Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good.

Yeah.

Still good."

Stitch

/\ - /\ - /\

Where was that kid?

Link hopped on top of crate, past the point of caring whether it was beneath his dignity as a captain, and scanned the camp.

No luck. Not that he was expecting much, the gremlin was appropriately gremlin-sized, after all—but he was starting to get desperate. He’d started looking for Mask, but no one he’d asked could give him directions to the sprite’s tent.

That was two hours ago now, and if Link didn’t find Mask soon, he was going to tear the camp apart until he found him. The kid was his responsibility, despite all the effort Mask had put to avoiding him, and the Captain didn’t take responsibility lightly.

By the three, if Mask was hiding from him while Link was worried out of his mind, he’d—he’d—

Well, to be honest, Link hadn’t quite figured out what he’d do yet, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. He’d put Mask on kitchen detail, if Link wasn’t convinced that would end up with half the army down with food poisoning—

“What are you doing, Link?”

Link nearly fell off the box. Windmilling his arms frantically, he managed to keep his balance, if not his dignity. That had clearly sailed away, if Sheik’s folded arms and arched eyebrow said anything.

Link coughed hard and looked away, trying to avoid the sheikah’s piercing red gaze. There was something about her eyes that made his chest feel like it’d been stuffed with warm cotton and keese. The sensation was even worse when Link managed to look like an idiot in front of her, which the captain was fairly certain he’d succeeded at.

Link shoved a hand through his hair and sucked several breaths in between his teeth, trying to get the stupid keese in his stomach to behave. “I was looking for Mask.” He said shortly.

Sheik straightened in surprise. “The little hero? What’s wrong?”

“Besides the fact that I’ve been looking for him for the past two hours and haven’t found a trace?” Link bit out. “No idea. That’s why I’m looking. Proxi and I split up a while back but she hasn’t come back yet.”

No one knew where the brat was. And he—Mask might have been a hero, but he was still a kid. And Link knew that Mask liked being alone; preferred it, even. But just because that was what the boy thought he wanted doesn’t mean that was healthy.

The sprite had proved he could take care of himself and more on the battlefield, but this wasn’t the battlefield. Just because it was their camp didn’t mean it was totally safe, either. Darkness lurked everywhere.  

Link had learned that the hard way.

Besides, Mask could be hurt, or sick, or-or—Link could feel his brain overheating as thousands of possibilities, each worse than the last, raced through his head faster than Epona. He curled his fists, nails biting into the leather of his gloves, and breathed through his teeth again.

One. Two. Three.

Link was helping nobody by freaking out. Least of all the sprite.

“Nobody knew where his tent was?” Sheik asked quietly, tapping fingers on her elbow thoughtfully.

Link shook his head. “I’m starting to think he doesn’t have a tent.”

The two of them shared a solemn glance. For once, the seriousness of the situation kept the blasted keese wings at a minimum, which Link was almost thankful for, if it weren’t for his kid missing—

“I might have an idea.” Sheik murmured, and all of Link’s breath left his lungs in a whoosh. He was so relieved he might have kissed her—

Wait, no. Bad Link. Bad. Stop that.

“Really?” His voice was breathless, and Sheik gently set a hand on his shoulder, long, slim fingers squeezing gently, reassuringly.

“It’s just a guess, but it fits the sprite’s character,” She said. “Follow me.”

She took off at a sprint, and Link followed her, scarf flowing on the wind as they dodged through rows of tents.

The relief abruptly dived off a cliff when Link realized Sheik was leading him towards the edge of the encampment.

Din’s fire, just what was the kid thinking—

“There!” Shiek’s hand shot out, pointing towards the base of a nearby tree. Link’s head snapped around, following her gesture—and nearly tripped and fell face-first in the mud.

There was a small figure curled up in the nook left by two protruding tree roots, tucked up against the trunk. A tiny, lumpy bundle of green and yellow, a sword and shield leaning against a nearby root.

Link gulped hard. Farore, he looked so terribly small…

“Hey, Sheik?” He said quietly, gaze not leaving Mask’s body. He could see the sprite was shivering even from here.

“Yes, Link?” the sheikah replied, her voice a little softer than usual.

“Can you get an extra cot and blankets brought to my tent, right away?”

The sharp red gaze cut to his, and Sheik tilted her head thoughtfully. “You planning on sharing your tent?”

