and shook his head.
They slowly moved into the open area, eyes and ears peeled for any signs of movement.
As they advanced, the noises grew. Heavy footfall and heavy breathing.
An occasional whimper or whine as things were dragged around. The sounds came more and more frequently until, finally, a single figure came into view, slowly stumbling forward.
His hair was disheveled. Green eyes wild. Blood seeping from wounds hidden behind purple robes, dripping onto the ground.
Robes soaked in blood that was both his and not his. A large bloodied hammer being dragged behind him. His missing hood left his face uncovered.
The Hero of Warriors felt his heart jumped.
The face that stared back at him was one he knew.
But how?
It didn't make sense. What could possibly bring about this scenario? Why the hell was Ravio here of all places, alone?
(He shouldn't be here, he was supposed to have joined up with them several missions prior. )
But Time had taken a different path as well...
"Where..." came the raspy whisper.
"Where...Where is she?" His eyes were frantic and desperate, darting around.
Not once had he looked at Warriors, as if he hadn't been there at all. He looked right at the soldier, his eyes piercing into the soldier's.
"Tell me where...is she..." He growled louder, stepping closer even as the soldier took several steps back.
He looked around frantically, trying to find something in the darkness, find someone.
But why? Who was he looking for...
(...Could he...)
"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about!" The soldier shouted, his voice shaking as he pointed his sword at the unhinged man.
"LIAR!" He roared, storming closer, hammer being raised with one arm.
"You killed my comrades!"
"You all took her from me! Took me from her!" His voice raged, his path to the soldier blocked as Warriors stepped in front of him.
His eyes settled on Warriors, and his gaze became fixated upon him.
Suddenly Ravio let out a loud scream, and without a moment's notice, he swung the hammer at him.
Instinctively, Warrior raised his blade and blocked it as best as he could, even as his arms shook from the force of the attack.
"Tell me what's wrong!" Warriors cried, desperately trying to hold the sword steady as the merchant pressed his hammer against his sword.
Ravio was screaming.
"It's all wrong! IT'S ALL WRONG!!" He was screaming and fighting against Warriors, but it was useless. "I'm not supposed to be HERE! You took her!! She was supposed to be SAFE!"
Warriors' ears picked up movement behind him and he shoved Ravio away just as the soldier swung his sword at the unstable man.
"Who are you talking about?" The soldier snapped as he was pulled back by Warriors while he put distance between them and Ravio.
"She was supposed to be with safe! I'm not suppose to be here!" Ravio cried out, as if he hadn't heard what was being asked at him.
"I was there! I was waiting for her at the house! I SHOULDN'T BE HERE!" Dropping the hammer, Ravio grabbed the side of his head with both hands, shaking his head violently.
"(y/n)..." He groaned in pain, eyes squeezing shut.
Warriors felt like he had been dumped in cold water.
"What did you say..?" He whispered.
Ravio's head shot up, a wild look on his face that Warriors couldn't quite recognize.
He...remembered?
---
---
She was brave...
That's what Ravio's first thought of her was, when Mr. Hero explained her situation to him.
A world without magic. A world nothing like theirs.
At least there was a way for him to return to Lorule. But for her...?
But she didn't let that get her down. In her eyes, if there was a way to land in Hyrule, there must be a chance to return home.
He liked that about her, liked her more when he got to properly know her.
Her bravery, her determination.
The determination to keep going even when she had no clue how to go about things.
But that determination to return home didn't stop her curiosity.
Ravio wouldn't deny how pleased he felt when she asked detailed questions about his items. Even more so when it turned into a conversation about Lorule.
Which became a routine whenever the group came by.
The culture, the history, the economy, there was always something new she wanted to ask him about his homeland.
He was a bit embarrassed to say he didn't know too much about most things she asked at first. But she never made him feel dumb about it.
Instead, she listened attentively as he tried to explain the differences between Hyrule and Lorule. Happily speaking of her world, describing the vast differences between here and there.
They would chat about those differences for hours on end. Which turned to a talk about the people back home, which would lead to a talk about each other's hobbies and opinions on things.
Anything they both wanted to talk about really.
It was only when Link interrupted them to announce dinner or something else that Ravio would realize how much time had passed.
All those questions that made him smile brightly, and it always made her laugh. Her laugh was wonderful and her smile was bright and contagious.
It made him crave to have the answers to the questions he couldn't give her. He'd return to Lorule just to gather books on those topics and study them.
He dared to say he knew more about his own home's history and of Hyrule's thanks to her curiosity.
When she returned, he was eager to show her what he managed to find.
Though he knew she wouldn't understand everything he said, it was simply a matter of her asking enough questions to make sense of it
Her enthusiasm was contagious when she spoke, especially since she never seemed disappointed or confused.
Sometimes he wondered whether that trait wasn't what attracted him to her at first.
He hadn't realized it at the time, but (Y/n)'s arrival had changed things. Everything about Ravio had changed. Every aspect of his life seemed to shift the longer he got to know her.
And it seemed he wasn't the only one who felt the same.
Watching the way Link and his companions began to behave around her.
Their gazes turning softer, smiles forming on their lips when she approached. They would sit closer to her whenever they had a chance and listen attentively to every story and ramble she shared.
How they each wanted to spend time with her. How the group seemed so much alive with her there.
How they felt like they needed to protect her because she was important to them.
How happy he saw them being when with her.
Not that he didn't understand. Being with her made him forget about everything that troubled him.
Everything simply felt better when with her.
He wasn't some strange fellow who people looked at oddly. He wasn't a coward that many people would mock.
He was simply Ravio to her.
...He liked being simply Ravio.
And being simply Ravio meant he was more perceptive than most others. (How else had he seen through Yuga's shoddy acting when he was manipulating Hilda.)
So it was almost immediate that he noticed the way the others became...attached to her.
How they started to focus more attention to her whenever she entered the room. How they began to follow her wherever she went. Even when she wished for a moment of solitude.
How they seemed to care for her a lot more now than before.
And while it was true that they were still worried over her safety but that wasn't exactly uncommon for them either.
But the way they treated her...
They were becoming...possessive. And protective. It was almost frightening actually.
Especially when they acted that way towards one another, especially around (Y/n).
How they glared at one another with venom one moment, only to look at her with absolute adoration the next.
How they looked at her as if she were the sun itself.
As if she were the entire world itself.
...Not that he blamed them. (Could he blame them?)
She was simply...perfect.
Not to say she was a flawless person that never made a mistake. No no.
But that's what made her perfect, she was human. She was herself.
She was real and real was beautiful.
He adored the times when Link would ask him to be her company, when they had business she couldn't join them in. (Business that had them strictly tell him what areas to not take her to, business that had them returning with a faint scent of blood.)
He spoke to her, let her speak whatever was on her mind. He joined her whenever she wanted to head to town or wander the area.
And with some made up excuses and a promise that she wouldn't go to certain places and to return at a certain time, he even let her wander off on her own.
He had been nervous about doing so. Because (he didn't what to consider the possibility that she would walk into danger if he wasn't there.) Link had told him to always be by her side.
But how could he listen to him when she would ask him with a nervous smile how she wanted some time to herself.
...She shouldn't smile like that. It should be happier, more carefree.
He could listen to Link about many things. (He had done so much for him and his homeland, it was the least he could do.)
But...what was the harm of letting her have a moment to herself? (Even if it felt like he was being torn to two whenever she had to leave.)
Yet when he gave her his conditions and told her he'd keep quiet...
That stained, nervous smile would relax into one more fitting. One full of joy and excitement.
He'd watch her as she waved at him as she wandered off, Sheerow fluttering around him.
Her journal under her arm and a bounce in her step. Only returning to the house when she vanished from his sight.
