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Chapter Text

Time shifts, adjusting his shirt collar and nodding to a soldier who passes by, trying not to show his discomfort. Big events like this have never suited him and the stiff fabric of his outfit is becoming more unbearable with every second. He spares a glance at Twilight, who looks about as pleasant as a cucoo. His protege is hiding a grimace while greeting an older noblewoman, who sneers a bit at his accent then moves on to greet Time as well. He smiles politely, commenting on the pendent hung around her neck, and the woman thanks him and waves a hand through the air, gesturing to the event around them.

“Oh, but isn’t it just lovely,” she breathes, her words laced with an air of longing. She sighs, delicately exaggerated; her shoulders rise and fall so that the lace adorning them billows out like wings of some exotic bird. She glances at Time from beneath long lashes, eyes roaming across the laces of the borrowed blouse he’s wearing. Time clears his throat, avoiding her eyes as he smiles and nods to the surrounding crowd.

“Yes, lovely,” he swallows thickly and wishes Malon were standing beside him. His gaze drifts. The courtyard is filled with people, mulling about it their finest attire. He can see Sky a ways off, sipping something light and fizzy from a glass, chatting to a young man in uniform.

“Ahem.”

Time’s attention is drawn back to the woman in front of him. She is staring at him intently.

“Don’t you just,” she glances down. “…love coronations…”

Time leans back slightly, and glances at Twilight out of the corner of his eye. His protege is watching him with wide eyes, a mixture of amusement and concern in his face. Time fumbles for words.

“Err, yes. Lovely… um, how do you know the… prince…”

The woman seems unimpressed by his response, but she covers it with another wave of her hand. Time can smell her perfume; a mixture of roses and lavender.

“I’m the sister of one of his advisors,” she says, her chest puffing slightly at the declaration. She smiles, the barest sliver of teeth showing through thin lips. “And how, may I ask, are you acquainted with our dear prince…?”

Twilight, in all his grace, chooses now to break in, hastily explaining their earlier escapade in escorting the prince’s caravan through dangerous territory. The boy (because that’s really all the prince was, a boy) had been more than grateful, and maybe a little star struck, and had insisted they come to his coronation that night. The heroes had tried to refuse, keen on getting back to their quest, but the prince had been so excited and well, as Sky had put it earlier, didn’t they deserve a little bit of a break, if only for a night?

The woman is taken aback by Twilight’s sudden reappearance and Time uses the opportunity to pretend as if he’s seen someone, politely excusing himself from the conversation and leading Twilight away to the other end of the courtyard. He can feel the woman’s stare on his back. They end up next to an ornate fountain depicting a Great Fairy and her followers, letting out simultaneous sighs as the misted spray coming off of it cools their heads. Time looks around, intent on getting himself a glass of whatever Sky had been drinking earlier, when he feels a tap on his arm.

Wind is staring up at him with desperate eyes. He’s dressed to the nines like the rest of them, stuffed into borrowed clothes (probably those of the prince himself), with his usually windswept hair slicked back with some kind of harsh smelling gel. The ruffles around his neck bob up and down as he turns his head, making sure nobody’s watching. He looks absolutely miserable.

“Time, please tell me this is gonna be over soon,” he hisses, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. Behind him, Time can hear Twilight snort into his hand, but he tries to keep a straight face for Wind’s sake.

“Soon,” he tells him, though it’s a bit of a lie. The young prince hasn’t even made an appearance yet, but Time suspects that they’ll be gone soon after that anyways. Stay long enough so that people know you were there, and then make a hasty retreat.

Wind doesn’t seem too content with his answer regardless, bouncing on his toes as Time sighs and looks around. Sky has been joined by Hyrule and, together, they seem to be telling a wildly animated story to some young soldiers. Warriors is nowhere to be found, but Time is too surprised; he’d seen him earlier surrounded by a flock of young woman, showing off his scarf and sword. Legend and Four have planted themselves next to a table overflowing with lavish bowls of fruit and platters of hors d'oeuvres and Time holds back a groan as he watches Legend stuff some into his bag while Four keeps watch. Time tears his gaze away, reminding himself to confront them on it later, and searches the crowd; as for Wild, he’s…

“By the way, have you seen Wild,” Wind mutters, staring murderously down at his shoes. “I’ve been looking for him everywhere ‘cause I figured he’d understand my plight.”

Time nods in agreement, still searching the crowd, but their local survivalist is nowhere to be found. He turns to Twilight, who he realizes now is also searching.

“You haven’t seen him, have you?”

Twilight shakes his head and Time catches the nervous downturn of his lips.

“Nah, I was just ‘boutta ask ya…”

Wind scowls.

“I swear to Hylia if he ditched and left the rest of us here to-”

He’s interrupted by the shrill laugh of a young woman. The three of them turn; she’s bent backwards, a hand on her chest as she laughs, her pale pink gown glimmering in the surrounding lights. She straightens, fanning herself as she turns back to her conversation. Next to Time, Twilight makes a strangled noise.

Wild is standing in front of the woman, poised and polished, the barest hint of a smile adorning his features; he reaches a hand out in offering to the young lady, as if to steady her, but does not touch her, his other hand resting behind his back. His long hair has been pulled back so that only his bangs frame his face, peeking out from beneath a dark blue cap, with a matching ribbon weaving between the intricate braid that falls down his back. He’s in a uniform that fits too well to be borrowed. He says something, too quiet to hear, but Time winces when the woman laughs again. Wild has no such reaction. Instead, he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side and then he bows, perfectly balanced, before straightening up and excusing himself. The woman lets him go, a soft blush painting her features, and Wild turns on his heels and glides away. He looks, to Time, the epitome of a soldier.

“Hylia,” Wind breathes, followed by an expletive that Time mercifully ignores. “That’s disturbing.”

Time has to agree. Wild weaves through the crowd, the dark blue of his uniform a stark contrast to the mostly pale palette of the crowd; his smile is gone, replaced by something more stoic. He mostly ignores those around him, stopping only when stopped, and then moving on. Yet, at the same time, he makes it so that there is no rush to his pace. He has nowhere to go. Instead, he walks purposefully without purpose, the slightly raised heels of his tall white boots clicking melodically on the stone of the courtyard. And it is disturbing.

This is not the Wild Time knows. Twilight shifts beside him, an unreadable look on his face. The Wild Time knows is a force of nature, a tumultuous mix of turbulent energy and stormy calm, like the eye of a raging storm.

There is no storm in this Wild; no violent passion or unrestrained will. Even the nervous fire that Time has sometimes seen in quiet hours of early morning is gone, replaced by some baleful presence that Time cannot name; it lurks beneath the surface of Wild’s impassive expression, hidden away with every simple smile and bow he makes as he sinks in and out of the crowd, bobbing into view like a boat on the horizon.

He is a walking contradiction, his back stiff but his movements fluid. A sword, its colors paired perfectly with his uniform, hangs at Wild’s side and he keeps a hand on its pommel at all times, taking it off only to shake hands and play the part of refined soldier and guest.

And that’s what it is, Time realizes. An act. A part to be played until the show ends. Wild turns, accepting a glass from a young servant and the capelet around his shoulders flutters lightly. He does not drink from glass; instead it becomes a prop which he uses to gesture lightly to the gardens and fountains as he makes light conversation with the servant, who in turn seems beyond flustered. Wild lets him go after a minute, releasing him back into the crowd with a curt nod, and the boy scurries off as if he’s been given an order, back stiff as he disappears into the crowd. Wild places his glass on a nearby table and, as he straightens up, Time meets his eyes.

Wild holds his gaze with eerie composure and Time can see a flash of whatever’s hiding beneath the surface; Time doesn’t know all that occurred before Wild’s fated sleep, but the flicker of torment tells him enough. There’s a bitterness there. Wild plays this part with a familiarity Time himself doesn’t have; he thinks maybe Warriors could come the closest. But this is more than just a soldier; this is almost royalty, a soldier so close to nobility that the distinction is practically blurred; you might just mistake him for a prince, if not for the uniform. Someone who lived their life solely for the crown under which they served, and gave it away in the end.

The sober distinction that pervades Wild in this moment makes Time lower his gaze without thinking, and he almost misses the sigh Twilight releases as he stalks towards his protege. Time cannot hear what they say, but he sees Wild’s shoulder drop, if only for a second, as he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face. He sees Twilight reach out, grasping Wild’s arm.

Someone sighs and Time realizes Wind is still beside him, watching as well, and Time feels him lean ever so slightly into his side. He places a hand on the younger’s shoulder.

“Soon,” he says.

Chapter Text

Time sighs and leans his head back against the stone wall behind him, mindful of its uneven surface, and closes his eyes.  The weight beside him shifts, and he glances down to look as Wild grimaces his sleep; the younger’s forehead is coated in a sheen sweat, and he whimpers pitifully without waking.  Time lifts a hand, letting it hover for a moment, before he runs it through Wild’s damp bangs.  Wild flinches.

“Easy, Cub,” Time murmurs.  “You’re alright… it’s gonna be alright.”  

Whether Wild is aware of what he’s saying or not, Time isn’t sure, but the he stills beneath Time’s touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and Time tries not to let the worry that’s building in his stomach move into his chest.  Twilight still hasn’t returned from his little scouting trip around the dungeon and Time’s starting to wondering if he should stay put with Wild, or go find his protege.  

On one hand, he doesn’t want to leave Wild alone, at all.

On the other, if Twilight’s in trouble…

Time growls, dropping his head into the hand that isn’t currently tangled in Wild’s hair.  He wonders how the other’s are fairing;  getting separated in remains of old decrepit catacombs is the last thing any of them had planned on doing today and, if Time, Twilight, and Wild’s situation is anything to go by, the rest of the group probably isn’t doing great.  Time removes his hand from Wild’s head to check the younger’s side; two puncture wounds sit neatly on Wild’s abdomen, the skin around them swollen and turning grey.  Time brushes his thumb over the wound, wincing at the heat radiating off the area.  Wild, for his part, doesn’t react; he simply draws in another breath, his chest lurching from the effort.      