“Of course.” Link huffed, crossing his arms and frowning down at the kid. “The Three know he won’t stay in a tent if there isn’t someone there to make him stay in it. If that has to be me, well, it has to be me.”

There was a little moment of silence, one that stretched long enough that Link turned to look at his companion.

When he did, his heart nearly stopped.

Sheik was looking at him, her head tilted to one side, her long, wrapped blade sliding along one shoulder, and her eyes—

Her red eyes, which Link was so used to seeing sharp and cutting and all-seeing—were soft, and gentle, and smiling at him.

Link could feel the tips of his ears tingling, and swallowed hard. Now was not the time.

“They say the strength of the hero is his courage,” she said, her voice softer than Link had ever heard it, and strangely musical, “And while that is true, I think they’re missing something.”

After a few second and a great heave on behalf of his brain, Link managed to get his tongue working enough to respond.

“Oh. What’s that?”

So it wasn’t the most intelligent response, but it was better than nothing.

Sheik reached out, and with one long finger, tapped Link right above his heart.

The instant her fingertip touched his tunic, Link’s lungs switched off. By some divine mercy or blessing, Sheik didn’t seem to notice. Link was going to take extra time to thank them tonight.

“The strength of the Hero,” Sheik said, her tone somewhere between solemn and smiling, and it sent a rush of warmth to Link’s gut. “Is his courage to be kind.”

There was a moment of silence. Link was staring cross-eyed down at her finger.

“O-oh.”

Din’s fire, where had the rest of his braincells fled, the cowards?

Before he could rally his fleeing faculties for a more intelligent sally, Sheik had stepped aside, bending over to scoop up Mask’s wayward gear.

“I’ll see you back at the tent.”

And with that, she was gone. Link’s lungs, equal cowards to his braincells, finally decided to start working again, and he let out a sigh, shaking his head.

Despite whatever that was, Link had more important things to deal with right now. Namely, his kid.

Link crouched down, eyeing the sprite. Mask had curled up into a tiny defensive ball, his shallow breathing and the light shivers that wracked him periodically making it clear that the kid’s sleep was anything but restful.

Still, when Link reached out and shook his shoulder, Mask barely stirred.

“Guess we’ll do this the hard way then,” the captain murmured, before he cracked a faint smile. “Though that’s rather par for the course when you’re concerned.”

And with that, Link unwrapped his scarf and carefully draped it over the kid’s shivering frame, bundling him up and into Link’s arms.

Mask stirred sleepily, before slumping against the Captain’s warmth, face buried in the elder’s shoulder.

Link felt his heart stir, a warmth he hadn’t truly felt since he was a kid.

“I guess, you gremlin of a sprite,” he murmured, hand protectively pressed against the kid’s head as he maneuvered to his feet, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

/\ - /\ - /\

By the time Link had made it back to his tent, moving slowly so as not to disturb his burden, Sheik had gotten everything set up. An extra cot, a little smaller than Link’s own, was set next to his, complete with a pillow, sheets, and what looked like a thick, warm quilt.

“Wow, you got this together quickly,” Link said, looking over it with a smile. “Thanks, Sheik.”

Sheik shrugged and ducked her head, sending the ornament at the end of her braid swinging. “I am glad to be of help.”

“Still,” Link said, carefully transferring his kid onto the cot, leaving him wrapped in the scarf. Hylia knows the kid need it more than him right now. “You went above and beyond. Where on earth did you get this blanket? This isn’t military-issue.”

“Oh.” Sheik ducked her head even further, shoulders rising against her ears, and she bent down to carefully pull the quilt up Mask’s neck, smoothing the hem tenderly.

“I… It’s mine. From my bedroll before I joined up with the army. I thought he’d need it way more than me.”

Link turned and stared at the sheikah. Her shoulders were still hunched defensively, but even in the flickering lantern-light of the tent, Link could make out that they were steadily turning a bright red.

Link felt the keese wings flicker to life in his stomach again, and what was worse, a resurgence of his utterly stupid desire to kiss her.

He really needed to get ahold of himself, before he did something truly idiotic.

Sheik, however, hadn’t noticed his hesitation, and instead leaned over and brushed her fingers through Mask’s bangs, murmuring some sort of blessing under her breath. Finally, she turned back to Link, the redness already gone from her ears and shoulders level once more.

Link wasn’t sure if he was more relieved… or disappointed.

“That boy is quite the handful, isn’t he?” She said, her voice rich with exasperated amusement.