He'd spent the whole time she was gone debating what excuse or lie he would have to give to Link.
But she returned, always. With that beautiful wide smile, the tension gone from her shoulders.
His heart was melting and he wasn't sure how long it take for him to recover from such a beautiful sight. But he never wanted his heart to recover. (Not when it was caused by her.)
It was love. That's what he, what the heroes, felt.
What other emotion would make him feel as if his heart was filled with an endless warmth. As if his chest was going to explode with affection, with happiness, with love?
He loved (Y/n), and he knew everyone else did, too.
He didn't think his heart could beat this much when he thought of her. Not this fast, not this violently.
It almost hurt. It was almost too much.
But it was never enough. He wanted more.
When she smiled at him, his heart was ready to burst. When she held him, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her pull away. Never wanted to feel that cruel coldness that always came when she let go.
When she wrapped a loose arm over his shoulders when they sat together, when she drifted off to sleep and slumped against him.
When her eyes brightened when she saw him when she and the others next returned to the area.
It was him that made her have that look. Not the others, certainly not Link. (Perhaps not for a long while.)
He wanted to keep being the reason that she was happy and relaxed. (LookAtHimLookAtHimLookAtHim)
Ravio hated when she left, the world felt quieter, colors more muted.
But he waited patiently, because each parting meant she would return soon enough.
She always seemed tired when she returned, but Ravio tried his best to offer her a quiet space for herself. Her expression of gratitude made going behind Link's back all the more worth it.
Each parting meant a return.
When he last waved her goodbye. She seemed more quiet. She still looked at him warmly. Yet much more tired. Evene as the others seemed oblivious to it.
But Ravio saw.
It lingered within his mind some time after. But he tried to argue with himself over what could have happened.
When he could think of nothing, he decided that the best course of action was to ask her in person. He wanted to help her, he wanted to ease her burdens, even a little.
So he waited for her return. Waited so he could ask her what he needed to do in order to take the weight that had been pressing down on her.
Waited so she could finally let herself have that moment of peace that had been so long coming.
...
.....
But she never came back....
No one did.
He waited and waited, waiting for her to return. Waiting for him to see the light in her eyes again.
He wanted to see her smile again. To hear that musical laugh.
Yet he waited. He waited as long as he could for her to come back but...she never did.
One month became two.
And neither she, nor Link and his companions returned.
'They...They're just delayed.' He rationalized in his head. From what Mr. Hero explained, they didn't get to choose where they went. So obviously they must have found a trail and went after that shadow.
Yes...it..it was a delay...they'll...she'll return...
Two months became three.
But no one came.
'What happened?' Ravio paced in the house, wringing his hands.
'Where did she go?'
He received no answer.
He got no response.
Only silence.
Silence that drove Ravio mad. A silence that only brought more questions.
Questions he could find no answers for.
(Why did they not return? Why were they delaying? What could possibly have happened?)
The silence was deafening and he loathed.
"I...I just have to wait..." He whispered to himself, biting the tip of his thumb.
"I mustn't leave. She could return any day now." He shook his head, forcing his legs to start moving once more.
(He ignored the nagging feeling in his stomach that told him something horrible happened.)
He forced himself to stay still for a few moments. Breathing slowly. Slowly and deeply. Just...just until she returns. Just until she returns.
Just until she arrives, safe and sound, with a smile on her face and her eyes shining brightly like they had once before.
But the third month eventually led to four.
What happened? Why haven't they returned?
Had it been enemy? Had they've become trapped somewhere?
Had the heroes done something to her..?
Ravio's breathed hitched at the thought.
Why...why would he think that? He's seen how they act around her. Treating her like she created the stars in the sky.
They would never, never, do something that would lead harm to her.
(...But she's been so stressed lately.)
No. They wouldn't. They wouldn't do something like that. He knew that.
The heroes would never do something that could cause trouble between them and (y/n). They'd kill themselves before doing something that would harm her.
(But why did she only feel relaxed when away from them?)
He sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair, trying to calm the worry that plagued him.
They would be fine. (She'll be fine.)
He just has to believe that. They have to be fine.
'If anything happens, she knows she can always send a letter to me...right?.' he thought, had he ever told her that? Had he ever told her that even when traveling, she could always reach out to him?
Tears springing in his eyes as he buried his head in his palms.
What could have happened, what kept her away?
It wasn't his fault. He would never wish to cause her harm. He wanted her happy. (But he wasn't there with her all the time. The others though...)
The others...if they...if...he clenched his hands, taking deep breaths to keep himself from falling apart.
They...they wouldn't hurt her.
They may have become possessive, may have monitored her whereabouts...but they were...simply watching out for her...
...
...Right?
(But what if they crossed the line?)
A shudder ran through his body, his breathing becoming uneven again, panic starting to grip him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop his thoughts from spiraling out of control.
No...there was no way they could hurt her. (They knew better than that.)
But...what (did they do) happened...
There was no way they wouldn't be connected to it.
What...(did they do) happened?
(It's going to alright. Any day now. Any day.)
Four led into five.
What (did they do) happened?
And on the sixth month, he's unable to bear the quiet anymore.
He sits at the table, head in his hands. He long since closed up the shop. Unable to think.
Sheerow resting on his shoulder, trying to comfort him even if the little bird knew it was useless.
He needs to know why. Where is she? Is she alright? Who took her? How did they get her?
The questions ate at his heart and tore open everything he thought he had been keeping locked away.
What did they do?
Where were they? Where was she?
(What did they do? It's all wrong.)
"What did they do..." He said to himself, voice breaking. "Where...where are they?"
There was no door opening behind him.
No one to come and greet him, to apologize for taking so long.
No warm smile that would have easily soothed away the pain that had settled in his heart, placed months ago.
He doesn't notice the tears that began dripping silently onto the table.
No one was coming. But he didn't want to leave and be proven wrong.
So he stayed there, staring at the table, letting the pain overtake him. Tears streaming from his eyes and the fear and pain in his heart only growing.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped his hair tightly, staring blankly at nothing.
Everything was hurting him but he just wanted them to come back.
His heart was hurting him but all he wanted was for her to come back.
What did they do....
What did they do to her. (He wanted to find her but he had to stay. He had to be ready for her return.)
What did they do. (He wanted to go but he had to wait for her to return.)
What did they do. (He had to wait for her to return.)
He couldn't leave. (He had to wait.)
(He couldn't leave. He had to wait.)
(He couldn't leave.)
And all the while, his world was crumbling apart.
What did they do...
---
---
His eyes were greeted to open skies and the sounds of battle.
..He was nowhere near where he should be.
(He shouldn't be here. She could be back and she would think he forgot about her)
He was in a daze as he walked. He didn't know how long he did.
(Why was it so hard to breathe? Why did his heart heart so much? What was happening? He shouldn't be here.)
He stumbled and hit the ground hard, shaking.
"Hey! You shouldn't be here!" He heard footsteps approach. Several.
"A civilian? Here?" "Where did he come from?"
".. need to go home.." He whispered. "I... shouldn't be here."
"Well you're right about that." One said as he stood before him, Ravio could see his boots.
Slowly, he looked up at the soldier who stared down at him.
"You seem lost little man." The soldier said, a mockingly kind smile on his lips.
"Maybe you should come with us to make sure we don't bring you any more danger."
Before he could reply another spoke up. "He's weird. Look at the state of him."
"Probably is sick." Another said. "In the head I mean"
Laughter rang out among their group.
The words didn't register in Ravio's brain and he blinked, looking at the other men who surrounded him. His mind felt fuzzy and confused, he could barely hear the words that fell from their mouths.
"you think we should-"
" don't wanna escort this guy-"
"-we don'-"
"Where...is she..." he asked quietly, trembling. (He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be here.)