The room around them is still, the carved stone walls moist from ground water that has seeped through from above.  The whole place reeks of mold and death, as if the three of them didn’t have enough to deal with already, and the tunnels leading out of the room are dark and foreboding.  Time shivers, from cold or apprehension he doesn’t know, and moves a little closer to Wild.  The room has been cleared, the remains of large snake-like monster lying crumpled near one of the exits, but Time is still tense.  He eyes the many tunnels, wary of whatever could appear from their depths.  

There’s a dripping noise coming from the snake and Time curls his lip as he watches whatever remains of its poison slowly slide down the length of its fangs, puddling beneath its head.  Beside him, Wild groans and Time curses himself for not being fast enough.  He doesn’t care that they’re all heroes in their own rights; he’s the eldest (technically speaking).  Deep down, he knows it’s his duty to lead them safely through this quest.  

The sound of something approaching from one of the tunnels forces Time to his feet, stepping in front of Wild and drawing his sword.  

Claws click on the stone floors of the catacombs, echoing around him, and Time hefts his blade, drawing a silent breathe and holding it.  The only other sound is the drip drip of poison.  

Whatever is coming stops, growing quiet, and then blue eyes pierce through the shadows and Time lets out his breath, shoulders dropping.  Twilight slips from the darkness and pads across the floor, his head low.  Time’s protege-turned-wolf glances at him, but passes him in favor of going to Wild.  He leans his head down, giving a cursory sniff and nudging his own protege’s cheek.  Wild’s head lolls with the movement, but only ends up limply falling to side once again.  Twilight whines in frustration, looking back at Time.  Time shakes his head.  

“No change,”  he says quietly, watching as Twilight shifts back into his true form.  “If anything, he’s gotten worse.”  

Twilight doesn’t respond for a long while, crouched over Wild and staring at his face.  Wild’s skin is pale and, when Twilight places a hand gingerly on his cheek, rubbing a thumb under his eye, Time can see the way his face scrunches at the heat of the fever that is currently raging through Wild’s body.  Time sheathes his sword and sits back down with a sigh.  He watches Twilight, silent, and waits.  Finally, Twilight sits as well, lifting Wild gently and moving him so that his head rests on Twilight’s lap, before turning to Time.  

“Couldn’t find anything,” he mutters and scowls up at the arched ceilings.  “This place is a Hylia-damned maze.  No chests, no items… no potions…”  

“What about monsters?”

“Wolfos, redeads,” Twilight practically spits.  “Didn’t notice me as a wolf, but they’re gonna be pain to get past.”  

Time lets out a low curse, dropping his head forward.  They sit in the silence of their despair for what seems like forever, Twilight quietly running his hands through Wild’s hair as Time mulls over their situation.  More than once, they try to use Wild’s slate - to contact Wind or maybe teleport out - but neither of them really understand how it works and, in the end, the map only displays static.  Twilight growls in frustration, shoving the slate away into Time’s hands, opting instead to pull Wild to his chest and hold him there.  He doesn’t say anything, just stares miserably ahead.  In his arms, Wild is shivering.  

Time tinkers idly with the slate, skimming through its contents; anything to keep his mind occupied.  He goes through the inventory again, as if maybe one more check will produce a potion or elixir.  His efforts prove fruitless, so he sighs and continues.  He comes across Wild’s photos; some he’s already seen, Wild having taken some while on his journey with the rest of them.  Others are new.  Time finds himself scrolling through vast landscapes; fields that seem to go on forever and forests with trees so tall and wide they make the Lost Woods seem small in comparison.  It’s a visual map, a story of the places Wild has been on his travels.  Time continues, skimming through deserts and snowcapped mountains, until he reaches a picture with actual people; it’s a young woman with elegant blue robes adorning her body.  She’s pouting at the camera, clearly uncomfortable in her outfit.  Time spots the circlet around her head.  

“Oh,” he says softly and Twilight glances at him briefly.  Time flips through the next few photos, watching as Wild’s Zelda goes from pouting to laughing, clearly caught off guard by the pictures being taken of her.  Time huffs, the lightheartedness of the photos a stark contrast to the atmosphere around him.  Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Twilight looking as well.  He swipes again and stops.  

Wild stares back at him, a broad smile stretched across his face, pulling at the scars on his left side.  His arm is outstretched, catching Zelda by the sleeve as she tries to escape.  He’s laughing.  

Twilight makes a strangled noise, turning away and cradling Wild closer.  Time puts down the slate and they fall into silence once more.  

Time feels like there’s a storm brewing somewhere behind him; an army gathering.  The tension in the room is palpable and every movement from Twilight and every groan from Wild sets Time on edge.  He know’s Twilight feels the same, if the way he keep gripping tighter and tighter to Wild’s tunic is anything to go by.  Time taps his feet, Twilight grinds his teeth, and Wild slips further and further.  They’re waiting, but for what, Time doesn’t know.  He counts his breaths and the seconds that go by and tries to figure out what to do next.  

Wild, apparently, has the answer and decides to stop breathing.  

Time startles as Twilight jerks beside him, a strangled cry pushing past his lips as he dumps Wild onto the ground and leans over him, ear to his protege’s chest.  Time leans over as well, his stomach dropping like a stone as Wild remains still.  Twilight pulls back, his eyes wide.

“No… no no no,” he lurches forward, fist coming down to pound on Wild’s chest.  “C’mon, c’mon!”  

Time kneels on the cold stone, helpless.  He hands come up, as if to reach out, but then he find’s that there’s nothing for him to do but watch as Twilight tries again and again to get Wild breathing.  Time’s feels his own breath catch.  

“C’mon,” he murmurs, staring at Wild’s face.  “C’mon, Cub…”  

When Wild doesn’t respond, Time deflates, defeated.  His chest is tight with emotion and he swallows.  Twilight is still working, teeth gritted and eyes hard.  Time tries to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him ‘that’s enough,’ but chokes on the words.  

“Twilight…” he tries.  “Pup, please it’s… it’s too-”

Wild jerks beneath Twilight’s hands, a choked gasp escaping past his lips.  

Twilight immediately pulls him upward, murmuring encouragements.  Wild’s still unconscious, his head flopping forward, but the ragged breaths he’s taking in are unmistakable.  Time is frozen, staring at his proteges, before he finally moves closer as well and slips his arm around Wild’s back.  Together he and Twilight sit together, supporting Wild between them.  Twilight looks up at him, fear and relief mixing together in his face and Time realizes with growing horror that he’s looking for guidance; he want’s Time to tell him what to do, and Time’s not sure he can.  Wild lets out a low moan.  His fever is still there, but he’s gone past shivering.  Time ducks his head, looking at where his hand grips Wild’s firmly.

“I… I don’t think he’s going to get better.”  Time glances at Twilight.  “I’m sorry.”

Twilight doesn’t respond, just sets his jaw and pulls Wild away from Time.  Time lets him.  He can see the anger and sorrow in Twilight’s face as he rests his cheek on the crown of Wild’s head.  

*****

*****

Twilight falls asleep in what has to be the most uncomfortable position Time has ever seen; he’s sitting with his knees drawn up, leaning over Wild, who is cradled to his chest.  If it hadn’t been for their hopeless situation, Time might’ve found it cute.  Maybe snuck a picture on Wild’s slate now that he knows how.  Instead he leans in close, one arm around Twilight’s shoulders and the other placed to that his hand rests on Wild’s chest.  Wild’s breathing quiet and slow and too far apart.  Time counts each beat beneath his palm.    

And he waits.  

He knows it’s going to happen soon and tries to accept it.  He promises himself he won’t fall asleep; for Wild’s sake he’ll keep vigil, be there till the bitter end.  

He’s glad Twilight’s out at least, though he know’s his protege will hate him for letting him fall asleep.  Time will take this one; he’s the eldest after all.  

He sighs, and closes his eyes.  It’s going to be alright.  It’s going to hurt, but in the end it’ll be alright.  He’ll tell the others.  And they’ll have to find a way to tell Wild’s Zelda.  

Goddesses above it’s going to suck, but they’ll do it.  They’ll get through it.  

Time repeats it like a mantra in his head.  He almost thinks he might believe it.  

It’ll be alright.

It’s quiet when the beating beneath his hand finally stops.  

The realization and the pain arrive at the same time an explosion rocks the room and the tunnel across the room caves in.  

Twilight wakes with a start, clutching Wild close.  Time doesn’t know the exact moment he realizes that his protege’s gone, because seconds later Time is sent flying backwards.  He looks up to see Twilight pinned against the wall, struggling in the grasp of some giant creature.  Wild’s body lays at his feet.  

The creature - a wolfos, Time realizes belated - bites down over Twilight’s shoulder.  Twilight howls, pain and grief mixing in his voice as he kicks at the creature.  The wolfos growls in response and Time sees blood began to soak through his protege’s tunic.  

“No!”  Time yells and launches himself forward, barreling into the wolfos and sending both of them toppling over each other.  They tussle on the ground, punching and clawing at each other.  Time feels claws rake across his arm and he struggles for his sword, crying out as the monster takes another swipe at his chest.  There’s another cry and then suddenly Twilight is there, swing downward with his sword.  It catches the creatures side and it leaps away, shrieking.  Time stumbles to his feet.  Twilight says nothing; his eyes are red and Time can see the fury and pain behind them.  Before them, the wolfos staggers upwards and roars, it’s voice echoing off the walls around them.  It growls low and guttural.

Time steals himself and charges.  