Link let out a groan. “He’s a gremlin, is what he is. I’ve had my hands full with him, and now that I’m making sure he’ll be underfoot, I can only imagine it’s going to get worse.”

“Well,” She replied, with a quick tilt of her head that made his heart do funny, stupid things, “If your hands are full, how about if I lend you mine?”

Link blinked. “Pardon?”

She chuckled once, and tipped a nod at the sleeping huddle of child hero on the cot. “I’ll keep an eye on him too, so you won’t get overwhelmed. You certainly seem to need it.”

If Link weren’t such of mix of exhausted and relieved, he might have bristled at the insinuation he couldn’t handle it. As it was, he was merely grateful.

“Thanks,” he said with a sigh and a smile. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Well, then,” Sheik replied, and stuck a hand out. “Is it a deal?”

Link grinned wider, and took her hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

And that was the beginning of a beautiful partnership.

/\ - /\ - /\

Chapter Text

/\ - /\ - /\

Mask was really confused when he woke up. Last he checked, he’d gone to sleep next to his tree, but when he opened his eyes…

Well, this definitely wasn’t a tree.

In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion… Mask sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning, and took stock of his surroundings.

Yep. This had to be the captain’s tent.

Mask plucked disdainfully at the blue scarf that had been wrapped around him. There was no doubt.

Seriously! What did they think he was, some kind of child? He was a hero! He’d saved two whole countries, they didn’t need to coddle him like some kind of baby!

With a huff, Mask swung his legs over the edge of the cot and dropped down, trying to ignore the pang as he left the quilt behind. It had been really comfy—but he was nearly thirteen (mentally, anyway)! He didn’t need comfy!

So there!

And with that rousing pep talk, Mask screwed his face into his most impressive scowl and stomped across the tent, smacking the flap open. It wasn’t quite as satisfying as slamming open a door, but as tents didn’t have doors, it would have to do.

Despite this, the Captain didn’t look up. Mask folded his arms and scowled, waiting for the older man to take notice.

Unfortunately, it seemed the Captain was a little too absorbed in his cooking. And by cooking, Mask meant ‘frowning down into the stew pot as it begins to smell like something burning.”

Still, Mask waited a few more seconds, just to see if the Captain would notice. The Captain didn’t, being the utter incompetent that he was, so Mask took matters into his own hands.

“Hey! Stupidface! Just what did you think you were doing?”

The Captain’s head snapped up instantly.

He’d heard Mask stirring inside the tent, but despite the urge to go and talk to the kid, he knew better. He had to let Mask come to him, or all his effort would be for naught. Also, cooking was really hard and he needed to devote his attention to it.

But then Mask came to him, sooner than Link had hoped. He looked up from his task, taking in the sight of his charge.

The sprite was angry, that was for sure. Bright blue eyes glared out at Link from underneath lowered brows, a scowl twisted firmly on his face, though the effect was lessened by the general baby-ness of his features. Link hardly noticed that though.

For, despite Mask’s folded arms and scowl and angry stance, he was still wrapped up in Link’s scarf.

There was a warmth rising in his chest, something happy and fond and good that made Link bite his lip to hide a smile. He was pretty certain the sprite wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, he cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow.

“You wanted something?”

Blue eyes blazed with rage, but Mask further sabotaged the mature persona he strived for by stomping his foot. “I said, just what did you think you were doing, kidnapping me like that! I was just fine on my own.”

“You were sleeping under a tree.”

“I like trees!” Mask screeched, hands waving in frustration.

The Captain sucked on his teeth, trying to feel out the right words to say. He had to be careful—after all, he didn’t want Mask to yell at him, possibly bite him, and scurry away to hide in a tree.

If Link thought about it, Mask was basically a cat. A particularly gremlin-like cat, to be precise.

Unfortunately for Mask, Link had always liked cats.

“Trees are great places to camp underneath in a pinch,” He said slowly, feeling as if he were standing on the ice in the middle of Lake Hylia, trying to inch his way towards shore. “But this isn’t a pinch. Besides, if you have a tent to stay in, it’ll be a lot easier to find you if we need you for something, rather than having to chase down whatever tree you’ve picked out.”

The sprite’s glare lessened some, though his stance remained aggressive. “I’m not a child, I can take care of myself!” He bit out, scowl deepening once more.