"Where is...she..?" The soldiers looked at eachother, then at him.
The one in front of him, their leader, chuckled.
"Aw, missing someone?" The soldier asked sarcastically.
(How could they joke about this. About her. She could be in danger.)
Ravio swallowed hard, the lump forming in his throat making it harder to breathe.
The man crouched down, smirking.
"You know we could help you find her." He offered. "For a price."
The group chortled.
"Where is she..." He repeated, his voice crackling. "Where..is she?"
He choked as he spoke.
The soldier leaned closer, staring straight into Ravio's brown eyes with an expression Ravio couldn't quite place. "You know, maybe this place has a bunch of dangerous monsters ." The man purred, a sinister glint in his eyes.
(Monsters? no no, she shouldn't be near monsters. She could get hurt...she could get hurt.)
"Who knows? Maybe she ran off, maybe she got cornered." Ravio let out a low whine at his comment, which made the group laugh again.
"That or she's dead."
'No. No.' He didn't want her dead. She had to be safe. She couldn't be dead. "No. Please, please...No." He whimpered.
The soldiers kept laughing. "Ohh. So sad. You must miss her, don't you?" He cooed.
"Please, don't say that-"
"Sorry. but that's war for you.." Their leader said. "There are a lot of casualties. She isn't special."
Ravio's breathing quickened, his body trembling violently.
(Her gone. Dead. Gone. Gone. She's not coming back.)
"What are we going to do with him..." Another soldier asked. "We have to finish patrols."
(She can't be gone. She can't. She can't be. She had to be safe.)
Their leader shrugged as he stood up.
"Where is she?" he repeated, hand reading out to the soldier, only for him to kick it away, but Ravio didn't care about that. "Where is she?"
"Leave him. Seems deranged. Not our business." They continued walking ahead leaving Ravio in the dust.
(She's not gone. she's not. She's not.)
Ravio stood up, his breath quickening.
"Where is she.." He kept asking, His eyes widened, tears welling once again.
(Please...please, don't tell me she's gone.)
"already told you. Probably dead. Just accept it." Another soldier replied, walking past him to follow his friend. (Please...please.)
He gripped his head, shaking it.
(Nonononononononononono)
(She's not gone.)
He didn't feel himself letting go of his head. Didn't feel himself reach into his expandable pouch, the one he always carried because she told him it was always good to be ready for any situation.
Feel as he pulled out a weapon and turn to face the walking group.
(She's not deadShe's not deadThey know where she isThey are hiding herThey are trying to hurt her.)
He felt something inside him snap and suddenly, he shot out like a bullet towards the group.
The group hadn't realized what was happening, not until he was upon them, not until he grabbed the shoulder of the one who spoke to him and forced him to face him.
(What did you do.)
"Where is she." He rasped out. raising the hammer over his head with one arm.
"Where is she."
And He swung right at the leader's head.
---
---
"What. Did. You. Do..." Ravio rasped out at Warriors. Frowning, staring right at the pale faced hero.
"You...remember...?" Warriors breathed.
(How was this possible? How could he remember? The possibility of his sword brothers remembering was high, but the merchant?)
"Where is she?" Ravio took a step forward, never once taking his eyes off Warriors.
Warriors simply stared back, unable to unable to properly register this situation.
"Where is she...? What did you do? Tell me, Hero! What did you do to her?!" Ravio demanded, slowly reaching down and grabbing the hammer's handle.
"..I-"
"Sir!" The soldier tried to step forward as Ravio grabbed his weapon but Warriors kept his arm up.
"You..." Ravio's voice trembled, "You were all supposed to come back. She was supposed to come back."
Warriors was quiet, trembling.
"I waited. But no one came." The Lorule merchant's lips twitched into a crooked smile.
"No one CAME! No one! Not you! Not her!" He laughed hysterically, pointing a trembling finger towards Warriors, "You were supposed to come back! You were supposed to keep her safe and happy!"
He let out a scream. His entire body shaking.
"Why didn't you come? You should have come back! I shouldn't be here!" He screamed.
"Ravio-" "Where is she!?" Warriors could only shake his head slowly at him.
"We...we-"
"WHERE IS SHE?!" He screamed louder.
"Ravio, please-"
"You promised!! You all promised to keep her safe! And you FAILED!!" Ravio screamed, he grabbed his hammer with both hands and he lunged towards Warriors.
"Get back!" Warriors shouted at the soldier behind him, dodging out to the way by jumping to the side.
"WHERE IS SHE!" He yelled, his head followed Warriors even as the hammer hit the ground, the impact breaking the surface swiftly.
"Please, listen to me!" Warriors shouted.
"I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!!"
Warriors continued to dodge as the hammer flew straight towards him. The force of the hammer hitting the wall where his head has been was felt even without touching it. A few stone shards flying across flying and onto the floor.
"Where is she? WHAT DID YOU DO!?"
Another slam. Another broken surface.
"Please! You have to listen to me!" Warrior pleaded looking back towards the other man.
"Sir this man is clearly insane-" The soldier was cut off by another slam, and another crack.
"Ravio, please." Warriors begged.
"SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SAFE!!!" Ravio screamed. He continued to attack Warriors.
"I'm sorry." Was all Warriors could say.
Ravio sobbed, "I waited and waited." Ravio whispered, "But no one came."
"Ravio..."
"She could be back, and I'm HERE!" He screamed.
"She isn't..." Was all he could say to the merchant.
"I waited," Ravio cried, "She could have been in danger while I waited. I have to get rid of any danger. I have to find her."
"So you choose to kill our comrades?!" The soldier exclaimed, clampingn his mouth shut as Warriors gave him a sharp look.
Ravio shook his head wildly again, groaning in pain.
"I have to get rid of the danger. I have to. She's not safe here."
"The soldiers...were a danger..." Warriors said, his words calm.
"Traitors..." Ravio groaned, "So many, I have to get rid of them. I have to kill them. She wouldn't be safe here. She doesn't KNOW."
"She's not here. But this place is not a threat anymore." Warrior stated, "You got rid of the enemies."
"Sir! You can't just-" Warriors gave the foolish soldier such a fierce glare, the man stumbled back.
Turning back to Ravio. He continued to speak calmly.
"You did well to get rid of the traitors," He continued, "Less enemies to harm her."
"I waited..." Ravio whimpered. "I waited so long."
"I'm sorry you did." He spoke softly, slowly stepping forward, not removing his eyes from the merchant's. "But I can explain what's happening, I can tell you how we can find her again."
Ravio looked at him.
"Find her again.." He mumbled back.
"Yes. We can find her again." He said gently, reaching out with one hand to touch Ravio's shoulder. Ravio flinched before relaxing slightly.
"You don't care about the rest of the world. Neither do I. Only She matters, right?" Ravio slowly nodded at him.
"We have to get rid of any traitors here." Warriors continued, "Get rid of any possible danger to her. We have to make sure this place is safe for her, right?"
"They...said they didn't know where she was..." Ravio said, still hesitant but less aggressive than before.
"They said they didn't know...but I knew they were lying..." He shook his head, blinking as of to clear his vision. "I knew, traitors always lie. I was going to force them to tell me, but they were stubborn, liars..."
"So you killed them." Warriors finished, nodding his head.
Ravio nodded his head again. "I...She's not here...w-where is she?" He repeated, his whole body trembling violently.
"...She's gone." Warriors replied.
Ravio stared at Warriors with wide eyes. "Gone...?"
"She...had to go somewhere.." Warriors said calmly, "We all did...it's why you're here too..."
"...Why I'm here..."
"Think about it, why would you be here?" Warriors asked Ravio, who continued to stand still. "You've been waiting patiently for her return. Why would you be here when she hasn't returned yet?"