He fights without thinking - if he starts thinking he’s not going to be able to keep going - swinging and dodging on reflex alone.  He’s mildly aware of Twilight beside him, much more vocal as he curses the monster and the catacombs and the goddesses alike.  There’s a crash to his left and more figures appear and he shouts in frustration as the room is suddenly filled with more howls.  Something grabs the straps of his armor and he’s yanked back, hitting the ground with a force strong enough that he feels his ribs crack painfully.  He spits blood and tries to stand, but there’s something pressing down on his chest.  He jerks; the sharp pain in his ribs causes his vision to dip and he feels blood in his mouth and throat.  Time chokes.  He can faintly hear Twilight cry out in pain and feels rage and fear explode in his chest.  (Maybe it’s his lungs.  It might be his lungs.)  

His vision dips to black again and Time panics.  He drops his sword, the clang of metal on stone ringing in his ears for far longer than it should.  Twilight screams something, but the world is too muffled for him to make it out.    

He doesn’t think of much; not of Malon or Twilight or the others.  An image of Wild laughing flits through his mind, briefly, but he can’t remember where it’s from.  

Instead his breath cuts off as blood fills his airway and the world around him glows blue.  

There is quiet.  And blue.  

And then the weight on his chest is gone in an instant and the silence is broken by the strangled cries of a wolfos.  Time gasps, rolling over onto his side and coughing blood.  His vision clears with his first gulp of air and he stares at the ground, panic and adrenaline still racing through his system.  He shakes his head and looks up.  

The first thing he sees is Twilight, slack jawed and kneeling on the ground as if his legs have collapsed beneath him.  He doesn’t notice Time, too focused on whatever has him shocked into silence.

The second thing Time sees is the wolfos.  It’s lying, crumpled on the ground in front him, three arrows sprouting from it’s neck.  It gurgles, air hissing through its open wounds as it struggles to breathe, and the other wolfos in the room stumble back.  A few of them try to step forward, but are instantly downed with expert precision.  

The third thing Time sees is a pair of boots that come to stand in front of him, blocking his view of the battle.  They’re familiar and Time reels.  

“You okay?”

Time lifts his head slowly.  Words have never come easy, but now they do not come at all.  Instead, he finds himself at the feet of his protege’s protege.  Wild stands above him, the pallor gone from his skin, a concerned smile on his face.  Time stutters, fumbling for words.  Wild gives him a look of understanding, before turning back to face the rest of their foes.  His bow glows gold in the dim light of the catacomb and Time uses it as an anchor; he can’t look at Wild right now, thoughts still spinning.  

Wild looses arrows too fast for Time to keep track of, flitting about the room with the prowess of a wild animal.  Time tries to catch his breath, moving over to where Twilight is still watching his protege finish off what they couldn’t.  He doesn’t touch him, but his presence seems to be enough to jolt Twilight out of whatever shock has rendered him a helpless statue.  Twilight draws a shaky breath, glancing a Time for a second before returning his gaze to Wild.  

When the arrows are gone and only a few wolfos remain, Wild switches to a sword.  It’s blade glows blue the same way Wild’s special “ancient” arrows.  The wolfos are dead within minutes.

The room falls still again.  Wild stands in the middle of his carnage, very much alive, breathing hard with exertion.  He sheathes his sword and lets out a deep breath, before turning to them.  

“…Uh-”

Whatever he means to say is lost when Twilight barrels into him, practically lifting Wild off his feet.  Wild cries out ins surprise, grasping at Twilight’s pelt as his mentor finally does lift him up in his arms.  Time staggers to his feet and stumbles over as well, grabbing Wild just as Twilight sets him down and pulling him into a crushing hug.  Wild makes a small ‘oof’ sound as he’s pressed into Time’s chest.  Time shakes his head, bringing a hand up to grasp at Wild’s hair, holding him tight.  Twilight is pressed against them as well, sandwiching Wild between the two of them.  Wild laughs a little, pulling back to take a deep breath.  

“Um-”

“Don’t,”  Twilight interrupts him just as Time’s splutters “How?” and Wild sighs.  Twilight’s already talking again, grabbing Wild from Time and forcing him around so that mentor and protege are face to face.  He presses their foreheads together and then pulls away again.  

“Don’t ever, ever, fuckin’ do that again, ya hear?”  He grips Wild’s shoulders. “Ever!”

Time can’t see Wild’s face, but by the way his shoulders slump and Twilight’s face crumples again, he can imagine the expression.  Twilight pulls Wild close again, and Time thinks it’s the closest he’s ever seen his protege come to crying.  He places a hand on Wild’s back.  

“How…”  He shakes his head.  “What in Hylia’s name happened?”

Wild struggles and turns around in Twilight’s hold, gripping his mentor’s arm.  

“Did… did Twi not say anything…?”  He glances at Twilight.  “Like… I figured you would have told him about the whole coming back…”

Twilight stares at him for a moment, before his gaze shifts to stare at nothing.  Wild looks at him, incredulous.  

“Did you forget?”  

“I was stressed,”  Twilight shouts, but it sounds more like a wail as he buries his face into the crook of Wild’s neck.  Wild looks like he’s caught between laughing and trying to comfort the other.  He glances at Time, a clear call for help.  Time is still for a moment, before he steps forward and re-inserts himself into the hug, wrapping his arms around both Twilight and Wild and pulling them close.  Wild stiffens for a moment, before sighing and reaching an hand to grab Time’s arm as well.  

“Okay… but we should really go find the others,” he finally says, voice muffled by Twilight’s tunic. 

Chapter Text

Ah, shit.”

Legend turned, raising an eyebrow at Four.  In front of them, Wild stopped as well.  Four was standing, looking up at the sky in exasperation, his eyes closed as he muttered to himself.  Legend looked back at Wild, who shrugged, before walking up to Four and patting his shoulder.

“Ya’ all right there, bud?”

Four shrugged him off with a grumble and stalked past, still muttering.  He walked by Wild, who watched in silent amusement, before finally coming to a stop and spinning around to face the other two.  

“Okay,” he said, raising his hands as if to placate them.  “Whatever you do, don’t tell Time.”

“I hate this,” Legend responded, at the same time Wild said, “Alright.”  Four huffed and nodded, crossing his arms and closing his eyes.  He seemed to think for a moment before addressing them again.  

“Okay,” he repeated.  And then turned and kept walking.  

Legend and Wild watched him go for a moment, before Legend jumped to go catch up, followed by Wild.

“Hey!  Hey, Four wait!”

They walked for another hour or so, with Four refusing to elaborate, too caught up in whatever thought had occupied his mind.  Wild, in contrast to Legend’s growing frustration, didn’t seem to mind the secrecy, instead looking to all the world as if he were content to simply watch the scenery as they passed by.  Legend pouted again, giving Wild a pointed look when, once again, Four refused to explain what was happening.  Finally, Wild broke in, interrupting another question from Legend.  

“Hey, Four?  How long till we reach town?”  He checked the sky, glancing at where the sun had begun to move down towards the horizon.  “We promised the others we’d be back before nightfall.”

Four paused, not bothering to look back as he pointed ahead of them.  Through the trees, a white wall could be seen, ivy crawling up its facade.  

“The entrance is up that way - now, remember what I said about not telling-”

“Time, yes, we know.”  Legend stomped passed Four, the sounds of the town becoming clearer as he drew closer.  “Fucking finally.”  

Wild and Four caught up to him just as he reached the town entrance, the gate guards giving Four a lazy salute as he grabbed Legend’s tunic and forced him to stop.  

“Legend, I’m serious, if Time finds out about-”

“About what?”  Legend batted away Four’s hand.  “What?  You gonna tell me there’s a great bar or something?”  His voice turned joking.  “You gonna treat us to some fine ladies while we’re here?”

Next to them, Wild made a noise in the back of his throat.  

Before Legend could respond, he was cut off by a cry from the market.

“Fresh milk!  Fresh Lon Lon Milk!”

All three of them whipped around, Legend sputtering while Wild took a step forward.

“That sounds just like-”

The young woman stood in the middle of the crowded marketplace, the brilliance of her red hair shining like fire in the rays of the late afternoon sun.  She waved to passerbyers, her lilting voice calling them closer to buy her wares.  

“Fresh milk from Lon Lon Ranch, only 100 rupees!”

Legend grabbed Four’s tunic by the collar, pulling the shorter man closer. 

“Four, what in Hylia…?”

Behind him, Wild was still staring, gobsmacked.  He pointed, as if the other two could not clearly see the woman.  

“That’s Malon,” he said dumbly, and blinked.  “Like… a younger Malon… and Epona?”

Four struggled in Legend’s grasp, growling at the other. 

“Yeah, I know.  Can we please not tell Time - the old man’s gonna freak.”  He pushed Legend away from him, dusting off his tunic.  “Imagine how he’ll react when he finds out his wife got reincarnated in some other time like the rest of us.”  

Legend shook his head, glancing at Wild.  

“What does that mean then… that… that other people other than us get reincarnated or whatever?”

Wild held up his hands in defeat.

“I don’t know… I mean, a lot of us have a ‘Beedle’ in our times…?”

“Yeah, but Beedle’s… special.”

“I guess.”  

Legend bit his lip. 

“I don’t like this… the whole thing’s messed up enough as it is already.  Why in Hylia do other people gotta be involved?”

“Hey,” Four broke through the conversation, waving a hand in front of Legend.  “Can we just go, get what we need, and leave?  Please.”  He glanced back to where Malon was helping a customer.  “I don’t know much more about it than you, only that the goddesses are strange and I have no desire to find out how many other people are stuck in the horrors of never ending life cycles.” 

Wild and Legend shared a look, before Wild sighed and pulled his slate from his belt, flipping through the screen.  

