Archive of Our Own ^beta

     In the far future, The Hero of Legend will have many of his tales told. He will be praised and worshipped and used as a bedtime story to comfort children as times get bleaker. There are many things the public will know about him.

     There are many things they will not.

     When The Hero of Legend is but a child, his hair a brilliant pink and his hands too small to fit around the hilt of his borrowed sword in entirety, he is sent to a realm where darkness weighs so heavily on him he feels like he may drown.

     It likely doesn’t help that he’s a bunny for this.

     Nobody knows what kind of effect a dark realm may have on a body as fragile as his. He screams when he is removed from it, feeling like every cell in his body is splitting in two and circulating through his bloodstream like acid.

     He doesn’t find out what has changed until much later.

     Hyrule is restored to an era of peace, but the soldiers are not all freed. Occasionally he will have to fight one off, especially if they see him with the princess. However, he has his uncle back, and he is happy again. Everything is going okay, even with the weight of Hero weighing down on his narrow shoulders.

     He is walking with Zelda when his body lights up. He can’t scream, for his mouth is filling with his own hot blood. When he looks down, a blade stained ruby red is sticking out of his chest. The soldier yanks it back out, and walks away. He collapses to the ground, and Zelda falls to her knees next to him, holding his head to her chest and begging him to be okay.

     Everything goes dark, and then he jolts awake again. 

     Zelda is sobbing, and he grasps her hand, blood smearing across their palms. His heart is beating, and despite it being erratic he is alive and his fatal wound is closing.

     They don’t talk about it for months.

     It happens again and again. He grows more reckless as he goes. He knows no sword will kill him, no arrow will keep him down. The goddesses look at him in pity.

     It doesn’t happen on Koholint. He doesn’t get hurt on Koholint. Until later, he won’t consider why .

     Ravio screams the first time he sees it happen.

     His reaction is much like Zelda’s. He cries for the hero to open his eyes and survive this and he cannot reassure Ravio he will until he shoots back up, panting.

     Ravio helps him clean himself up, but stares at him with something the hero will think maybe would be horror, if he could see Ravio’s face.

     He hates it.

    Legend knows he’s a monster. It takes him some time to come to terms with it, but in the end, he doesn’t even have plausible deniability.

     The Hero of Legend is eventually shortened to Legend. He meets the other incarnations of himself, and is branded for his disregard for pants and his sarcastic humour.

     He is glad that is all it’s for.

     Legend never learns to explain to them how he heals so fast, so he chalks it up to experience. Suddenly, he is being careful again. He doesn’t to put them through the trauma of seeing him die and wake up again. He doesn’t want them to see him sewing his limbs back on after a hard battle so they can heal.

     He’s heard Ravio cry over nightmares from that moment. He’s seen the haunted look in Zelda’s eyes when he visits her sometimes. He can’t put the others through that.

     The only thing he will ever thank the goddess for is that his uncle never did find out. May he rest in peace.

     It happens eventually. Legend had made plans to convince nearly everyone not to tell the others, so go figure the one who found him would be someone he hadn’t quite decoded.

     Legend wakes up, head pounding. Someone is carrying him, but the sun hurts too much to look at. He curls into their arms, shoving his face into the comfortable darkness of their tunic fabric.

     The person freezes. “...Legend?”

     He knows that insufferable voice. “Mhm,” He slurs. “...Wars?”

     “Holy shit,” Warriors states, and drops him.

     “You fucking dropped me!” Legend shouts, trying to scrub the blood from his hair in the river. Warriors sits on a nearby rock, pinching the bridge of his nose.

     “That is the least of my worries,” Warriors spits. “You died! You had a dent in your skull and you were covered in blood and your heart wasn’t beating!”

     Legend would retort usually. He’d poke at Warriors until Time told them to knock it off. But something in his tone, laying underneath the anger, reminds Legend of himself.

     “...I did,” Legend says after a moment, purposefully level. “It happens, on occasion.”

     “How did you come back ?” Warriors asks, tone borderline hysterical. He’s pulling at his perfect hair, and Legend rushes over and grabs his wrists, pulling his hands from his head so he doesn’t do any real damage.

     “It’s an incredibly long story,” Legend shrugs. “But I’m fine.”

     “You were cold, Legend! I grabbed you and I shook you and I screamed and you didn’t respond! Your eyes were looking right through me! You were dead!”

     Legend places one of Warriors’ hands on his cheek, and the other over his heart. “I am alive. I am warm and breathing and my heart is beating. I am looking directly at you.”