From Link’s perspective, he looked very much like a child. Yes, Mask was, without question, incredibly skilled on the battlefield, and had undoubtedly gone through a lot of things no kid should have to, but that didn’t mean he was any less of a child. It didn’t mean he didn’t need good sleep, or warm clothes, or good food.

But Link couldn’t force Mask to accept his care. He could only ask and hope for the best.

“I know you can.” Link said at last, his tone serious. “You’re one of our most skilled fighters. Which is why we need to be able to find you right away if something happens and we need your strength.”

Mask’s shoulders loosed, his stance relaxing slightly. Encouraged, Link pressed on. “There’s also the matter of treason in the camp.”

Mask’s head tilted to one side. “What about it?”

Link leaned forward earnestly, folded arms pressed on his knees. “If you stay in my tent, I’ll have someone to watch my back. Strength in numbers, and all that. What do you say?”

That seemed to be the magic words, at last. The kid’s shoulders straightened and his chest puffed up, pleased with the recognition and responsibility. And Link was telling the truth—Mask was a hellion on the battlefield, clearly experienced in taking down monsters, and a worthy ally to have his back. Strength in numbers certainly was a benefit of sharing a tent, even if Link kept his main motivation prudently concealed.

Mask certainly wouldn’t appreciate knowing that Link wanted to keep him close, lest the traitorous soldiers decided to target another, smaller hero.

“All right,” Mask said finally. “I guess I’ll share your stupid tent.”

“My thanks,” Link said, finally letting a grin slip across his face, and stuck out a hand. “Partners?”

“Partners!” Mask shook the hand, and grinned back, an expression clear and bright as the sun. Link felt his heart jump at the sight, the fondness he felt for the kid squeezing his chest like a vice. Hylia, what he wouldn’t do to see this kid smile more.

The moment was broken, however, when Mask smirked and pointed behind him.

“So, what were you doing, practicing smoke signals or something?”

Link snapped around, only to see a plume of gray smoke rising above the cookpot. “Din’s fire!”

He snatched up the wooden spoon and stirred frantically, waving a hand to disperse the smoke., all to the chorus of Mask’s obnoxious laughter in the background. The smoke dissipated, and Link frowned down at the soup.

The more he stirred, the more blackened lumps of bean rose to the top of the broth. Link winced. Mask laughed all the harder at the expression on the captain’s face.

Link poked the soup despondently with the spoon. He knew he wasn’t the greatest at cooking, but he was hoping to make something decently edible for Mask—only Hylia knows how much the kid was eating.

He scooped up a bit and ate it—instantly, an acrid, charred taste coated his tongue, and he coughed.

Link shot a quelling glare at Mask, who unfortunately refused to be quelled.

This couldn’t get any worse.

“What in the golden goddesses are you doing?”

Link stood corrected.

“Breakfast.” He snarked, without turning around. “What does it look like?”

“An abomination.” Sheik said flatly.

Ouch.

“Oh, come on,” Link protested, finally turning his head to look at their visitor. She was standing there, arms filled up with what Link assumed was her morning ration, probably on her way back to her tent. It was just his luck her tent was just a little further down the row. “It’s not that bad, right?”

Sheik slowly raised an eyebrow, and shifted some of her burden over to free a hand. With an elegant gesture, she held out a hand expectingly.

Link knew what she wanted, and quickly wracked his brains for a way to avoid the situation. Before he could come up with anything plausible, though, Mask made his move. In a blur of movement, the gremlin had snatched the spoon out of Link’s unsuspecting hand, scooped up some of the soup, and presented it to Sheik.

Link gaped at the betrayal, too stunned to say anything.

Sheik, meanwhile, calmly set down her rations and half-turned away to eat in privacy.

The second crawled by, slow as molasses and thick with tension.

Sheik turned back and handed him the spoon.

“It is that bad, yes.”

“HA!”

Link groaned and cradled his head in his hands. With both Mask and Sheik ganging up on him, there was nothing he could do. Might as well surrender gracefully before they tore him to shreds like the cuccos they were.

Somebody dropped down next to him, an elbow gently jostling his side. “Move. I’m taking over.”

Link’s head snapped up in surprise, but he did as instructed, shuffling aside almost unconsciously. “Wait, what? You don’t have to—”

“Clearly I do, if I don’t want the both of you to starve to death.” Sheik huffed, her tone amused. “You can’t exist on charcoal.”

“Rude.” Link swept a hand through his hair, sending Sheik his best betrayed look. Sheik, unfortunately seemed to be immune. “Only little bits are charred! Besides, charcoal is good for you.”