“Alright… Yeah, fine.”  He held up the slate.  “Let’s go then - I have a list of what we need.”

They split up, walking through the square and visiting various shops and stands.  Legend found himself in front of none other than Beedle, who was offering him some sort of potion called a “picolyte” made by tiny people or whatever.  He tried not to show his disbelief when Beedle held up a jar of white liquid, claiming that it gave one the power to find rare stones, and instead politely turned the man down and hurried away to another stand.  Wild had made his way into a small shop displaying arrows and bombs, testing them in his hand under the watchful eye of the older shopkeeper.  

Four spent his time actually looking for things on their list, picking through fresh produce and the breads in the bakery.  He smiled, feeling the weight of a loaf and glanced at Pita. 

“This won’t break my tooth if I bite into it, will it.”  

Pita smiled, winking at him.  

“Maybe if you’re lucky it will,” she said with a laugh.  Four smiled and picked up two more loaves, throwing her a couple of rupees before leaving the shop.  The square was beginning to quiet down, most of the crowd leaving with the night on its way.  Four glanced to where Malon was packing up, placing milk jars in her wagon and mounting Epona.  He sighed; had it been any other day, in any other situation, he might’ve said “hi.”  Might have chatted for a bit, asked about the farm.  She had always been kind to him; they’d been friends when they were younger, though never as close as he and Zelda, and she’d always found ways to thank him after the whole missing key debacle.  Four’s shoulders drooped; ever since he’d met Time though, and had visited his Malon and their ranch, it just felt… strange.  Scary, even.  How many other innocent people had been caught up in the goddess’ messy plans?  

A shout from across the square interrupted his thoughts and he turned to see Legend and Wild waving at him, their bags full.  He trotted over, pointedly ignoring the new set of arrows Wild had in his quiver.  

“Ready,” he said, and the three of them set off.  

Four sat next to Wild at the campfire, handing him ingredients from their bags as the other cooked.  The rest of the group lazed about, chatting idly as they waited for dinner.  

“Carrots.” 

“Carrots,” Four replied and handed Wild a bundle.

“Salt.”

“Salt.”  He grabbed a few pieces from a small leather sack. 

“Milk.”  

“Mil-”  Four fell silent, staring at the jar in his hands.  The bright red logo of Lon Lon Ranch stared happily back him.  He blinked then looked up at Wild, who was looking at him with wide eyes.  

“Wild,”  Four whispered fervently.  “Wild, why do you have this?”

Wild glanced to where Time and Twilight were discussing something about swords, then back at Four.  

“I couldn’t help it - we needed milk and she was really nice.”  

“Of course she was nice she’s-”  Four lowered his voice, wary of the nearby group.  “She’s Malon.”  

Wild hunched his shoulders, grabbing the jar and adding its contents to the cooking pot, before stirring.

“Hush.  Just say it’s regular milk or whatever.”  He said quietly.  “It’s fine.”

“Wild, it has the Hylia-damned logo on it.”

“Well, maybe Time won’t notice…”

“I won’t notice what?”

Both of them shot up, whipping around to see Time standing over them, eyebrow raised.  Wild sputtered, trying to hide the jar from view, but the change in Time expression told him it was too late.  The older hero’s eye went wide and he opened his mouth, a strangled noise escaping.  The rest of the heroes looked up as well, concern running through the group.  From behind Time, Legend leaned over and caught a glance of the jar in Wild’s hand.  The group was silent for a moment, concern turing to surprise and confusion as the rest of them caught on, before, finally, Legend opened his mouth. 

“Aw, Wild, what the fuck man?”

Chapter Text

“Easy, easy…”

“Fu…fuck…”

Legend stumbles, the arm not clutching Warriors for support curled around his stomach.  Warriors holds him upright, supporting him as the two of them slowly make their way across the sands.  Legend clenches his eyes closed.

“Warriors… I’m not… I’m…”  he trails off, clamping his mouth shut as a wave of dizziness overtakes him.  Warriors curses, pulling Legend up as he pitches forward.  

“Hey!”  He hefts Legend up from under his arm pits.  “Stay with me, okay!  We gotta meet up with the others; buck up!”  

Legend’s head lolls and he mumbles some sort of profanity under his breath.  Warriors swallows.  

“Damn…” he mutters, looking around.  The land round them is vast, giant sand dunes stretching out towards the horizon.  He can’t see an end,  his only guide being the sun, which has slowly begun to move lower in the sky.  

West, he thinks, shielding his eyes.  They have to go west.  He glances down at Legend, who’s head is bowed low.  He’s shaking, gritting his teeth as he fights to stay standing, and Warriors feels his heart clench seeing his friend so weak.  He huffs.  The sun is setting; it’s going to grow cold soon, a sharp contrast to the heat that’s been plaguing them for the last few hours.  Both of them are sunburned despite their best efforts to stay covered, their cheeks and noses and the tips of their ears a rosy red, and Legend, for whatever reason, has taken the brunt of the sun’s wrath, heat sickness slowly sinking its claws into his body.  Warriors pulls him close, trying to shield him from the sun the best he can.  Legend presses against him, groaning into his chest.  

“W…we gotta keep moving…”  

“We have to get you to shelter… and get you some water.”

“…’m fine…”  

Legend lifts his head weakly and Warriors can see the gleam of sweat on his forehead and the confusion in his eyes.  He sighs.  

“C’mon.”

They walk for another hour, their progress growing ever slower as Legend succumbs further and further to the heat.  Despite Warriors’ hope that the setting sun would cool the world at least a little, they’ve not felt the effects of it yet as it hangs low in the sky.  For at least the fifth time that day, Warriors curses Wild’s world; the endless desert is killing them.  They’ve already escaped two sandstorms and some sort of giant sand fish, and Warriors is starting to think their luck is running out.  He’s rationed what little water they have, giving most of it Legend, but their canteens have grown light and anxiety has begun to creep in, sending chills down his back despite the haze surrounding them.  He lets out a shaky breath, tightening his grip on Legend’s tunic, and tries to stay calm.  He’s a soldier; he can handle this.  

Next to him, Legend groans.  

“H..hey… I think… I think ‘m gonna-“

He pitches forward and Warriors has to drop to his knees to catch Legend as he flops like a rag doll into his arms.  He lies there, motionless, and Warriors stares at him in shock.  

“Legend?”  He shakes his shoulder.  “Hey… hey, Legend, come on!”  

He flips Legend over, pulling him to his chest, and pats his cheek, warm and feverish beneath his palm.  Legend doesn’t respond, his head rolling to the side when Warriors touches him.  Beneath his eyelids, his eyes move with whatever dream plagues him.  Warriors takes a breath in through his nose and tries to stay calm.  

Legend’s alive, for now.  

Hylia be damned, he’s gonna keep it that way.  

He lifts Legend, hands supporting him under his knees and shoulders, and begins to walk.  Legend’s head flops back, his mouth hanging open, and his chest shudders with each breath.  Warriors thanks whatever goddess is looking out for him, because it’s certainly not Hylia’s holy ass, for keeping the heat from infecting him as well.  The last thing Legend needs if for Warriors to pass out as well.  

Like a cruel joke, Hylia, with all her great power, brings night quickly and, with it, a cold that could rival the icy peaks of the Mt. Lanayru of Wild’s world.  Warriors shivers, his teeth chattering as he slugs his way across the dunes, as harsh winds sweep over him, kicking up the sands so that they dance and swirl around him.  If he’d been anywhere else, without his friend slowly dying in his arms, he might have thought it beautiful, but in the moment all he can do is scream in frustration and crouch low, bending over Legend’s limp form.  Legend is shaking again, too weak to fight the cold on his own.  Warriors rips his scarf from his own shoulders and wraps it around Legends, tucking the fabric under his chin.  The blue looks almost silver in the cold light of the moon, as pale as Legend’s ashen skin.  Warriors holds him close and looks out over the desert before them.

They’re perched on a tall dune and, without any clouds to block the moon’s light, Warriors can see rather far.  

The cliffs that have sat on the horizon all day are still there, closer than before.  Warriors closes his eyes.  

They could offer some shelter.  

They could offer some hope.        

Warriors opens his eyes and glances down at Legend.  His friend shudders.  

He wants to hope.  

He’ll have to move fast.  The moon is still rising; the coldest parts of the night have yet to come.  If he can make it to shelter before they come, Legend might have a chance.  

He breathes deeply, letting the air out and watching his breath puff like a cloud in front of him, and then looks down the length of the slope before him.  

If anything, Wild would be very proud of what he’s about to do.  

Legend would be too, he thinks, if he were awake to witness it in all its undignified glory.  

Warriors steals himself, sends a prayer to the goddesses, clutches Legend close, and leaps off the dune.

His feet hit the sloping sand with a force that almost sends him tumbling forward and he thinks, for a moment, that maybe he should have just sat on a shield and slid down.  He manages to catch himself and then he’s running and stumbling his way down the dune as the loose sands around him behind to slide downward as well.  In the tiny part of his mind that isn’t all panic and screeched profanities, he imagines that he probably looks very stupid.  

He doesn’t realize he’s screaming until he hits the bottom and almost crashes into a cactus.  He rolls forward, curling over Legend, and doing some sort of front flip that would probably be rather impressive if not for the fact that he lands painfully on his back, the wind knocked out him.

He wants to lay there until his head stops spinning and he can breathe normally again, but Legend whimpers pitifully from where he’s flopped like a piece of wet grass across Warriors’ chest and Warriors forces himself to his feet, grunting as he lifts Legend up again.  

Keep moving.  

Warriors marches on.  

When he sees the light of a fire, Warriors sobs.  He doesn’t care about the fact that he probably looks like a wreck, face red and puckered, sand everywhere it shouldn’t be; he falls to his knees, thanking anyone and anything, before stumbling upright again and sprinting towards the light.  