     Warriors exhales. He leaves his hands where they are, but he drops his head and stares between his feet.

     “Yeah,” He says, and that’s the end of it.

    Warriors pulls him aside and demands the story later.

    Legend finds he doesn’t know how to tell it.

    Warriors is watching him. He’s obvious. Legend can feel his stare.

    Logically, he knows why. Warriors found his corpse. Legend didn’t mean for it to happen, but one of the others knew his secret. He trusts Warriors, as much as they bicker, not to reveal his secret. He knows Warriors wouldn’t do that to him. Not over something as serious as this.

    “I’m not Wind,” Legend snaps one night when he’s on watch and can feel Warriors’ eyes boring holes into his back. “You don’t have to watch me. I’m not a kid.”

    “Can’t agree or disagree,” comes Warriors’ quiet voice in response. “You refuse to tell anyone how old you are.”

    Legend would admit he has a point, but doesn’t want to say anything. He knows Warriors would be smug if he gave away his real age, so he instead replies, “Point is, I can take care of myself.”

    There’s a long pause.

    “See, of that I’m not so sure,” Warriors says finally. His voice is clear and rustling comes from behind Legend, until Warriors is sitting next to him. “Legend, I didn’t just find your body, you… do you not remember?”

    Legend shakes his head. He truly doesn’t. He doesn’t usually remember how he dies, especially if it’s long or painful. His brain blocks it out. He’s died too many times for it to care.

    Warriors hums in response. Legend can’t decode it, but he lets the captain sit there. It seems to be making him feel better. Goddess knows Legend doesn’t know how to do that.

    “I know you think I don’t like you-” Warriors starts.

    “Captain-”

    “No, wait. Hear me out. I know you think I don’t like you, and I know you don’t like me, but I do care about all of you. I care about you, Legend. You died in my arms and I thought that was it, and you kept telling me it was fine but it wasn’t and you died and I sat there for so long and you were cold -”

    “Warriors-”

    “No! Legend, how is this okay for you? You… it’s gotta hurt, and you’re just okay with it ?”

    “I don’t have a choice ! It definitely makes things easier!”

    Warriors throws his hands up, and then presses his eyes to the palms of his fists. He inhales and exhales slowly.

    “Warriors, I didn’t mean-”

    “I need some air. I’ll patrol,” Warriors snaps, pushing himself to his feet. Legend makes a failed grab at the end of the scarf. Better, he supposes, to let the captain blow off steam. Legend groans, and buries his face in his hands as well. He messed that one up. Royally. Monster .

    They end up in Wind’s Hyrule, on a ship. Legend feels too sick to actively seek Warriors out and explain himself. Like the clouds are going to pull them all down over and over, and Legend won’t be able to live or be able to die. He’ll just be . Miserably. A monster by the seaside (once again)- a monster by the sea (never again)-

    It doesn’t happen. The fear remains.

    Legend’s vision is going blurry from blood loss, but he sits himself against a thick tree trunk nonetheless. His arm had been entirely severed, and he doesn’t quite know how he plans to sew it back on evenly. Whatever. He was stuck with an uneven arm for nine months, once.

    “Legend?” He hears, or he may be hallucinating. He’s dizzy.

    A hand pushes back the brush, and someone kneels in front of him.

    “Wars..?” He mumbles, registering how incredibly familiar the situation feels.

    “Yeah,” Warriors replies softly, brushing Legend’s bangs from his face. It’s comforting. Legend wants to lean into it, but the pain in his arm reminds him of his task.

    “What do you need me to do?” Warriors asks, taking the needle and thread from his shaking hands, and Legend could very well cry. Why is Warriors being so kind? Legend hasn’t been…

    It takes a while, but Legend stutters out directions. Warriors hands him a ball of the scarf he always wears to squeeze as the needle dips in and out of the wound. Legend is sort of impressed at how unfazed Warriors is, but then he remembers the stories of war.

    Then he’s not as surprised.

    He doesn’t even realise it’s done, but Warriors shoves a red potion into his hands and urges him to stay awake. Legend thinks it would be easier to just die. He’s covered in his own blood, and he’s tired. But Warriors is here, and he really wants to make up for what he did. He can’t die in front of Warriors again. He’s been trying so hard not to be as reckless. For all of them.

    “You’re okay,” Warriors soothes, running a hand up and down his back as he sits on Legend’s uninjured side. “Drink slowly. Don’t get sick.”