"I..."
"It's alright. Just think. Why are you here. You remember this place don't you? Do you remember me? How we first met?"
"..War...Cia..." Ravio mumbled, his breathing heavy. Warriors nodded.
"The sorceress, the war she began. We are currently fighting her. Tell me Hero of Lorule," Warriors felt Ravio flinch under his hand, "How can you be here, how can we be fighting her if you were waiting for (y/n) back home?"
Silence filled the room for several moments, as Ravio stood there and processed everything that was said.
His gaze lowered to the ground, his eyes watering. His lip quivering.
Finally, he managed to look up at Warrior, fear in his eyes.
"She's...not.." He whispered, trailing off, but Warriors knew what he was asking.
"...She isn't..." Warriors replied, eyes softening as he thought of her, "But she is not here. You remember when you met her, right?"
Ravio nodded.
"But if you think about it, that point in time hasn't happened yet." Warriors reasoned, "So if you're here, and the point of time when you met her is farther down the line, what do you think that means..?"
"That she's still alive." Ravio answered quietly.
"Precisely."
"She's not dead." He said slowly. "She's...She's okay?"
"Right." Warriors smiled weakly.
"...Is she really alive?"
"She's not dead. That woman is very strong."
"Strong..." Ravio nodded, thinking of her. "She is very strong." He raised his head.
"What...what do we do?" He asked, wringing his bloodied hands, the fierce aggression that had been behind those eyes now settling, replaced with exhaustion. "W-What should we do now?"
"First we needed to meet up with the others, it's better to be around those you trust when feeling like this." Warriors explained, "Then we can decide on what to do next."
Ravio stared up at him, slowly nodding before looking around.
"...The...bodies..." Warriors looked at the corpses around them, eyes empty of any emotion.
"What about them?" He asked,
"Traitors..." Ravio muttered.
"We'll destroy the entrance to this cave..." He answered, "Lie and say an ambush took them out. They were never meant to live beyond the war anyways."
Ravio nodded, appeased by his response.
He shrugged, "Traitors don't live past their usefulness."
"How could you say that?!?" Warriors looked over his shoulder at the sudden outburst.
The soldier had his sword pointed at him. "These people risked their lives! And you decide to leave them here and take that...that monster with us?!??"
Warriors raised an eyebrow, "I don't see how you care, you abandoned them to save yourself."
"That...is not true!" The soldier shouted back, "I went to get help!!"
"You all saw Ravio here, decided to be drunk on power and harass a clearly out of sorts man." Warriors stated, turning to face the soldier, "And when he took out several of your 'comrades', despite your clear advantage in numbers, you decided escape was the better option."
The soldier, who's stance became slightly shaky, stepped backwards slightly, "Th...those are not...true."
Warrior chuckled, it was not a pleasant sound. "Oh...you didn't think I knew about your little group's games power trips when left alone with any refugees hm?"
He looked at the soldier, "No. Of course I knew about that, I knew about the bribes you took to lie about reports, how you tried to lord your status as a soldier to get what you wanted out of civilians." Warriors tsk'd.
" What Ravio did to your comrades ...that wasn't part of your plan, was it? You wanted to use you authority to take advantage of a clearly unstable man and when it turned out to be a bad move, you abandoned your fellow men to save yourself."
He chuckled lightly, "A shame though; I might've gotten something of use out of them before I took them out myself."
"No...they-I....!" He exclaimed, sounding desperate. "I did this because I was forced to!"
"Always with an excuse." Warrior stated, looking at the soldier steadily, "But no matter, I had no plans to keep you alive the moment I realized who you had cornered."
"You...You can't!"
"Traitors," He scoffed, "No matter how many of you are taken out, sooner or later, someone else will always step in to take your place."
He stared down the soldier, "So killing you really won't make much of a difference. But I suppose extermination of insects never is."
The soldier trembled violently.
"You're a monster!" He shouted at him, "You are nothing but a traitorous monster!"
"Oh? Is that so?" Warrior replied, "How very hurtful...and predictable, you all always say the same thing when you face judgement."
"Y...You'll pay for this!" He growled, lunging forward at the Hero.
"DIE!!!" The soldier shouted, raising his sword once more.
Warriors stood there calmly as the man charged forward.
But his attack never landed.
The soldier could only let out a gurgle noise as a blade pierced his neck from behind.
"One lesson I learned when dealing with traitors," Warriors said simply, as the soldier collapsed to the floor, "Always bring backup."
The soldier let out a choking gurgle, a hand trying to stem the blood escaping his neck.
Warriors slowly walked over to the dying man, staring at him.
"Hm...I just realized." Warriors commented, crouching down.
"But what was your name again?"
The soldier's eyes widened, a flash of rage passing through his eyes, but just as quickly as it appeared, it faded.
Along with the life that those eyes once held.
Warriors stared at the dead man for a moment before looking up.
"Thank you for the assistance, Time."
"You enjoy making me deal with your messes." Ravio jumped at the young voice that came out of nowhere.
He blinked, and suddenly, a young boy was standing next to Warriors and the corpse, a grey, stone like mask in his hand.
The boy was familiar...
"...The...old man..." Ravio uttered, still blinking in confusion.
The deceivingly young hero looked up at him and nodded.
"I'd say it's good to see you again merchant, but I doubt you wanted to wake up here in the first place." He said as he reached over and pulled out his sword from the corpse.
Ravio twitched but nodded all the same.
Warriors stood up, dusting his pants, "Where's Sailor?"
"Getting the bombs ready to seal up this place." Time answered, flicking the blood off his sword.
Warriors nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to face Ravio.
"We're heading out now."
"Also here." Time reached into his pouch and pulled out something large.
Ravio blinked. Oh, his hood.
The child hero tossed the hood over to the merchant who caught it.
"Alright then, follow me." Warriors began walking away, Time following.
"Will we...see her soon?" Ravio asked quietly, Warriors didn't pause.
"We will, eventually...but for now, we need to wait just a bit longer."
Ravio shifted in place.
He...didn't want to wait anymore. He was tired of waiting.
...But this time he wasn't the only one waiting, was he?
"If she isn't at the end..." Ravio said after a moment, "...then I'll kill you"
"...And I'd let you." Warriors answered as he kept walking. Time silently following, but the glance he gave the Lorule merchant said the same thing.
Ravio was free to kill them if she wasn't there.
Absorbing that answer, Ravio silently followed them.
---
---
Ravio silently stared at the letter and his bracelet on the table.
The captain hadn't informed him of what were the contents within, but he said it would help his counterpart greatly.
Tomorrow he would head into Hyrule to find Link.
The war had helped him get his mind settled straight.
Guided by the three heroes, he was able to learn control over his emotions, able to have a plan to focus on. It helped, when he returned to a desolate Lorule, one without it's Triforce. One where Hilda was manipulated by Yuga.
But not that he had a problem hiding his thoughts.
Who would expect cowardly ol' Ravio?
Ravio stared at the bracelet and letter. Thinking about everything that would happen, what could happen.
Just a little longer and he'll see her again.
He just had to wait a little longer. He wasn't the only one who prayed she was at the end.
He wondered how Link was handling this. A part of him worried for his Hyrulian counterpart. (Understandable really, to be away from her was utter pain.)
He hoped she was there.
Because Ravio, he didn't want to kill them.
Because killing them meant she wasn't there.
So he hoped, hoped that he didn't have to kill them.
He didn't want to even consider the idea that she wasn't there.
So he wasn't going to kill them. Because she was going to be there. He just had to wait a bit longer.
Whatever he punishment he could come up with was nothing compared to what they must be feeling. So he will meet his counterpart with an open mind. (Only when she was back, safe and sound, would he speak to him about it.)