It’s a pathway through the cliffs, the opening to a narrow cavern and, as he crests the small hill that leads out of the desert, Warriors almost starts to cry again.  An inn.  A horse stable.  He begins to make his way towards, trying to compose himself, and speaking in low tones to Legend, where he remains in Warriors’ arms, wrapped in his scarf.  

“You’re going to be okay.  I promise, you’re going to be okay.”

Legend wakes with a jolt and a groan, bringing up a hand to press against his aching forehead.  His other hands is trapped beneath something and, when he tries to move it, whatever is holding it tightens its grip.  He’s lying on something soft and warm and, other than the monster of a headache he can feel coming on, he feels… rather okay.  

The lingering taste of a potion sits in his mouth and he smacks his lips.  He’s thirsty, but not desperately so.  

When he finally opens his eyes, blinking away sleep, it’s to the soft light of a lantern, hung somewhere to his right.  Above him, the light casts dancing shadows on the patterned walls of an inn, those found in Wild’s Hyrule.  Legend sighs softly.  

Safe.

To his left, something shifts, and he turns only to feel a lump building in his throat.  Warriors is sat next to him, curled over his bed, asleep.  Legend’s other hand is clutched between both of Warriors’ and his friend’s head is rested on Legend’s stomach.  Beneath it, spread out over the quilt that covers him, Legend is surprised to see Warriors treasured scarf.  Legend breathes and Warriors’ head moves with it.  

“Hey,”  Legend murmurs, trying to draw his hand away, but Warriors doesn’t respond, only clutching Legend’s hand tighter.  Legend tries again, but only sighs when the results remain the same.    

He’s tired; the rest of the inn is barely awake, the only movement coming from the inn keeper, who keeps glancing over with a fond smile.  Legend looks away and back at Warriors.  

In his sleep, his friend whimpers something and turns his head to bury his face deeper into the blankets and, subsequently, Legend’s abdomen.  Legend stares at him quietly, waiting, but Warriors only snores softly.  Legend hesitates.

“Oh, for Hylia’s sake,” he finally mutters and grips Warriors’ hands back.

Chapter Text

“This is your fault.”

“How is it my fault?”

“Technically it’s all of our faults…”

“Oh hush up.”

Blue is about to retort when a raindrop slips from the sky, splashing down next to him.  All of them jump as water erupts outwards.  

“Under the leaf, under the leaf!”  Red shouts as more rain begins to fall and the four of them scurry under the shelter of a large plant, huddling together as the sky opens up above them.  Green is still clutching the cane from before they split, cradling it to his chest.  Blue snarls and snatches it from his grasp despite Green’s protests, and uses it to point at Red.  

“This is your fault because you decided to get all sentimental when we shouldhave getting shit done and finishing our mission, but noooooo,” he throws his hands up, spinning around to face the falling rain.  “You just had to be all ‘oh but it’s been sooooo loooong,’ and go flipping pots and jumping in and saying spells and now,” he gestures to himself.  “Look at where we are.”  

Red pouts, clutching at the hem of his tunic.  

“…Vio’s the one who remembered the words…”

Vio gives him an unimpressed look, his arms crossed.  He shakes his head with a sigh and glances at Green, who’s currently ‘testing the water,’ sticking his hand out and flinching as large drops hit him.  Vio huffs and grabs Green’s collar, dragging him back under the protection of the leaf.  

“Listen,” he says, shaking Green to get his attention.  “We can’t just stay here - the others are gonna be looking for us; we should have been back nearly an hour ago.”

Blue huffs.

“Well is Red hadn’t-”

“I don’t care whose fault it was,” Vio says, placing a hand on his forehead.  “And anyways… it was all of ours, collectively.”  He glances up between his fingers.  “We all wanted to do it.”  

Blue falls silent, his shoulders dropping after a moment, and stares at the cane in his hands.  Finally he sighs and hands its back to Green, who snatches it back with a grimace.

“Let’s just go,” he says quietly.  “We need to find another portal before nightfall.”  

The others nod resolutely, except Red, who simply points at the still falling rain.  

“How are we gonna get through this; it’s raining too hard to avoid getting hit.”  

Beside him, Vio glances up at the leaf they’re under, his eyes trailing down its length.  

“I think,” he says, a hand on his chin.  “I have an idea.”

“Red, pick up the pace!”

“I’m trying!”

They run in pairs, two in front and two behind, through the rain, each holding up their portion of the leaf.  Vio and Green take the lead, navigating through the storm, while Red and Blue take the back, their eyes peeled for enemies.  The most they’ve run into are a few bugs and a very interested mouse, but the falling rain has kept almost everything at bay.

“I can see a tree up ahead,”  Green calls out over the storm.  “We can break there and get our bearings.”  

The others yell their agreements and the four of them soon find themselves crouched beneath the raised root of an oak just as lightning cracks across the sky.  Red makes a sound of wonder, staring up with wide eyes.  Blue and Green busy themselves with ringing out their tunics, drenched despite their makeshift umbrella.  Vio looks out at their surroundings, eyes squinted.  

“Maybe we should reform,” he says after a moment.  Blue raises an eyebrow at him.  

“What, and face the world alone at Minish size?  That’s not very smart of you, oh wise one.”

Vio ignores him.  Red looks at them over his shoulder.

“I think we can do it.”

“You think we can do anything.”

Another crack of lightning illuminates the world, followed a bit later by a bellow of thunder.  Green counts the seconds in between, then hums.    

“The storms moving away.  We should be able to navigate pretty easily soon.”  

“That’s good,”  Vio mutters.  “I can’t see anything through the rain.”  He faces the others.  “So what’s the plan?  Reform, or stay separate?”

Blue shifts uneasily.  

“You already know what I think.”

Vio looks at Green and Red.  

“I think we should do it,”  Red says with a smile.  “We only split in the first place by accident.  Besides, we’ve survived being alone before.”

“We had Ezlo.”

Red shrugs.  

“He didn’t do much more than nag.”

Vio rolls his eyes as Green nods along with Red.  

“True.  I say we go for it.”  He grins and pulls out his sword.  “We can handle it.  And if we need to split again, we will.”

Vio pulls out his own sword, Red following suit, then looks to Blue.  

“Well?  It’s three against one.”

Blue shifts on his feet, before unsheathing his blade.  

“Alright,” he mutters.  “But if something goes wrong, I blame you.”

The bring their swords together, light over taking them-

-and Four opens his eyes.  He breathes deep, sheathing the Four Sword at his waist.  He’s confident, mostly, and walks to the edge of his shelter.  The rain has already begun to subside, fat droplets rolling lazily off the surrounding foliage.  Four can see an earthworm beginning to poke its way through the dirt as sunlight once again begins to alight upon the ground, and he puffs his chest.  A shadow passes over him and he looks up to see a young bluebird, a bug held firmly in her beak.  He winces as she glides away, her shrill song ringing out, and he thinks that getting eaten by a small bird is probably the most embarrassing way he could die.

“Alright,” he says quietly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.  “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Text

“This reminds me of… well… ya know…”  

Wild waits, quiet, until he’s finally turned towards Hyrule, though by that time Hyrule’s faced away from him again.  

“No, I don’t,” he says and hopes the sarcasm is apparent despite the strain on his throat.  He swallows and oh, that’s an odd feeling. He’s turning away from Hyrule again; he tries to crane his neck to see him better, but he’s dizzy enough as it is so he just lets himself continue to spin, every so slowly.  

Through the blood rushing to his head, he can hear Hyrule chuckle.  

“Sorry,” his companion murmurs.  “I can’t think straight.”

Wild supposes that’s valid, considering their situation.  Hryule continues after a moment.

“I used to… get into situations like this all the time when I was… er… questing.”

“You used to be tied up and hung upside down by monsters in attempt to torture you?” 

Wild’s facing the back of Hyrule’s head.  His hair looks funny like that… his mind supplies sluggishly.  Hyrule shakes his head and immediately groans.  

“Well, I was never hung upside down…”  He huffs. “I did get tied to a stake once…”  

Wild wishes he could actually see Hyrule’s face, to see if he’s joking or not.  Hyrule sighs and Wild can hear him fumbling with his restraints again. He wonders idly where their captors are; the group of moblins had disappeared shortly after tying the two heroes up, leaving them to dangle helplessly from a tree limb.  Wild scowls.  

He feels like a piece of meat in a butcher’s shop.  

“Why were you tied to a stake,” he asks.  Hyrule hums, as if remembering a fond memory. 

“They were trying to resurrect Ganon and wanted to use me as a sacrifice to do so.”  He says it so nonchalantly, as if this is an everyday occurrence, that Wild does a double take, rocking himself so that he turns to face Hyrule just a bit faster.  He catches his eye before they’re both turned away again.  

“That wanted to do what? ”

Hyrule shrugs (as best he can).  

“How long do you think it’ll take the others to find us?” 

Wild splutters. 

“You can’t just say something like that then move on!”  

Hyrule seems a bit annoyed, if his tone of voice is anything to go by.    

“What?  I killed their king, killed their armies, and then a few years later they tried to do the same to me.”  Something rustles and Wild gets the distinct feeling that Hyrule is gesturing to himself as best he can with his hands tied.  “They didn’t obviously, so what does it matter?”  

Wild is stares at the ground beneath him.  His eyesight has gone a bit blurry in the past few minutes, but he tries to ignore it.  

“That… that really sucks, ‘rule.”  

Hyrule huffs.  

“Yeah, well…”  He sighs. “Forget it.  Forget I even mentioned it.  Let’s just focus on getting out of here; it’s not that important anyway.”

“It sounds like it’s important,” Wild says quietly.  

“It’s not.  I don’t care.”  