    Legend unconsciously leans into the contact. He realises what he’s doing, but presses his shoulder to Warriors’ nonetheless. It’s nice, having someone warm. Someone who can hold him up when he can’t. Someone who knows his secret, and is strong enough to bear the weight of it - Even if he is a monster, someone is still in his corner.

    Legend feels less alone, in a way. It seems silly, considering he was never really alone in the first place.

    Warriors basically carries Legend back to camp. He’s hidden the sutures on Legend’s arm well, and when Hyrule goes over his injuries with magic, the others remain unaware of the barely-attached limb.

    Legend wakes up late into the night, in his bedroll. Warriors is on watch. This too feels oddly familiar, but very different. Maybe the conversation will change.

    “Good morning,” Warriors greets as Legend comes up next to him, blanket pulled around his shoulders. Legend’s feet are bare, and the grass is cool beneath them.

    “It’s the middle of the night, Captain,” Legend scoffs.

    “No, see? The sun will be coming up over there in just a few minutes. Watch with me,” Warriors smiles, patting the spot on the large rock next to him. Legend sits, curling his legs under him on the blanket to avoid touching the cold rock to his skin.

    Warriors is correct. The sun begins rising, and for a while, they both stare.

    “I’m not mad at you,” Warriors finally says.

    “You’re not?” Legend asks, genuinely surprised. He’s devoid of his usual snark. It feels strange to be so unprotected.

    “No.”

    “...Why are you mad, then?”

    “I’m mad at whatever made you think that dying was okay. And whatever caused this to happen to you. Not you, though. Never you. What kind of control over it did you have?”

    Legend is stunned into silence. He didn’t expect… understanding.

    “I’m a monster, Wars,” Legend replies bluntly. “No two ways about it.”

    Warriors turns towards him so quickly Legend could swear he’d done something like teleport. Snap his spine, maybe.

    “No,” Warriors snaps with more force than strictly necessary. “You are not a monster. Did you cause this?”

    “Kinda-”

    “ No , Legend. Did you cause this? Yes or no?”

    “...”

    Warriors nods. “I didn’t think so.”

    Then, quieter, he adds, “How old were you? When it happened?”

    “...Eleven.”

    Warriors, to his credit, doesn’t flinch too noticeably. “And when you died the first time?”

    “...Guess,” Legend laughs bitterly. “You know my luck.”

    “ Oh ,” Warrior says, and it’s far too quiet. “How old… are you now?”

    Legend shrugs. He’s not entirely sure. He’s sure Ravio knows how old they are, but he can’t exactly ask. Warriors seems to accept this as an answer. He puts an arm around Legend’s shoulders and pulls him closer just slightly, and they both, in true them fashion, pretend like it isn’t happening. Easier to deal with that way.

    At the very least, Warriors has stopped hovering all of the time.

    Everything’s almost back to normal now, and Legend knows Warriors isn’t mad at him, and everything is fine, right?

    Everything would be fine if Legend could stop thinking about something Warriors had said. You are not a monster , he’d said. Did you cause this?

    Legend thought he knew he was a monster. He’d come to terms with the fact (maybe not okay with it but since when is anything in his life ever okay? foreign jokes nothing’s been okay for longer than he can remember-) . Is he really… not? Maybe… he’s just a boy. He hasn’t been just a boy in so long.

    Warriors has taken to finding him and taking up post by his side after every battle or fight or scrape (sort of hovering but the level that Legend can deal with-) . He watches Legend out of the corner of his eye, making sure none of his limbs are just slightly out of proportion or balance and honestly does the captain think of him as a child or someone unable to-

    No , Legend scolds himself. That’s not fair to Warriors. In some detached way, he understands completely why Warriors feels the way he does. Wouldn’t he, if it was anyone else? And Warriors is known for his persistent older brother attitude when it comes to the wellbeing of the rest of the group.

    He knows Warriors is just looking out for him, but he feels like the subject of a lab trial, in some ways. He’s watched and prodded and sewn back up when he falls apart. He knows Warriors would never do that to him, anyways. 

    Because for whatever reason, Warriors doesn’t seem to believe he’s any kind of monster. Legend wonders why.

    They’ve appeared in Legend’s hyrule, and while the others are joking around in his living room and getting cleaned up in the wash basin in the kitchen, Ravio pulls him into the bedroom and demands to see his arm.

    “How did you know ?” Legend asks, incredulous, pulling his tunic over his head.

    “You’re a surprisingly bad liar,” Ravio nods. “Who did these? Usually when you reattach arms they’re all crooked and then I have to fix them, and that’s not a fun process for either of us, Mr. Hero.”