That stopped Sheik in her tracks. Slowly she turned to fix Link with her one visible red eye.

“It’s good for the teeth, not the stomach.”

“Exactly!” Link proclaimed, frantically trying to defend himself. “So if it’s in the soup, it’s like a two-for-one deal! You can clean your teeth and fill your stomach at the same time.”

…perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut.

Considering the way Sheik and Mask were staring at them, Link decided to upgrade the ‘perhaps’ to a ‘definitely’. He wondered what Impa would do to his ghost if he gave into the urge to crawl away and die in a hole.

“That aside,” Sheik drawled, “Mask, I need you to run to the cook tent and ask to borrow some vinegar.”

Mask’s head popped up from where he was sitting, checking through some of his gear. “What? Why’d ya need something like that?”

“You’ll see,” she replied, as smoothly mysterious as ever.

That seemed good enough for Mask, so he set aside the arrows he was inspected and stood up. Before he could walk away though, a thought crossed Link’s mind, and he held up a hand. “Hold up a second!”

Mask turned back and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow scornfully. “What is it, Mr. Two-for-one-soup?”

That hurt. Link would certainly never suffer from a bloated ego with Mask standing by to smack it down. “Proxi’s sleeping inside the tent—wake her up and take her with you. She’ll help you out if any of the cooks give you a hard time.”

Link was expecting a bit of a battle to get the sprite to agree—if there was one thing the boy hated, it was the concept of needing minders. To Link’s surprise, however, the kid’s face lit up, and he ran inside the tent to fetch the fairy.  

Huh.

Maybe Link needed to utilize Proxi more often where Mask was concerned.

A few minutes later, Mask popped out of the tent, a still sleepy Proxi resting on his shoulder. She’d tired herself out zipping back and forth in search of Mask the day before.

They had gone only a few feet when the Captain’s voice cut through the cheerful chatter.

“Hey, kid!”

Mask stopped and sent an annoyed look over his shoulder. Link merely grinned back at him. “You have something that belongs to me.

Link watched with great relish as the realization he was still wrapped in a royal blue scarf crossed over Mask’s face. Within moments his entire his entire face up to the tips of his ears turned the same shade as a red chuchu, though whether it was embarrassment or sheer rage, Link didn’t know.

Mask certainly wanted him to think it was rage, if the scarf smacking Link in the face to the tune of a string of shrill, very unflattering words was anything to go boy.

Link tugged the scarf away just in time to see a tiny green hero stomp off around the corner, and grinned in triumph.

“Very nice.” Sheik said dryly, and Link turned to see her tearing up her portion of salted pork to add to the soup.

“Why, thank you.” Link winked as he arranged the scarf decently about his shoulders. “It’s an uphill battle to get my own back against that gremlin, I tell you.”

Sheik laughed. It was a very nice laugh, all-musical-like, like the harp she wielded in battle, and the sound made Link’s traitorous heart skip a beat.

She turned slightly to look at him, and Link found his gaze focusing on the way her braid slid over her shoulder, the golden ornament at the end glinting in the light of the fire and the early morning. He swallowed hard, and glanced up at her eyes, but that was even worse. They were soft and kind, and made Link’s heart feel all sorts of things that he didn’t have time for.

“You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

Link’s smile softened, and he looked down at his scarf, smoothing his palm over the familiar blue fabric. “Yeah. It’s hard not too. He worms his way into your heart, like a particularly nasty parasite, and then you’re stuck with lov—looking after him forever. You can’t help it, and you can’t get rid of it. You’re stuck with him.” His gazed fixed on his fingers, fidgeting with the end of his scarf, trying to avoid Sheik’s eyes. They always saw too much, and Link had let out more of his feelings than he’d planned.

He’d really been sticking his foot in his mouth today, hadn’t he? At least he managed to get Mask to agree to stay in the tent before all his braincells abandoned him.

“The captain protests too much, I think,” Sheik said, her gaze fixed on the soup as she stirred, expression hidden behind the mask. A good thing too, because Link would have put down a purple that she was laughing at him behind her wraps.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Link shot back, running his fingers through his bangs artistically. Sheik didn’t respond, but he could see her shoulders quivering faintly from suppressed laughter.

“Oi, are you laughing at me?”

When she spoke, her voice was as calm as ever, but her visible eye danced. “Now why on earth would I do that?”