“It seems like you do.”

“Well I don’t .”

“Hyrule, it’s okay if you want to-”

“Hylia, Wild!”  Hyrule is facing him again; his face is beet red and Wild can’t tell if its from frustration or from hanging upside down for so long.  “I don’t need a fucking therapy session!”  

“Well I don’t know, seems like you’re pretty upset about this whole thing!”  

“Is this really the time?!”

Hyrule’s outburst is surprisingly unsurprising; he’s always been one of the calmer, more level headed of the group, but the situation lends itself to the sudden explosion of emotion.  Wild grits his teeth and tries not to be sick; he doesn’t want the first thing he lands in if they’re rescued to be his half digested lunch. Hyrule’s clearly been holding this is for a while; it’d be pretty rude to throw up.

“Seems like now’s a good time, if any,” he manages and hears Hyrule scoff.  “You’re clearly upset about it…”

“Yeah?  And what do you know?”

Wild bites his lip, the retort surprisingly hurtful, and falls silent.  The two of them hang there, quiet. Wild doesn’t look at Hyrule when he’s turned towards him again.  He looks at the ground and tries to focus on anything other than the migraine building at the base of his skull, or the sound of Hyrule breathing at his back, or the way the rope around his hands and legs and torso is cutting into his skin, or the way he can just imagine Twilight scolding him for wandering off again.  It’s hard.  

“‘m sorry,” Hyrule finally says, quiet.  “That was mean… I know… I know you’ve been through a lot, too.” 

Wild tries to ignore the slur in Hyrule’s voice.  Hyrule doesn’t continue right away, but Wild can sense there’s more lurking under the surface.  He waits. Eventually, Hyrule speaks.  

“I just…  I just didn’t want this, you know?”  He sounds small. “I just wanted to live peacefully, to go where I wanted and to explore and discover and eat new things and meet new people and hear stories and songs and sounds and, and…”  He trails off, his voice thick with tears and WIld blinks. He’s at a loss. Hyrule breathes in with a snuffle. “Sorry,” he mumbles. Wild feels alarm shoot through him at how weak Hyrule sounds.  “This’s stupid… I should be-”

“It’s okay,”  Wild breathes because Hyrule really doesn’t have anything to be sorry for.  His vision dips, but he pulls himself out of it. “It’s okay, really.”  

“It’s not though,” Hyrule says thickly.  “It’s not okay, none of this is…” When they face each other again, Hyrule meets Wild’s gaze, his eyes rimmed red.  “Why do we have to be the ones? Why are we the ones chosen to save the world?” He shakes his head limply. “‘m not a hero;  I don’t wanna... be, I just… I just wannna help people…”  

“I think… ‘s kind of what being a hero is, isn’t it?”  Wild slurs.  

Hyrule swallows.  

“‘m so tired,” he whispers is lu of an answer.  “‘m so tired and afraid… ‘m so afraid that this is never going to end.  That’ll even after this, when I go back home, they’ll be more monsters... and more wars and I’ll be called to fight for another cause… I’ll be alone again… always fighting until…”  He trails off. Wild can’t see him.  

“‘til…?”  He asks, uncertain.  The world is starting to tilt dangerously. 

“Until one day I die... having only ever fought for others and never… never having done one thing for m’self.”  

Wild lets out a shaky breath.  This is hitting a bit too close for comfort.  

“Is it wrong,”  Hyrule pleads, his voice a strained whisper.  “To be even a little selfish?”

Wild doesn’t have an answer for that.  He thinks of Hyrule, travelling day after day, without rest, not knowing what to do or where to go.  His thoughts are muddled, but the regret and anger that sit heavy in his stomach are clear as water. He meets Hyrule’s eyes as best he can; Hyrule himself seems to be having a hard time seeing straight.  

“’m sorry,” Wild mumbles.  He closes his eyes as the world blurs.  “’m so sorry, ‘rule.”

“...’m so tired…”  

“Don… don’t sleep…”  Wild forces his eyes open.  He’s turned the other way again.  “‘rule…?”  

Silence greets him.  Panic wakes him up enough for him struggle, turning himself as best he can.  

“Hyrule!”  

“Wha?”  Hyrule is glaring at him through lidded eyes.  The burst of energy is gone and Wild lets his head fall limp.  

“Don’t… don’t fall asleep… yet…”  

Hyrule mumbles something unintelligible.  Wild swallows. There’s a buzzing in his ears, growing louder and louder and threatening to overtake everything.  He groans and fights it.   

“When… when this is ‘ver… I’ll cook you wh… whatever y’want…”  The world dips to dark again. “An’... an’ we’ll go on vacation… somewhere…” 

Hryule hums.  

“No… monsters…?”

“No monsters… no quests...”  Wild agrees. “We can jus’... sleep…”  

If Hyrule responds, Wild can’t make it out.  Instead, he hears the faint sound of familiar voices, shouting, before the buzzing in his ears finally overwhelms him and world slips away.   

Chapter Text

Twilight opens his eyes to find himself face to face with a set of teeth that could rival his own in his more ‘wild’ moments. 

A puff of warm air is the next thing he’s greeted with and then the entirety of the being before him comes into focus, his sleep-addled mind struggling to make sense of his situation as the form of a bear quite many times his own size is revealed.

He flinches, but its paw is on his chest, pinning him down with ease, and he gasps; whether it’s to scream or call to the others, he never finds out.  Instead, a hand appears from nowhere, slapping itself across his mouth and holding him tight; somewhere above him, someone shushes him.  He struggles, but then there’s another hand on his shoulder, holding him still, and he relaxes just enough to realize that the bear is just staring at him.  It doesn’t growl, or make any move to maul him; it just watches him with what could only be called mild amusement.  He blinks, staring back at it, and then the hand over his mouth retracts and he looks up to see Legend sitting over him, grimacing.  

“Hi,” the other hero whispers and Twilight can only make a sort of aborted ‘groan.’  Legend nods, as if agreeing, and then turns to the bear.  “I think you might be crushing him, Wild.” 

“Wi-!”  Twilight starts, but then the hand is back over his mouth again.  Legend glares at him and leans in close. 

“Quiet, idiot,” he hisses, casting a glance over his shoulder.  “You wanna wake up the rest of camp and reveal your secret to the others.”  

Twilight glares back, but remains quiet.  Legend purses his lips and draws back, sitting back on his heels and Twilight smacks his lips.

“...Your hand tastes horrible.” 

“Oh yeah?  Well, I stuck it up my-” 

There’s a low moan from the bear still laying on top of Twilight and Legend falls quiet again, scowling.  Twilight lets his head fall back onto his bedroll, eyeing the bear.  

“Wild?” 

The bear moans again, its eyes large and pleading, and now Twilight can see it; the faint scarring on the left side of the animal’s face is enough to tell Twilight that this is indeed his poor protege.  He groans again and closes his eyes, desperately wishing this was a dream, but the weight on his chest remains and he finally places a hand over the paw, fingers grazing over claws nearly the size of his forearm.  

“Oh, Cub.” 

“Ha,” Legend huffs, somewhere to his right.  “More accurate than ever.” 

Twilight opens his eyes again, eyeing Legend as the other hero rocks back and forth on his heels, then Wild, who is staring at him with the same intensity as always; his eyes are still the same brilliant blue, a sharp contrast to the dark brown of his fur, and Twilight smiles softly, patting his paw lightly.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers and then sits up, Wild drawing back just enough to allow it.  Twilight sighs, pushing a hand through his bangs.  “So,” he drawls.  “How exactly did this happen?” 

His necklace is gone from around his neck and he has a pretty good idea who has it.  Legend finally plops down on the ground fully, glancing behind him to where the others are still sleeping.  

“Watched the whole thing happen,” he starts, voice quiet.  “I was on watch, y’know, and I was checking in on everyone.  Turned around just in time to watch…” 

He trails off and Twilight stiffens as Legend’s face twists, almost painfully, until he realizes that the grimace is from Legend trying not to smile, his cheeks puffing out as his shoulders begin to shake.  

“Wild was all shaking and whimpering and then he just rolled over and, and,” he pauses, stifling a laugh into the crook of his elbow.  Wild growls, low and rumbling, but Legend ignores him.  “He rolled over and grabbed your necklace in his sleep and boom!  Bear.”  He dissolves into breathy chuckles, face red with the effort to stay quiet.  Twilight watches him, annoyance building in his chest.  

“You didn’t think to intervene?” 

Legend looks up and rolls his eyes. 

“You think I had the time?  You think I was gonna stop him during a nightmare; I’ve seen how hard he punches.  Besides,” he says and leans back on his hands.  “It’s your fault for sleeping so close together.”

Twilight doesn’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to push himself into a standing position and take full stock of the situation; the main problem isn’t hard to see: Wild is currently a 600 lb bear, all teeth and claws and scarred skin, who looks more than a little put off.  The other problem also comes as a bit of a blessing; the others are asleep and are, thus, unaware of recent events.  

Which is nice. 

The more troublesome part is made apparent when Sky, snoring as loud as ever, rolls over to reveal the Master Sword held snugly in his arms.  Legend curses under his breath. 

“Things can never be easy,” he mutters.  Twilight hums in agreement. 

“Won’t be like last time; wakin’ up to find a strange rabbit in your camp is one thing.  Wakin’ up to find a fully grown bear is another.  We’ll have to be careful not to wake anyone else.”    

Wild visibility perks up at the mention of a rabbit, but Twilight doesn’t elaborate for Legend’s sake; the other hero already looks uncomfortable enough at the memory, and he’s sure that Wild will ask a plethora of questions once this is all over. 

“We’ll need a plan.” 

“Of course.” 