    “Warriors,” Legend replies, and doesn’t miss the way Ravio’s eyes widen.

    “So you’re finally friends?” He asks, inspecting the sutures. Legend thinks they’re probably ready to be removed, but Ravio’s much better at this sort of thing and that’s a proven fact, so he lets his friend judge.

    “Uh,” Legend tries not to shrug on instinct, lest he mess up Ravio’s careful inspection. “Not sure?”

    “This is gonna sting, Mr. Hero,” Ravio warns as he takes a pair of small silver scissors to the stitches. The skin has healed up around them, and Legend flinches when the scissors snip the thin layer of skin overlaying the thread. “What do you mean, not sure?”

    “He, uh, found out, and I thought he was mad at me for a while, but he wasn’t? And then he told me I-”

    Legend stops there. Ravio gives him a sad look.

    “You’re not a monster, Link,” He says, dabbing at the skin with a towel he cut as he removes the thread altogether. “We’ve been over this.”

    Why can’t he believe it? This isn’t the fate he wanted and with the selfless amount of work he’s put into the world over his life it isn’t the one he thinks he deserves- or maybe he does who’s he to judge the goddess on her choices-

    Legend lets Ravio finish the bandages on his arm. He doesn’t respond. He can’t.

    Legend sits next to Hyrule when Ravio finally releases him from healthcare. He puts his arm on the back of the couch behind Hyrule, and he relishes in having a full range of motion for a little bit. It’s so good to be able to use his arm completely again.

    Ravio is bustling around, trying to accommodate their guests in that bouncy-customer-service way of his. It remains a mystery to Legend where he even gets all of his energy, but at least the house is far cleaner than how it was left.

    Legend pulls Ravio aside once more that night, as the others are setting out their bedrolls on the floor.

    “How old are we?” Legend asks bluntly.

    “Why, Mr. Hero, you’ve forgotten? I even made you a cupcake! We just turned nineteen!”

    Nineteen? No way , is all Legend can think as Ravio leads him to the kitchen and thrusts a cupcake with a singular candle into his hands. Is he really nineteen? He started adventuring when he was barely eleven, and now nineteen? Eight years… and he’s not even done.

    He eats the cupcake for Ravio’s sake. He can’t stop thinking about it. Nineteen. Nineteen. Nineteen. Nineteen. Nineteen.

    This time, he misses the sad look he’s given. He twists the bracelet around his wrist as the number bounces around in his head. Nineteen.

    “Are you okay?” Twilight asks him the next day, in the gentle kind of way Legend’s seen him talk to Epona or any other animal (Legend’s not an animal but he’s not exactly human is he so where does that leave him on this scale of Twi’s-) . He shrugs the rancher off with a nod, huff, and shrug. Twilight gets the message and leaves him alone.

    Legend doesn’t feel too guilty. It was sort of patronizing, anyways.

    There’s a skirmish on the road and then another. They all make it out relatively unscathed, and somewhere along the line, a portal takes them to a path that’s less clear and a wood that’s far more dense.

    Wild whoops when he finally gets signal on his slate’s map. He explains that they’re relatively close to a village, and that they’ll be there by nightfall. Legend doesn’t really mind all the walking. At some point, Warriors falls into step next to him.

    “What’s up with you?” He asks, and Legend huffs again. It’s less nice this time, but Warriors tries again.

    Legend groans internally. Why won’t Warriors stop talking to him? He’s just… needs to think alone (nineteen nineteen nineteen nineteen) , and-

    Legend shrieks when something wraps around him, tight. It’s warm. It’s Warriors, he realises as he pushes away, who just took an arrow to the left shoulder for Legend.

    “Idiot,” Legend hisses, pulling him closer to the group. They’ve lagged considerably far behind. “Which one of us will be fine losing a limb again? Fuck , Warriors, do you ever use that strategic brain that your troops boast about?”

    “Not the point,” Warriors grits his teeth, holding his shoulder. “Point was to stop you from getting shot between the eyes.”

    “Which one of us comes back from that, again?” Legend asks, and doesn’t need to make eye contact to know he’s made Warriors upset. He doesn’t say another word, but instead attempts to meet in the middle with the others when Warriors is wrenched-

    Legend spins on his heel and draws his sword. A burly man in red (those assassins Wild had warned them about before?) has an arm locked around Warriors’ throat, and the captain is scrabbling to get free, gasping like a fish.

    “Not another step,” The man rumbles. Legend doesn’t know what he can do. He needs to get Warriors away from that man, but how does he intend to do so? He could… 

    Warriors would be furious, but it may be the only choice.