He sighed, setting the two items in his desk and headed towards his bed.
He fell asleep early that night, he wanted tomorrow to come soon.
Because then he's one step closer being with her again.
...
(His heart still hurt. The world was still so cold.)
Literally NOTHING could’ve prepared me for this, it didn’t just come out of left field we aren’t even on a field this fell out of the fucking SKY like some angel dropped their baseball.
But anyways RAAHHHHHHH RAVIO CONTENT!!!
Everything about this was so fucking perfect, I especially loved the fact that I could immediately tell that the soldier Warriors was with at the beginning was going to be killed. It just show’s consistency and doesn’t leave any plot holes.
Though that part does make me wonder about Warriors having some morally dubious allied soldiers who aren’t yandere or in anyways affiliated with (y/n), they just have faith in their Captain and don’t shy away from killing any traitors in their midst. Ngl I thought that Time was actually a soldier kind of like that when the traitor got killed.
I love the idea that Ravio’s self imposed isolation inside Legends house, just waiting and waiting like an obedient dog with no one to truly talk to, might’ve contributed to how he’s basically gone mad by the time Warriors finds him in the rest timeline. Of course going to long without answers would be the main factor and he would’ve gone mad either way but just kind of sitting there in the house probably sped up the process.
Anyways this side story has inspired me! Makes me want to write a side story of my own…
heeheeee....(I haven't slept yet) (Buut i will now!)
Legend made me write too much!
--
---
----
Link was no stranger to nightmares.
At this point, they happened like clockwork as his subconscious weaved and re-weaved each moment for his mind to relive.
And at the end of every nightmare, whether he woke in a cold sweat or with his old wounds aching, Link always felt bitter about how real those dreams felt to him. At the time, the places and faces that haunted him felt perfectly captured and the fatigue and pain within them were so genuine to his memories.
Ha! If only he could see just how much of a shoddy job those nightmares had done.
Because, even if that traumatic moment would always be a core memory to him, the truth is that years had past and Link had grown up; that wound had scabbed over and scarred, he didn’t need to carry the bleeding pain everywhere anymore.
And as such, those night terrors turned out to be quite the vague recollection in the long run.
There was always crucial details that would eventually be left out.
Because in those dreams, Link couldn’t feel the weight of his Uncle’s sword in his too small hands, couldn’t feel the way they wouldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t feel the stinging pain of his bare knees digging into the stone ground and scraping them. And he couldn’t feel the traces of wet blood that lingered on the hilt.
But this, this was all too real.
The gods could only be this cruel, to make him relive this pain.
----
----
Occasionally he wonders what his uncle, a former knight, would think of him?
Would he look at him with anger? Shame? Or with horror, covered in the blood of Hyrule's 'noble' knights.
Some knights his uncle no doubt once served alongside.
He recalled the stories his uncle once told him, the acts of bravery and courage that the knights preformed. How could he forget when his uncle would happily tell it to him whenever he asked?
Yet when he was staring down at the bodies of those knights, his tunic splattered with their blood. Men who's only crime was being brainwashed to serve Agahnim. He felt nothing.
How would his uncle react to him? To witness him staring down at the cooling bodies without a single trace of grief or guilt.
Would he recognize him as his nephew? Or think him an impostor?
It was irrelevant in the end, he could speculate on that for years and still never come to a conclusion.
He was numb to it.
(...Even though a part of him feared the answer all the same..)
---
---
"While I can't tell you what to do Mr. Hero, I can assure you that having something to eat would help put some life in that body of yours all the same."
"...I'm not hungry."
"Please...All you've had was a bowl of broth two days ago..."
"..." Ravio wrung his hands anxiously, staring at the young hero seated in the corner of the room next to a window where the sun could shine it's days over him.
Eyes stared blankly at nothing in particular, staying utterly silent unless Ravio urged an answer out of him.
It was rare for to see him stay in one place for long, normally Ravio would only catch sight of him when he came to restock his supplies, only to swiftly leave as silently as he came.
If it wasn't for the fact that it would mean never seeing him period, Ravio would have preemptively prepared his usual stock of items and set them aside for him to grab at his leisure.
He always left after restocking, gone for days at a time before returning for an hour or two at most. Looking more haggard each visit.
But this time, it's been a week since his most recent return, and he has stayed put since.
The only benefit to his recent return was now Ravio could actually check on his injuries, with him bruised and wounded whenever he came by.
It always scared Ravio, that every return could very well be his last.
Yet, no matter the injuries, he never showed signs he was in pain.
Never much of a said a word. Just eyes staring blankly from a pale bruised face.
Ravio knew on the rare occasion he caught him, his eyes were red and puffy, as if he had finished crying. But no tear stains were ever seen.
He didn't dare ask for the cause of his state.
(In a way, it looked like he was mourning. He couldn't imagine the level of loss needed to send someone like Link into such a state.)
Ravio felt so utterly helpless, yes he provided Link with items and weapons. But now he feared doing so would lead to his death.
Because that's how it looked to him, like he was purposefully walking to his death.
But to think that wouldn't imply that Link wanted death.
and the young hero who silently accepted to help him did not seem to have even the slightest sense of purpose to even have an urge for death.
A enjoy shell that simply did what was needed and if it died...
...Well he may as well be half way dead with the way he rarely took care of himself.
That was why he always tried to get Link talking, tried to ground him in the present, even if it was a failing effort.
He wanted to offer help, yet he feared any wrong word could be the final thing that tipped the hero over the edge.
What could he tell him that didn't sound strange? That didn't make him look like a fool?
He didn't know, and he refused to risk it, so he played it safe.
"Alright...could you at least drink some broth?" He asked, reaching to the tray of food he placed on the nearby table and grabbed the small bowl of broth.
An exhale escaped from the Hero's lips. "No...Maybe later.."
"Please, just a little bit, it'll settle your stomach." Ravio insisted, holding the bowl out, "I know it must be unhappy with the lack of food you've had lately."
For a while there was silence between them.
But before Ravio could pull the bowl back, Link finally gave in, and slowly took it from his hands and brought it to his lips.
The room was silent, save for quiet gulps as he drank the warm liquid. After a few gulps, he set it on his lap, staring down at it.
"Thank you."
Ravio blinked in surprise, "For what?"
Another sigh. "...Being kind." Link finally spoke up again, his voice soft and quiet as if he was speaking to himself.
"...Well...you're welcome." A shaky smile twitched on Ravio's face.
Legend nodded but didn't look back up.
Ravio frowned slightly, then decided to change the topic.
"Do you think you'll be able to get some sleep tonight?" He ventured, looking away from the hero to look at the sky outside the open window.
He didn't expect an answer, nor was he disappointed at all when he got none.
Instead of asking questions further, he turned and moved towards the door, softly saying, "Please at least finish the broth." before closing it behind him.
Eyes followed him until he vanished behind the door.
—
—
If Legend had the energy, he would have felt bad for stressing the Lorulian, yet the pressure the weighed down his body left him much too tired.
He didn't want to deal with the things that surrounded his life right now, he really didn't.
So instead he simply sat there and allowed his mind to wander, hoping he could just cease to be, for just a moment.
It was difficult, considering the amount of thoughts bombarding his brain.
If Ravio had asked him about any of his previous journeys, he would have answered with full honesty.
He barely recalled any of it.
Just pain.
So much pain it made him utterly sick.
Enemies that should have easily been slain with a simple swing of his sword left his utterly breathless with exertion.
His endurance, his strength, every pain filled experience that earned him the skills he had accumulated over the years.
All of it, reduced to nothing.
He had scars in areas that shouldn't be scarred.
He had unscarred skin in areas that should have been scarred.
He had memories he wished he hadn't, things which he did not wish to dwell in the slightest.