It’s a delicate affair, discussing their course of action while surrounded by a group of sleeping heroes who’ve been trained to wake at the slightest sense of danger.  Twilight and Legend talk in hushed tones, drawing in the dirt and thanking Hylia that the light of the full moon is bright enough to see.  Wild does his best to contribute, pawing at the ground, using his claws to make marks, and rumbling his disapproval when they finally reach a solution. 

“I know it ain’t the best plan,” Twilight whispers, tugging gently at Wild’s ear.  “But it’s all we got.”  

“My watch doesn’t end for a while yet,” Legend says, already wrapping his own sword in Twilight’s blanket.  “We should have enough time to switch the swords, get Wild out of here, change him back, return to camp, and then replace the swords again before Four wakes up for the next watch.” 

Twilight nods, then pauses, glancing to where the smallest member of their group is curled up on his bedroll. 

“Or... we could wake Four to help out.” 

The look Legend gives him reminds him of Ilia’s face when he told her about his idea to go live alone in the woods.  

“You want to get more people involved in this?”

“He already knows about me and the whole wolf-thing.”  Twilight insists.  “It ain’t like he could make the situation any worse.” 

“How many other people know that the weird pinecone around your neck can turn people into animals?”  

“It ain’t a pinecone,” Twilight hisses, more than a little offended, and Wild grumbles in agreement.  “And only Four.  And Time.  Obviously.” 

“Oh, obviously,” Legend scoffs and crosses his arms, before sighing.  “Fine.  We wake Four; he can help switch the swords out since he’s small, or whatever.  But,” he says, and fixes Twilight with a stare.  “We’re not waking Time.  Hylia knows he’ll pitch a fit if he sees this mess.”  

“Agreed,” Twilight says and Wild nods, nudging Legend’s shoulder with his nose.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Legend huffs, swatting him away.  “You two better get going; we passed by a clearing earlier that should be far enough away that no one will notice the change back.”  He grimaces, looking at the others.  “You’ll have to sneak past them.”  

“We can make it,”  Twilight assures him and stands.  “We’ll wake up Four on the way and send him over to ya.  Sure you can handle the sword switch?” 

“I once stole a sword from Ravio’s shop while he was talking to me. ”  Legend mutters, rolling his eyes.  “I think I can take the Master Sword from a sleeping Sky.” 

Twilight doesn’t feel too convinced.  The way Wild whimpers as he, too, gets to his feet, lets him know that his protege is also less than confident in Legend’s claim.  He lets it go, though, in favor of patting Wild’s shoulder and motioning for him to follow; it’s a funny sight, watching a fully grown bear attempt to tiptoe around the sleeping forms of their companions, and Twilight sends Wild a small smile of encouragement as he leads him through the camp.

They stop by Four on their way, Twilight kneeling down beside him and shaking his shoulder lightly; Four jerks awake anyways and Twilight winces in sympathy, bringing a finger to his lips and nodding to where Wild is standing by, trying his best to look as small as possible despite his current form.  Four blinks. 

“Wild turned into a bear,” Twilight whispers, shrugging when Four looks at him, incredulous, before sighing and shaking his head. 

“I knew this day would come.”

“What?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Four says, ignoring Twilight’s confusion and standing, yawning as he does.  “I’m assuming you have a plan?”

“Legend-” Twilight starts, but Four just nods and then begins to walk to where Legend is edging his way over towards Sky.

“I’ll go help Legend,” he says quietly, and waves them off.  Twilight glances at Wild, who only flicks his ears in response.  

“Alright then,” Twilight whispers, still a little taken back, and then together he and Wild resume their mission to sneak away; they make it all the way to the edge of camp, slipping past Wind as he drools over his pillow, and Hyrule, who looks to be doing a wonderful impression of a starfish.  Warriors almost gets them, turning over in his sleep with a grumble as they walk by; Twilight stutters to a halt, Wild nearly knocking him over as he bumps into him from behind, and together they watch as Warriors murmurs something about a fairy, before burying his face back into his pillow. 

“That was close,” Twilight mutters and then turns only to find himself staring down at a very much awake Time.  He freezes, shoulders seizing up.  Beside him, Wild tenses as well.    

Time’s gaze is piercing, his lips drawn into a tight line, and Twilight flinches involuntarily as his mentor slowly cocks his head to the side.  Behind him, Wild shuffles, a low whine leaking from his mouth.  

It’s the standoff of the century, the three of them motionless in the middle of camp, surrounded by their sleeping companions.  Twilight swallows, the sound audible in the silence of the night, and Time raises an eyebrow, gaze slowly travelling to Wild, who visibly shrinks back as Time untucks his hands from his blanket and gives them each a pointed glare, before signing; 

I don’t want to know.

Twilight nods and watches as Time narrows his eye, before turning back over and very obviously ignoring them.

A quick glance back at Wild is all Twilight does before sneaking the rest of the way out of camp and into the woods, his protege at his heels.  

The clearing isn’t too far, but there’s enough distance between it and camp that the others won’t notice the glow of transformation magic.  Wild plops down in the soft grass almost immediately, rolling over onto his back and sighing in obvious relief.  Twilight joins him, smirking as he comes to stand beside his protege before throwing himself backwards over the other’s stomach, chuckling when Wild growls in surprise.  A huge paw comes down to cover his face, but there’s nothing more than playfulness behind the action.  Twilight pushes it away, laughing at the lack of resistance; he can tell Wild is holding back, a certain nervousness in his movements that comes with being in a strange form. 

“You won’t hurt me, Cub,” Twilight reassures him.  “I trust you enough not to crush me.” 

There’s a rumbling below him as Wild responds, blinking up at him with wide eyes, and Twilight let’s his head fall back with a sigh.  His protege is warm, his newly acquired fur thick and fluffy; it’s maybe not as soft as Twilight would have hoped, but it’s comfortable enough that he grumbles when Wild sits up, jostling him.  His sounds of disappointment soon turn to surprise, however, when, instead of letting him back down to the ground, Wild catches him in his paws and sets him on his lap, a satisfied huff escaping him as he clumsily pats Twilight’s head.  Twilight scowls.

“You’re messin’ up my hair.” 

“Brrrrrrrrooooooaaaaaaaaam.” 

“That better not have been a joke.” 

“Hrrrrm.” 

“Keep it up and I won’t help you change back when Legend and Four get here.”  

They don’t have to wait long for the other two members of their group; Legend makes his presence known almost immediately upon entering the clearing, his barking laughter breaking their moment of calm so suddenly that Wild nearly squeezes Twilight to death in surprise.  Four is chuckling beside him, the Master Sword cradled in his arms. 

“You two look like you’re straight out of a child’s tale,” Legend guffaws, only to yelp when Four smacks him on the back of the head, scowling.  

“You wanna wake the whole forest?” 

Twilight only leans back against Wild, crossing his arms and nodding to the sword.  

“I see your mission was a success.” 

“Oh yeah,” Four says and hefts the sword, still sheathed.  “Simple as pie.” 

“I didn’t think Sky would be so easy to steal from, ‘specially when it comes to her.  Figured he woulda been up the minute you laid a single finger on the sword.”  He grins.  “Can’t believe you managed to just take it from him all simple like that.” 

“Oh no, we drugged him.”  Legend says, stretching, and it takes a moment for Twilight to realize he’s serious.  

“You what? ” 

“We drugged him,” Four repeats, bringing the sword over and handing it to a stunned Twilight.  “Rummaged through Wild’s bag - sorry - and grabbed that sleeping potion he got from the last town.” 

Wild groans at that, bringing a paw up to his face, and Twilight grimaces. 

“That ain’t very nice.” 

“Did you want the sword or not?”

“ How’d you even get him to drink it? ” 

“Poured it right down his throat,” Legend says proudly, motioning with his hands.  “Shloooop.  Didn’t even choke.” 

“Listen,” Four interrupts before Twilight can say anything.  “We got the sword, so let’s just change Wild back and be done with it.  I’m tired and it’s nearly daybreak - my shift started an hour ago and I’m not even there to keep watch.” 

Legend shrugs.  

“It’s my Hyrule - these woods are as safe as they come.” 

Twilight doesn’t dignify that with a response, just rolling his eyes and getting to his feet, before turning to Wild and presenting the Master Sword, unsheathed.

“Here, Cub.  All yours.”

Wild eyes him, suspicion clear on his face despite being… a bear… and then reaches a paw out.  His claws barely touch the surface of the hilt before there’s a flash of blue light and then Twilight’s protege is standing there, whole and hearty, looking only a little more disheveled than usual. 

“Ugh,” he says, bringing a hand to his forehead.  “Head rush.” 

Twilight places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it once before bending down to collect his necklace where it had fallen.  When he straightens back up, it’s to see Legend and Four snicker to each other as Wild holds a length of his own hair in his hands.

“Ah,” Twilight says and chuckles.  “You look good as a brunette.” 

“What the fuck,” Wild moans and then brings the hair closer to his face for inspection.  Legend and Four are still laughing, watching as Wild reaches back for his ponytail, groaning as he sees that it, too, has turned a lovely shade of brown, the very tips of it a dark golden.  

“It’ll fade, Cub,” Twilight says, laughing along with the others, but Wild only glares at him.  

“How am I gonna explain this to the others?” 

Legend comes forward, leaning in close and pursing his lips.  

“How are you gonna explain your teeth?  That’s the real question.” 

“What do you mean ‘how am i gonna explain my- ah!”  Wild reaches up, putting a finger to his mouth and whimpers.  “Why are they sharp? ”

“It’s just a side effect, Wild,” Twilight tries, placing his hand back on the other’s shoulder.  “They’ll both fade away.”  He motions to his forehead, finger trailing down his nose.  “They’re only permanent if you stay a beast for too long.”  

“Wait,” Wild exclaims, suddenly abandoning his worrying over his teeth and whipping around to face Legend.  “ That’s why you had pink hair for a week!” 