Link rolled his eyes and nudged her shoulder with his. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” But he felt a grin crack on his own face as he did so.

The rest of the wait was spent in companionable silence, with Sheik carefully adding her rations to the pot while Link focused on fixing a tear in one of his tunics. Then, at last Mask returned, carrying a small glass bottle of vinegar while Proxi swirled about triumphantly.

“Mission accomplished!” She chirped, swirling around Mask’s head, and the boy presented the bottle with a little mocking bow.

“Vinegar, as requested!”

“Thank you, young hero,” Sheik said, and accepted the bottle. She uncorked it, sniffed (Link winced at the thought, but she was wearing a mask, so perhaps that took the edge off), and then proceeded to carefully add it to the soup, stirring as she poured.

Link and Mask leaned curiously closer. “What’s that supposed to do?” Mask asked.

“You will see.” Was all Sheik said, calmly continuing to stir.

Mask rolled his eyes. “That’s what you said last time.”

“Well then, rejoice, for your hour of understanding is at hand.” Sheik said, with an arched eyebrow, and held out a hand. “Your bowl?”

The boy blinked. “Wait, I’m getting some of the soup?”

Both of the adults stared at the kid in front of them. “I… made it with your ration and mine at the beginning.” Link said, slowly, “I thought you knew?”

Mask shook his head, eyes wide. “No? I was waiting until you were done… why…” He stared down at the pot, before his racing emotions decided to settle on their old fail-safe, anger. Blue eyes suddenly glared at Link. “I’m not a child, you don’t have to baby me like some helpless little kid.”

Link opened and closed his mouth a couple times, scrambling frantically for something to say. Luckily, Sheik came to his rescue.

“Then, if you are not a child, eat and continue to grow strong.” Her hand was still held out insistingly, and her gaze was intense, but her voice was gentle. “The Captain feels no shame in accepting help; that is a hallmark of maturity.”

Mask’s lips pressed together, and the sheikah and the hero stared at each other. Finally, the twisting thoughts behind the young hero’s eyes seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, and he rummaged through his bag and pulled out his bowl, shoving it carelessly into Sheik’s hand.

“Fine then,” He grumbled. “But it better taste good.”

“I assure you,” the sheikah replied, “I, at least, am a consummate cook.”

She carefully spooned the soup into bowls, and then picked up their slices of bread, which had been set by the fire to warm, and so the meal was divvied out. Link and Mask sat with their bowls in their laps, staring at it suspiciously.

Sheik watched them, chin propped on her fist. Finally, after close to a minute of no one making a move, she gestured elegantly with her free hand. “I was not aware that heroes of courage were afraid of something so simple as a little soup.”

Well, that rankled, so Link snatched up his spoon and shoved it into his mouth. Just as he expected it—wait.

Wait, that was actually good. He didn’t taste any burden bits! He’d seen Sheik remove the charred chunks, but from experience Link knew that did absolutely nothing to get rid of the taste. How?,,,

Sheik watched Mask shovel the soup into his mouth as quickly as if he were wearing his bunny hood, a pleased expression to the set of her eyes. When she spoke, her tone was even as usual, but Link could swear he could detect hints of smugness. “The vinegar removes the taste.”

Link ate another bit, staring down at the bowl thoughtfully. Vinegar, huh? He shook his head, a slow smile crossing his face. “What would we do without you, always coming to the rescue?”

“Die, probably, if it was you.” Mask smirked. “I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, really? Is that how it is?” Link swiveled in his seat. “I’d like to see you cook something edible and prove it.”

The kid sniffed and turned his nose up in the air. “I don’t wanna waste any of my food on an idiot like you.”

Link carefully set his bowl aside. “Come here and say that to my face, you gremlin—”

“Gladly!” Mask turned his face back towards Link and stuck his tongue out, “Impa would court martial me if I wasted valuable army resources on an ugly—”

Link lunged. Mask was expecting this and dodged at the last second, scrambling to his feet and sprinting away, the captain hot on his heels, both yelling at the top of their lungs.

Sheik stayed behind, taking advantage of their distraction to eat in peace.

All in all, she mused, a very successful part to their partnership.

/\ - /\ - /\

Chapter Text

/\ - /\ - /\

Link was babying him. Mask knew the Captain thought he was being subtle, but Mask could tell. Sharing the tent, sending Proxi to keep him company, the hair ruffles and shoulder pats and the smuggled candy, always lending his scarf…

Mask huffed. He was a hero, not some kind of toddler in need of constant care.