(To realize it may have all been one beautiful dream-No...no he couldn't dwell on it. Not for one second. It would break him.)
And despite this, despite everything that he'd gone through, he remained the hero he always was forced to be.
Had there truly been a point in time where he felt any pride for his title? (Had it truly existed at some point?)
Had there been a time where fighting for the sake of the kingdom, even when he thought he was about to collapse from the constant battles, was worth it?
If he had a chance to recall any such moment visually, he certainly couldn't recall it emotionally.
Couldn't even pull up a scrap of the pride he may have once felt. There was none left. (Because it may as well not have-stop right there.)
He was just...so tired.
...What was the point of going on.
—
—
Link left the next morning.
The empty bowl of broth next to the tray of cold food the only indication he had been there. (At least he finished the bowl.)
Ravio sighed at the sight of the empty chair, turning his gaze down to the letter in his hands.
It was a strange request he received a while back. (Very strange, He was a merchant, not a postman.)
Deliver this to the Hero, Link. That was what he had to do.
He could have refused, but his curiosity (and self-preservation) got the better of him.
It seemed rather personal, and although Ravio found it suspicious he felt compelled to follow through, because it could very well be something important.
He didn't need to know what exactly was written inside this mysterious envelope, just deliver it and be done with it.
But with the state Link was in. He was uncertain when was a good time to hand it over.
He had decided to swallow his anxiety and simply give it to him. But it seems he waited too long to make his decision.
Now he doesn't know when he'll will return.
Perhaps Mr. Hero won't return for several more weeks.
Ravio sighed, shoving the letter into his pouch, heading back towards his room.
----
----
His limbs hurt.
The Gibdo continued to approach.
He had been too focused on eliminating them, so much so he had forgotten the white Bari.
Electricity had coursed through him, leaving him stunned long enough for the Gibdo to strike him.
It was all he could do to block each attack aimed at him, blocking and dodging even as he grew weaker by the second.
Each hit that landed (hits that shouldn't have landed, he should have been better than this.) it landed hard, making his head ring and his vision become blurry.
With his strength spent, with his body weakening by the second due to exhaustion. it took all he could give to finally defeat them.
He allowed himself to collapse on the floor. Even as his body protested the sudden movement.
He gasped, closing his eyes for a moment.
The pain he felt in every inch of his body pulsed strongly. He felt dizzy...sick...heavy...
How utterly laughable. He genuinely would have chuckled if he had the energy to do so in this state.
He couldn't even handle such weak enemies, even when he knew their weakness and strengths.
He should be able to handle this better. What did it matter if he was bleeding from several cuts. He should be able to fight longer, fight more fiercely.
Why couldn't he fight like he once did?
What was the utter point of these memories, (they were real, they had to-stop, just stop. It'll break you.)
"Why..." he rasped out, hand weakly clenching the handle of his sword as a large shadow covered him.
"Why can't I just let myself give up..?"
The Wallmaster descended on him, he didn't bother to struggle, and the Wallmaster did not hesitate to pull him into it's grasps.
"I want to give up." he continued to speak, his raspy voice echoing into the dungeon room as he was pulled from the ground.
"I want to give up..."
He repeated over and over again, tears falling from his eyes as his eyelids fell heavy with weariness and exhaustion.
All he wanted to do was give up, because this wasn't just a nightmare. A nightmare he could wake from. This was crueler than any nightmare.
This was actually happening. This was real.
Everything that was supposed to be true had become false. (No one was where they should be. Nothing was as it should be. It was all so very wrong.)
And yet, he couldn't give up.
He wanted to give up, yet he kept going.
There was no point in giving up. Just as there was no point in going forward. He wouldn't get to return to where he wanted to be even if he did.
Return to everyone.
Was he still going forward because a part of him believed there was still a chance?
That if he continued on, he'd see everyone again?
He never learned from his foolishness did he?
The world around him faded to black as the Wallmaster carried him away in it's grasp
and he let it. It’s not like it was going to hurt him.
He simply didn't want to think right now.
-----
-----
He's dying.
If not physically, than certainly mentally.
Ravio didn't know how to feel, staring at the unconscious form lying in the bed.
He wasn't going to even try to understand how Link managed to return in such an injured state. No healing items in his pouch, his weapons and shield in terrible conditions.
If Sheerow hadn't brought his attention to the weak rise and fall of his chest. Ravio would have considered the collapsed body a corpse.
The thin trail of blood indicated he brought himself here. (hopefully the dark clouds in the sky meant rain, blood trails were bad for business.)
Yet here he was, alive.
He looked so broken, so exhausted. He was paler than ever and looked as though he hadn't eaten for days even if the lack of food in his pouch indicated he had eaten something.
He had bags under his eyes that spoke volumes of his lack of sleep and he was shaking, breathing uneven and irregular breaths causing Ravio's stomach to turn in response. (a fever?)
What kind of land was Hyrule if it allowed it's hero to become like this?
A land that didn't seem to care about it's hero who had suffered for its sake.
(Even after everything he seemed to have done for this place..)
"You really are a useless one..." He said to himself. His smile was fragile, his tone harsh.
All he could do was offer Link items and minor assistance. He doubted his companionship was worth much right now.
But it was all he could give.
"...I'm sorry..."
---
---
He didn't know how long he sat there. His head down in his knees, arms wrapped around his legs.
The sound of waves almost soothing in a cruel way. The sand beneath him, a gentle cool feeling that briefly distracted him from the ache he was experiencing.
He knew without looking that the moon was large and full, that the stars were plentiful in the island's sky.
It was peaceful. Peaceful and familiar and he hated it.
He didn't have to open his eyes to know it wasn't real. That this was a dream and eventually he would awaken, find himself in bed being watched over by Ravio most likely.
(He never slept well anymore. When was the last time he felt rested? He never knew if it was a blessing or curse that he could when he was dreaming. Everything he remembered always ended with cruel realizations.)
So he simply sat there with his head buried in his knees, forced to listen to the waves and waiting to awaken once more.
He ignored the scent of sea salt floating along the breeze, the touch of mist from the ocean spray tickling his skin.
And he did everything to ignore the (false Not real) presence next to him.
Because if he acknowledged that presence, then he would be forced to endure the pain that came with it, and he did not need to relive those memories again. He had lived with that trauma far too often.
But the presence next to him remained. And still he tried to ignore it.
But it didn't work. It never worked.
"Are you going to keep pretending I'm not here?"
His heart jumped at the voice.
"I'm afraid so." (He didn't mean to answer, didn't mean to react, but he could never deny her when she spike so kindly to him.)
Soft laughter was his answer, and he could feel his traitorous heart quicken with joy.
He didn't want to acknowledge that someone was there beside him. (That she was there.)
That it was the person that could bring him peace when he needed it most.
Just as he didn't want to acknowledge the feeling he felt whenever she spoke to him, that warmth in his heart. The joy he felt whenever she laughed joyfully at him.
The happiness he felt every time he was around her.
"I guess we're stuck together, aren't we?"
She moved closer. He could hear her. He tried to tell himself she wasn't there. He tried to tell himself he was hallucinating. He tried to remind himself he was dreaming. Yet his breath quickened. He swallowed heavily against the lump forming in his throat.
But he could never refuse to acknowledge it.
He knew it wasn't possible. And he knew it was a dangerous thing to admit to himself but still he couldn't help it.
"Don't tell me you are truly mad at me for being here?"
She teased him lightly. (She had a wonderful laugh, he wanted to hear it more.)
"I could never be mad at you." He answered honestly, never daring to make her think he felt anything less than affection for her.
Because he couldn't dare imagine spending a life without seeing her smile. Hearing the genuine laugh that escaped her lips. Seeing her eyes sparkle with happiness when he told her funny stories.