“Uh,” Legend starts, but Wild is already grabbing his arm and squeezing.  

“What do you turn into?” 

“Um.” 

“A rabbit,” Twilight supplies helpfully and he can see Wild processing the words, before a grin slowly stretches its way across his protege’s face; Legend frowns, cheeks reddening as WIld bites his lip and steps back, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Well that’s… cool…”  

“ Shut up. ” 

“What, what?  I said that it’s cool.”

“I wonder what I would be.” 

The last part is said by Four, quiet as the crickets singing in the woods, and Twilight turns to him, surprised.  Wild and Legend pause in their argument as well, both donning equal looks of curiosity. 

“We should totally try it out,” Legend proclaims, already stepping forward.  

“Yes. Yes, we should,” Wild agreed, following. 

“Oh no,” Twilight tries, but Wild is already yanks Four over, motioning for Twilight to give him the necklace.   

“Does it hurt?” Four asks, wincing as Legend pushes him from behind. 

“No,” Legend says, rolling his eyes. 

“Yes, Twilight responds, grimacing. 

“I was asleep,” Wild finished, taking Four’s hand and placing it over Twilight’s necklace before the other has the chance to stop him. There’s a yelp, a flash of light, and then the three of them are staring down at Wild’s palm, where a very small, and very disgruntled, mouse is staring back at them, its honey blonde fur seemingly split into four shades across its back. 

Legend is the first to break the silence, letting out a whoosh of air as he reaches forward to tap the mouse on the head. 

“Hylia… that’s hilarious…” 

“I’m sorry, Four,” Wild murmurs, bringing the mouse up to his face. “But it seems you're still the smallest among us.”

There’s an indignant squeak from the mouse, it’s black whiskers twitching and Twilight finally sighs, taking pity of Four and bringing the Master Sword up. 

“Here,” he says, feeling more than a little exhausted by the situation.  The mouse reaches forward, there’s a flash, and then Four is once again standing before them, his hand still gripped in Wild’s.  He shakes his head, like a dog ridding itself of water, and scowls. 

“That was horrible.”

“Yes, but the freckles do look good on you,” Legend quips and Twilight can’t help but grin as Four makes a sound of disapproval when he sees his reflection in the sword, fingers running over his cheeks and the distinct freckles that now reside there. 

“They must be from the whiskers,” Wild surmises and then turns his face to the sky.  “It’s nearly dawn; we should head back.”  

Twilight nods, then eyes his protégé’s hair, reaching out a hand to tug lightly at his ponytail. 

“How’re we gonna explain this?” 

“We’ll say he was cursed,” Four pipes up, sheathing the Master Sword. “Same for me.” 

“We’ll need to come up with a pretty good story for that.”  

“On the way back,” Four agrees and turns towards the direction of camp, motioning for the others to follow.  They walk close together, testing excuses and joking about each other’s new looks. Twilight places an arm around Wild’s shoulder, his comment about vampires earning him a halfhearted glare. 

“You know,” Legend says just as camp comes into view; it’s still quiet. “I don’t get why we didn’t just wake Sky and ask for the sword. He helped us last time.” 

The rest of the group stops and it takes Legend a few moments to do so as well, turning back to look at them from a few feet ahead. Twilight fixes him with a glare, mouth open and brow drawn tight. 

“ Why didn’t you suggest that earlier?” 

Legend raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms and very pointedly not looking at Twilight, his gaze flickering over to a nearby bush. 

“You seemed very excited about your plan. I didn’t want to ruin your moment.”  

Twilight huffs, stammering for a response; Wild is laughing into his hand beside him, while Four rolls his eyes fondly.  Twilight finally growls, stepping forward and cracking his knuckles, grinning when Legend flinches. 

“You son of a-”

His threat, as cool as it’s going to be, is interrupted by a screech from the direction of camp; their small group freezes, glancing at each other as Sky’s voice rises above the canopy of the forest, borderline hysterical. 

“Where in Hylia’s name is my sword?!”

Chapter Text

“What, in Hylia’s holy power, is that ?” 

Sky can’t help the disgust that seeps into his words when Twilight presents the creature to him, smirking like a demon as he quite literally shoves it into Sky’s hands; the thing looks equally upset by this development and squawks rather loudly, flapping its wings and kicking with its tiny legs.  Wind is standing off to the side, his face a picture of amazement, rather than horror.  

“It’s incredible,” the younger hero exclaims leaning in close for a better look.  Sky grunts as the creature beats its wings against his arms, before a high pitched voice splits the air and has them all flinching. 

“Master Link, please take me back!”  The creature’s voice is shrill, its thrashing unrelenting.  “This one holds me too tightly!”  

Sky yelps, letting go and allowing the creature to flutter to the ground, where it promptly turns to him with a look of disappointment painting its face; it looks like an experiment gone wrong, its body that of a malformed cucco, with a head that resembles that of a starving hylian.  Sky takes a step back, grimacing.  

“This is Ooccoo,” Twilight says with a voice that lets Sky know he’s having far too much fun.  “She’s an Oocca.”  

The things he’s saying aren’t words, but Sky only grits his teeth and nods, watching as Wind crouches down to inspect the… Oocca.   

“Hm.  Ooccoo, huh?” he says and then, in true 14-year-old fashion, follows it up with; “She’s got some big ol’ ti-” 

“THAT’S enough of that,”  Sky interrupts, slapping a hand over Wind’s mouth and promptly shoving him to the side while Twilight cackles.  The bird-hylian-creature-thing makes an affronted noise and stalks over to stand beside Twilight, her feathers fluffed in anger. 

“The young hero boy is quite rude,” she squawks, stomping her foot on the ground.  Wind just scowls at Sky, wiping the back of his arm across his mouth.  

“Ooccoo likes to come down and visit the surface sometimes.  She’s part of a race of creatures that live in the sky,”  Twilight explains and Sky raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms.  

“Oh?” 

Twilight shrugs.  

“I once met a scholar who said the Oocca came from the sky and were the closest bein’s to Hylia,” he states and shakes his head when Sky scoffs.  “Probably a mistranslation in his research.  He also claimed they created the land of Hyrule, but…” He gestures to Sky, looking him up and down.  “We both know that ain't true.”

Sky purses his lips, a mild annoyance tugging at his mind, but he ignores it; he’s already figured out that his lifetime is the distant past for the other heroes.  He’s more of a myth than legend at this point, so, as much as it hurts, he’s not surprised to hear that the deeds of his people have been warped into mystical tales.  

“Where in the sky?” he asks, instead of pursuing the subject further, smiling a little when Ooccoo puffs her chest.  

“We found old ruins,” she says, proudly, and Sky blinks.  

“You-” 

“Old cities in the sky,”  Ooccoo continues, spreading her small wings.  “Ruins left behind by the sky people before us.  With great statues and stairways and temples.  My people made our homes there, made our cities.  Raised our sons and daughters.”

Sky stares at her, words bubbling up from his chest to his lips, but he finds that, when he opens his mouth, the only sound is that of a half-formed ‘ah.’  

Ooccoo continues on, saying something about pathways and peahats, but Sky checks out, minds running through the possibilities; he’s aware of Twilight watching him and, when he looks up, he finds the other hero staring at him with an eyebrow quirked, a mix of concern and curiosity painting his features.  He tilts his head to Sky, a clear question of ‘you alright?’ and Sky nods, turning his attention back to Ooccoo just in time to hear her switch from talking about some dungeon adventure to prattling about her son.  He grimaces and catches Wind’s eye from where the younger hero is standing a little ways off, clearly now bored with the conversation.  

Luckily, Twilight takes the moment to step in, his twang as thick as tree sap as he ‘oh so politely’ tells Ooccoo that they ‘must be going’ and that ‘yes, he’ll promise to keep in touch and visit sometime’ and a few other things before he grabs Ooccoo from the ground and quite literally chucks her into the air, giving a lazy salute as she rights herself with a squawk and then begins to make her way skyward, her tiny wings flapping furiously as she calls out her ‘goodbyes.’

“Are all the magical creatures from your world that annoying?” Wind asks as the three of them watch her go.  He doesn’t wait for Twilight to respond, turning on his heel and stalking back to where they had set up their small camp under the overhang of a ruined archway.  Sky’s gaze follows him, mind still a mess of mixed feelings and questions, when he feels Twilight come up beside him, bumping him with his shoulder.  

“I know whatch’ya thinkin’,” he says and Sky hums and thinks that that’s probably true.  “I’ve been up there,” Twilight continues and shrugs when Sky turns to look at him.  “I could take you up there.  You could see for yourself if it’s really… you know.”  

Sky stares at him for a moment longer, before turning his gaze upwards and watching as the clouds pass lazily overhead; he wonders if, somewhere above them, his former home still stands, a refuge to a new people.  

“Did I ever tell you the story of how my people all got up there?” He asks instead of giving Twilight a proper answer.  

“Not the full story, no.”  

“It’s rather interesting, I think,” Sky murmurs, still staring up.  “Lots of godly powers and great evil and people being brought up into the heavens…”  

“To be close to Hylia?” 

“Something like that,” Sky says and sighs, dropping his head and looking to where Wind is sat by the fire, rummaging through his bag.  “Come on, I’ll tell you over supper.” 

“I can’t wait till we meet up with the others so the Cub can cook us good food again.”  

Sky cracks a small smile, leading the way back to their camp.  In the distance, the low rumble of thunder begets a storm, but ignores it for now in favor of pulling his sail cloth from his shoulders and tracing the seams with his thumb, the familiar ridges comforting.  

“Here,” he says, handing it to Twilight, who takes it with cautious reverence.  Sky points to the top, trailing his finger along the patterns.  “I guess I should start from the beginning…”