Still… it was, well… it wasn’t like Mask hated it. But still. He couldn’t just take it lying down. Some form of protest had to be made, or the dumb captain would think he could get away with anything!

So, Mask formed a plan. Well, half of a plan. Really it was mostly wishful thinking at the moment, because he didn’t know how to pull it off. He had a way to fix that, though, and he knew just who to ask.

Sheik was sitting in her tent, carefully going over each of her kunai, checking to make sure all were sharp and in order. She didn’t look up when Mask paused at the entrance to her tent, but she flicked a finger in a beckoning gesture.

Mask seized the opportunity and slipped inside, plopping down on her spare stool and drumming his heels against the ground in excitement. After a moment, Sheik put aside the kunai she had been examining and looked up, her eyes and eyebrows creasing in such a way that Mask was sure she was smiling.

“What can I do for you, young hero?”

Now, here Mask would have to tread carefully. He wasn’t sure what Sheik would do if she found out the true purpose of his village, so it was best to try and avoid finding out. “So, I was wondering… when you attack with the songs on your harp, how do you focus it on an enemy?”

“Hmmm?” A delicate eyebrow shot up. “And why do you want to know?”

“Just wanna try something.”

Sheik nodded slowly, and Mask hoped she bought it.

Probably not, though. Sheik was really good at knowing things, not that it was a surprise considering… well, considering her nature.

Though Mask was pretty sure he was the only one who knew that.

“Would you like me to teach you?”

Mask grinned. Everything was going according to plan.

/\ - /\ - /\

“Everything has an aura, and that is especially true of people.” Sheik explained, lightly strumming her harp. “If you can find that aura and latch on the threads of your magic onto it, the magic will naturally be directed and cling to that person alone.”

Mask blinked down at his ocarina. “Really? Is that it?”

Sheik probably-smiled at him again, and tipped her head forward in a nod. “That’s it. It’s not terribly complicated. However, one of the benefits of music-magic is that it can have a wide area of effect, so targeting isn’t often taught. Still, wide area of effects can hurt your own troops if you aren’t careful, so I think it’s a good thing to learn anyway.”

“That makes sense.” Mask said, then glanced up at Sheik. “How can I practice, though?”

“Welll…” Sheik hummed thoughtfully. “I have my water shield, which will protect me. You can try and focus it on me, and see how you do.”

“You don’t need that,” Mask scoffed. “Just an umbrella.”

The sheikah raised an eyebrow. “An umbrella.”

Mask nodded, trying his best to smile innocently.

“Very well.” Sheik said, and stood up, setting her harp aside. “Stay right here and watch over my harp, if you will. I will be back shortly.”

She kept her word and returned a few minutes later Agitha’s parasol in hand. Mask eyed the flimsy thing suspiciously.

Sheik shrugged. “This was the closest I could find. She claimed it was waterproofed…”

“Well, we can test that out, too.” Mask said. “Ready?”

Sheik lifted the parasol above her head. “Ready.”

Mask lifted the ocarina to his lips, fingers seeking out the correct holes, and squinted his eyes shut, trying to do what Sheik had said. To seek out the aura, and direct the magic towards it.

“Think of it like you’re playing the song just for me.” Sheik called out. “That might help.”

Mask took a deep breath and focused on Sheik like she said, reaching out towards the sheikah with that part of him that resonated with music and masks and three blessings—and he felt it.

A faint warmth and power, a mix of light and shadow blended together like a sunrise, hovering at the edge of his awareness. Mask seized ahold of that aura, and threw all his focus towards it… and played.

Rain poured down… in a neat circle about three feet in diameter, entirely focused on where Sheik stood.

They stared at each other in silence, before Mask flung his arms up in the air and let out a loud whoop, dancing around in victory.

“I DID IT!”

Sheik watched him from the shelter of Agitha’s parasol, which luckily did seem to be waterproofed. After another minute, the rain died off, and Sheik carefully shook off the parasol and closed it.

Then she glanced up and speared Mask with her red eyes, but unlike many times Mask found himself beneath her gaze, he didn’t feel as if she was somehow seeing and divining all his secrets.

Instead, he just felt… happy. Like she was smiling at him.

“Well done.” She said, tipping her head to one side, eyes creasing happily. “I knew you could do it, and I am very proud.”