It was unfair. All the things he remembered. All the happy moments they had shared together. He wanted to forget.
Because they were nothing but a dream he had been forced to wake from.
They could never be real just because he wanted them to be true.
They weren't real. She wasn't real. (How that thought hurt)
Everything here was fake. Everything he was experiencing right now, was all a lie, a dream.
(Nothing here is real.)
Everything was an illusion. There was no hope for it to be real.
A dream of which tore itself from him when he finally gave in to it's sweet allure.
"Then why does your face look so upset?"
"Do I appear upset? Do I have something to be concerned about?" He replied. (because he couldn't let her ever believe he was upset with her. He couldn't bare to handle the hurt that would cross her face.)
"Yes. You don't sound pleased to see me."
"...I will always be happy to see you." (Never a lie)
"...Then why don't you lift your head up?"
He was tired, but he didn't care about any fatigue. He just wanted her to go away. (No, he wanted her to stay. To never leave. she should never leave. He needed her here. Hecouldn'tloseheragain-)
"Please..leave me alone." (Why did he say that? He didn't want her to leave? Please, she mustn't leave-)
"Why?"
"I can't stand the sight of you right now..." (Shut up. Why won't he shut up? Why was he saying those things to her when he didn't want to let her go?)
"Is that what is making you upset?"
"Yes." (No)
"Then why won't you look at me?"
"..Because.." (He was terrified.)
"You should look at me."
But he couldn't.
He wasn't strong enough.
(Why was he always unable to resist temptation?)
"So you don't want to see?"
"See what? I'm sorry."
"I'm asking if you don't want to see my face?"
She was close now, he could hear her breathing. Could almost feel her next to him.
A part of him prayed she would close the distance, reach out and pull him towards her so he could be wrapped her warmth.
(To have her lift his head up to gaze at her, caressed his face, run her fingers through his hair...)
When he thought about her it made his whole body shiver. And there was nothing that could calm him down, save the simple fact that it was her presence that filled his entire world.
"Link-"
"Just go!" He could feel the tears gathering in his eyes as he raised his voice at her. (Don't say his name. Don't say it. It's too much. It'll weaken him further. He'll give in. He'll give in if she says his name and give her what she wants.) He refused to allow those tears free rein.
(It was stupid and selfish of him, but he didn't think he'd resist it if they fell.)
"Just leave..." He rasped out, hugging his knees tighter. "Just leave me."
(Please...please, I beg you…don't leave. I'll have nothing else left. Don't leave me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.)
"I'm not leaving you Link, not while I'm right here." He flinched as her hand touched the top of his head.
(Warmwarmwarmwarmsowarmsoutterlywarm) Her fingertips running across the top of his skull.
"Please look at me?" She whispered.
"Leave me.. please…"
Her fingers continued to brush his scalp.
(He didn't want her to stop. He didn't want her to leave. Pleasedon'tleaveme.)
Slowly, she moved her hand down, he shivered as her touch left a trail of wondrous fire in its wake. Slowly and gently, she pulled her hand away from his head, and he nearly whimpered.
He could hardly breathe as she placed the palm of her hand on the side of his face, sliding it under his chin and gently pulling his head up.
"There you are," Her voice soft and gentle.
He felt a tear slip down his cheek, yet he was unable to look aware from her.
Not when she looked at him with such a loving gaze.
Her thumb wiped the tear away and it burned where her skin met his skin. A small sigh escaping his lips as her gaze traveled over his face. His eyes closed and he leaned into her hand as it cupped his cheek and allowed himself to get lost in the love he felt.
It was like the world disappeared around him. Nothing mattered anymore. He only cared about the warmth of her hand against his cold skin.
"Why do you keep crying over me?" She chuckled. Her thumb rubbing his cheek softly. She didn't know how much he loved when she did that.
(He couldn't answer her. He couldn't bear to hear her response.)
His eyes opened, and he found her smiling. It lit up her beautiful features perfectly. Her eyes twinkled with kindness.
He wanted to stare at her forever.
He reached out and took her hand in his, interlocking their fingers as he intertwined his fingers between hers, squeezing tightly.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that." He breathed.
She nodded. "Why?"
"Because then you'll realize what kind of a selfish fool I am."
"What makes you think that?"
He sighed heavily, trying to find the words to describe everything, but he was exhausted and it didn't take long until the tears started falling again.
"I hurt you..." He whispered to her.
She stayed silent.
"I hurt you and cared for only my own wants...and you suffered because of it."
"..You must really feel guilt over that, don't you?" She commented softly. He didn't answer her question out loud. She didn't need a response.
(Yes...Yes I do...I never stopped regretting)
He tightened his grip on her hand. He was trying so hard not to cry. To push back the emotions that threatened to engulf him and show her how much he truly regretted the pain he put her through.
He squeezed her hand and he leaned forward. Her forehead was resting against his, both of their breaths mingling together. Her hand holding his tightly as well. It was a comforting gesture, one that he craved.
"I hate myself for what I did to you."
"We all hate ourselves sometimes." she smiled, brushing the tears from his cheeks with her thumb. "We're human after all."
"What matters is what you do afterwards." She looked at him kindly.
"So what do you plan to do, Link?"
He couldn't speak for a moment, but her gaze never wavered from his face. Her eyes were filled with nothing but understanding.
"Whatever it takes to make it up to you, I will." He answered honestly. He wouldn't hesitate in doing anything to make her happy. Anything to prove to her that he still had a heart inside. "Anything I must."
"Then don't worry about it right now." She said. She slowly brushed his tears away and she rested her forehead against his once more.
"Just relax and take a deep breath. The outside world can wait for a moment." She spoke reassuringly.
He shook his head, still trembling.
"If you keep shaking like this I might just think that you're mad at me." She laughed.
The laughter of a woman who was willing to give him another chance.
(How can she be so kind to him?)
"And then I'd start getting worried again." She laughed softly. He couldn't help but laugh as well. She pulled away from him, moving to sit pressed next to his side.
Her arm snaking around his waist to pull him closer.
He was able to relax and lean against her.
His heart was beating faster than it should be. He knew that he shouldn't, but he still couldn't bring himself to move away from her touch.
Her fingers began stroking through his hair. It felt nice.
They remained sitting in silence, watching the waves, simply enjoying each other's company.
"...I don't want to wake up..." He murmured quietly, "I want to stay here, with you." finally admitting his true feelings out loud.
(He didn't want to return to a world where she wasn't there. It hurt. It hurt every second he was awake and away from this peace.)
"We all have to wake up from our dreams eventually." She answered, smiling as he relaxed into her embrace. "Even the ones we enjoy."
"But I'm not ready for that." (I don't think I'll ever be...)
"You're wrong." He twitched, realizing he had spoken that aloud, "You deserve everything good in life. You don't deserve to trap yourself in a dream. You deserve to be happy."
She gave his hair an affectionate stroke.
"And I'd be very happy if you gave yourself a chance."
(I can't...not after what I did...)
The tears were streaming down his cheeks. He felt a lump in his throat, as the tears threatened to choke him.
"...Close your eyes Link." She whispered softly.
"I..." He hesitated but soon relented. (He could never deny her when she asked him so gently.)
He did as she asked, and she held him close.
He leaned his head onto her shoulder, her scent calming him as he tried to control his sobs.
"Just drift away now, you shouldn't stay here forever you know." She said, pressing her lips to his forehead.
(She was warm and smelled good. Comforting. Like finally returning home.)
But how could this be? She was never meant for someone like him. She deserves someone
better. Anyone better. But he was selfish, he could never let her go.)
"I wish I could." He sobbed.
"But you can't." She replied, "You'll see...you'll see...everything will work out."
He didn't reply; he just held her closer. He buried his nose into her neck, shoulders shaking, inhaling her fragrance deeply.
"Link?"
"...Yes?"
"...Good Night..."
He sniffled and tried to burn every part of this moment into his memory. Even as a heaviness slowly pulled at him away from it all.
"Good night...(y/n)..."
And then, he was gone.
----
----
----
"I...um...I have this letter for you." The spoonful of stew paused it's trip into his mouth as he looked at Ravio.
He blinked, "...Is that so?" and set his spoon down when Ravio nodded.
It had been two months since he had woken from that dream. A month since he stopped Yuga. It had taken him time to recover from both it and the injuries he had sustained.
He had been letting himself recover slowly, mostly at Ravio’s insistence; going about life as best as he could after the last battle.
Yuga was slain, Ganon defeated once more, Lorule was restored, and Hyrule was at peace for the time being.
Ravio had eventually returned a few weeks after everything was settled. Using the excuse that business was better in Hyrule than back home.
(He threw a spare key at his head and told him to clean up after himself.)
He never had that same dream again. A part of him felt angered that the only source of happiness he had received in so long was ripped from him once more.
Yet another part of him felt both numb, yet somewhat accepting about it.
(She did say he couldn't stay there forever. Even as a dream, (y/n) was always watching out for him.)
He watched as his friend fiddled with the surface of the small envelope in his hand before handing it over to him.
He stared down at it, wondering what kind of letter it contained. He flipped it around, but the outside of the letter was blank.
"Who gave you this?" He asked, placing the letter on his lap for the moment.
Ravio fidgeted.
"Nobody! I-I mean, no one in particular...Not to say it's not not anyone in particular...i" He laughed nervously, "P-Perhaps the contents of the letter can answer your question? It's a really weird story."
Link nodded, he doubted Ravio would hand him a dangerous letter.
"I-I um...haven't looked through it yet."
...Or maybe he would. At this point he wasn't sure anymore.
"Trying to get rid of me after I did your job for you?" He bluntly commented.
Ravio sputtered and tried to defend himself but Link simply handed him his nearly empty bowl.
"I'd like some more please."
Ravio blinked and tried to decided between reacting to the now clear teasing or to immediately get him another bowl of stew.
But his desire to see him eat more trumped his desire to complain.
"...I'll make sure to heat it up." He said as he grabbed the bowl and left with a small huff.
He relaxed against his pillow for a moment before he picked up the letter again when Ravio left, and stared at it. Something about this letter didn't feel quite right. But it didn't feel wrong enough.
He eventually decided to open it.
Peeking within, he saw several folded pictures. He could see images of the sky in many of them. Pulling them out, a small slip of paper slipped away and fell on his lap.
Looking down, he noticed writing on it. It took him a moment to register what dialect it was written in, and only then did his heart begin to race at top speed.
It shouldn't exist here. This dialect shouldn't exist in this era.
How-
Legend looked at the door. As if Ravio would come in at that very second. But the merchant didn't.
Looking back down at the slip of paper, he swallowed.
'To the Hero of Legend.'
He wasn't called that yet. In this moment in time, he was just the Hero of Hyrule.
His title came later.
A shaky exhale left him as his hand trembled a bit harder holding onto the note tightly.
Looking at the folded pictures on his trembling hand, he slowly unfolded it, the contents within revealing-
...Captain..? There was no doubt who was in the picture. No other person could possibly come to mind.
He re-folded the photograph, as if to take a moment to gather his wits.
(Was it real?) His mind whispered, (was it truly?)
His breathing quickened. His stomach felt like a knot. Every nerve in his body was on edge as his heart was ready to burst.
Slowly...he unfolded the picture again, gazing at the calm face of the Hero of Warriors staring back at him.
It...It was him.
There was no mistaking who it was. No mistaking the sword only a Hero could wield.
(Could it actually be true?)
He looked through the next picture and a lump formed in his throat.
The sailor, a bit younger than he last remembered (a bit thinner as well), but still so easily recognizable. (The captain must have used his Picto box)
Even young and without his markings, Legend could easily recognize the old man. (He looked as tired as Legend felt. Yet there was a sense of peace in his gaze that could only have come from being near his most trusted.)
A genuine smile appeared on his face, the first one in...so long that he couldn't truly remember.
Legend's breath caught in his throat. (It was him. It was actually him.)
His vision became blurry, and before he even realized it, tears were running down his face, his body shaking.
He quickly brought a hand up, swiping his eyes to try and regain composure.
He kept shifting through the pictures. Eyes devouring each and every new image that he saw next.
Warriors. Time. Wind. He even saw Ravio. (And he suspected he could figure out how this letter came into the merchant's hands.)
Each image sent his heart soaring. (It was new. new new new new and real)
There was Zora Princess Ruto and the Goron Chief Darunia from the Old man's era. The Sage of Earth and the king of red lions from the sailor's.
People he shouldn't recognize but did. it set his mind spinning.
But it was the last picture that made him pause.
The last one that left him breathless.
Her smile, her blue dress, the Hibiscus in her red hair.
"M...Marin.." He choked out.
It was impossible...she shouldn't exist...she had been a dream.
But to deny her image in this picture would mean to deny the images of all the others.
And he simply couldn't handle that possibility.
It was her. It was truly her.
"(y/n)..." He whispered, he stopped trying to fight the tears that continued to fall. "You were right."
She had once told him of a possibility.
'If there are parallel worlds that even you've been to. Wouldn't that mean Koholint was just a world that fell into the Windfish's dream like you did?'
He had considered that possibility many times. But it never went far. because how would he prove it? By the time he met (y/n) and the others, Koholint was years behind.
He had considered, but never truly believed.
Because how would he go about finding evidence?
...With a picture it seemed. A picture that showed her happy and healthy and alive.
The realization shook him to his core.
All this time, he thought he mourned a life he had believed was forever lost.
All those times he wondered why he had been burdened with that weight, even if it was a weight he carried by his own choice.
The nightmares that haunted him for years.
But this one image...It left him dizzy with joy. She hadn't disappeared.
She was alive.
He took in each picture over and over, trying to absorb every little detail he could.
If Marin was alive... His brothers remembered...than that meant...that meant (y/n)....
Legend covered his mouth, unable to control the sobs escaping. He could hardly breath as he struggled to hold back the cries.
(Y/n) was alive.
(Y/n) was alive.
All that he went through hadn't been for nothing.
Marin was alive. Most likely back home now that the war was certainly finished. (Not gone. Not a mere memory.)
His sword brothers, they were all out there, waiting just like he was.
Waiting to be reunited once more.
It made him so utterly happy.
"Mr. Hero?" Legend looked up at Ravio who nervously stood by the door with the tray of food.
"Are...you okay?" He asked, slowly approaching, scanning Legend to see if he wasn't injured again.
His eyes settled on the pictures that had fallen from his grasp and onto the bed, surprise crossing his face as he registered what the pictures contained.
"I.." Legend breathed, a smile stretched across his face. "am more than okay."
That's what mattered, after everything he had to go through. It was all real.
Everything that mattered to him was real.
All he could do was cry from the joy of that simple fact.
God the ANGST in this one is so potent, it honestly gives Time a run for his money in the suffering department.
I loved the fact that Legend first thinks he’s dreaming about Marin given the fact that he’s surprised by (y/n)’s voice, it adds an extra layer to it. But Legend having a hyper realistic dream about (y/n) with THIS level of lucidity makes me wonder if Legend has a connection to dreams in general thanks to his experiences on Koholint,
Perhaps he should have another title like “Hero of Dreams” in the same way Four is both the Hero of Mean and the Hero of Light, along with the Hero of the Four Sword and so on and so forth.