Mask felt something welling up in his chest, something so bright and warm that he felt like his chest would burst. That wouldn’t do, however, so he pushed it down hard.

Still, no matter how hard he pushed, it was still there. Smaller, maybe, and more contained; but bright and warm nevertheless.

“Only cause of your expert teaching,” Mask said, even if his proudly puffed up chest denied his attempts at humility.

“To teach is useless without a student,” Sheik countered, and placed a hand on his head, ruffling it gently. Mask grinned up at her.

It was a good day, he’d learned a new skill, figured out how to pull of his prank safely, and successfully distracted Sheik.

“Now, was that rain song the one you were planning to play for our esteemed Captain?”

Correction: he had not successfully distracted Sheik. Din’s fire.

Mask adverted his gaze sheepishly. “I… uh…” Normally he could rattle off excuses like no one’s business, but between Sheik’s hand resting gently on his head and her red eyes boring into him like a beamos' beam, Mask was coming up dry.

Was it a Sheikah training trait? Cause he swore, the only other person who could be this terrifying was Impa.

Still, he was the hero of time! He’d gotten himself out of stickier situations before, he’d be able to come up with some clever reply—

“…Maybe?”

So much for a clever reply.

Sheik eyed him carefully, and Mask began to sweat nervously. He had no idea what Sheik’s opinions on pranks were, and if she tattled on him… well, he wouldn’t get the pleasure of seeing the captain look like a drenched dog, that’s for sure.

Finally, after a long, long moment, she spoke.

“Then…” She said slowly, “Why don’t you teach me that rain song of your as well? It’s more fun to play music with a friend.”

Mask blinked.

Stared.

Blinked again.

“Wait… are you going to help me?”

Sheik picked up her harp and stood at the ready, a twinkle in the depths of her red eyes. “It sounds like fun, and it’s been a while since I’ve had that… so, why not?”

That warm spot in his chest expanded again, and this time Mask didn’t bother to try and shove it down. Instead, he lifted the ocarina to his lips, carefully locking away his magic so he wouldn’t accidentally start a rainstorm. “Okay. It goes like this…”

He played the spinning rhythm of the notes, and Sheik followed along dutifully, fingers flying over harp strings to match his dancing over the ocarina’s holes. Sheik was, as expected, incredibly skilled, and it wasn’t long at all before she was confidently accompanying him.

“So,” Sheik said, lowering the harp as they completed the song once more. “How am I doing, teacher?”

“Great job!” Mask grinned sharply, anticipating bouncing his toes. “It’s time to try it out!”

/\ - /\ - /\

Link was having a pretty good day, over all. Sure, he’d burned his and Mask’s bread this morning trying to heat it up like Sheik had showed him, but the soup had come out basically edible. His soldiers were cooperating, the latest reports had good news, and Impa hadn’t stuck him with one of her terrifying glares so far, so… yeah. All in all, a pretty good day.

What’s more, it was a lovely day to conduct sword drills. The sky was bright and clear, the air fresh, the ground firm and the temperature pleasant.

Link took a deep, bracing breath of dust and grass and forest. Yes, a very good day indeed.

Still… he hadn’t seen Mask since this morning. And no Mask was generally not a good sign, considering his kid’s aptitude for mischief. But then again, Link hadn’t heard any sort of commotion in the rest of the camp, so maybe Mask was simply off playing in the forest or taking a nap or somesuch.

Which was good, kids should have plenty of time to relax and play… still. Link did miss the kid a little, gremlin though he may be…

A raindrop fell on his nose.

Huh? There’s not a cloud in sight, that doesn’t make sense—

The torrential downpour that followed didn’t make any sense, either. Well, as long as you considered natural causes.

Link, however, knew exactly what sort of causes to consider. Specifically, gremlin causes.

Water dripped from his nose as he seethed for a good five seconds. Finally Link angrily slapped his dripping, matted bangs out of his eyes and hauled his sopping scarf back over his shoulder before it could fall into the mud, and took a deep, deep breath.

“MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASK!”

/\ - /\ - /\

Mask giggled from his perch in a nearby, swinging his legs happily. “That was great!”

Sheik huffed softly in amusement. “It was certainly entertaining.” She peered out between the branches and let out another soft laugh as the Captain continued to screech in rage. “His face especially.””

“I know!” Mask’s grinned. “He looked like a drowned cat!”

They paused to listen to more screeching.

“We definitely have to do this again sometime.”

/\ - /\ - /\