    Legend sighs and drops his sword, glancing back at the others, who are horrified, frozen in place.

    “Give us the hero, and maybe some of you can live,” The man boasts, squeezing Warriors’ throat tighter. Warriors’ fingers are digging into the arm holding him, but he can’t get free, and his lips are blue, and Legend winks back at Wild and takes a deep breath.

    Legend is fast on his feet and he knows it. He slumps his shoulders, acts defeated, and when the man throws his head back to laugh, he charges.

    Legend pulls the knife from his boot and slashes the man’s inner elbow. His arm releases in pain, and Legend uses his momentum to throw Warriors forward, effectively switching spots with him. Wild and Twilight are no slouches either - They’re there to pull Warriors back and out of the way as soon as he’s shoved away from the danger, even while they stare at Legend in fear.

    The man curses, and backhands Legend across the face so hard it takes his feet out from under him. Legend lands on his back, and a heavy boot lays itself on his sternum. He coughs.

    “A rat under my boot,” The man sneers, staring down at him. Legend can hear the others yelling. Warriors is loudest. The man positions his sword over Legend’s heart.

    Legend turns his head to smile at the others one last time (at least for this life, it’s not like this is the end of him anyways-) . Then his face twists into a grin Zelda has always called trouble, and he grabs the sword with both of his hands and plunges it down into his chest all on his own.

    The man visibly recoils in shock as Legend convulses, and he hears screams of his name before he blacks out entirely.

    Legend wakes up, and there is a sword in his chest.

    He pulls it out. Somehow, his heart is okay. He’s bleeding, but it’s not so terrible, he thinks, that he can’t get through this final stretch before dying again.

    The burly man in red is using Legend’s sword, and he’s not overly happy about it. Legend makes sure to stay as silent as possible, sneaking up behind him. (what would qualify him as a monster? the others know now and are they going to be so understanding? will coming back from the dead and taking a life as his first action in redemption condemn him in the eyes of the heroes?) With one mighty swing, he thrusts the sword through the man’s throat.

    “I think,” Legend grins, walking in front of him, between him and the others, “That sword is mine. You’re welcome to have yours, though!”

    Legend’s back is burning with the ferocity of eight stares. He can feel each individually and if he tries hard enough, probably identify who they’re from. He’s not sure he wants to.

    The man cannot talk - blood is gurgling from his lips down his chin and into his uniform. Legend shoves him down, and turns as the life drains out of him. Legend doesn’t care to see it. Instead, he turns to the others, only to nearly be toppled over.

    “How dare you pull a stunt like that,” Warriors cries, arms wrapped around Legend tightly. The arrow wound is seemingly gone (probably a potion), and Legend doesn’t know whether to squirm away or hug back. His face is uncomfortably pressed into Warriors’ chest.

    “It was your life for good or mine temporarily, captain,” Legend murmurs in response, settling for shifting until he’s comfortable and hugging Warriors in return. “Easy choice to make. Your life is worth…”

    Legend’s vision is gaining dark spots. Warriors presses a red potion into his hand, and pushes his hand up to his mouth. Legend takes the potion, an arm still wrapped around Warriors’ shoulders, and right before everything goes dark again (in a warmsafe way, not the way that death feels with the coldfeardark, an absence of light and feeling and humanity-) , he feels someone’s arms lifting him up. He relaxes.

    Feels safe.

    “Let go,” is the first thing Legend mumbles when he wakes up. He’s resting sitting up against Warriors, and he’s wearing someone’s undershirt in place of his own (Twilight, maybe? Smells like Twilight, he thinks) and when he shifts, he can feel the bandages around his chest.

    “Welcome back,” Warriors ruffles Legend’s hair, who slides away in return. He offhandedly wonders where his hat went.

    “Wind and Time are trying to get the blood out of your clothes,” Warriors supplies. “They left a little before you woke up. Do you feel okay?”

    “Yeah,” Legend nods, spacing out. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

    “Good,” Warriors says. “Then you can walk to where we’re headed. Also, when we return, you have some explaining to do. To the rest of them. I tried to get them off your back, but…”

    “What?” Legend questions, but lets Warriors pull him to his feet and lead him through the woods until they reach a small pond embedded in tree roots.

    Legend sits at the edge and dips his feet in. It’s pleasantly warm.

    “Now,” Warriors deadpans. Legend stiffens at his tone. “What were you saying? Because Legend, if it was that your life is worth less than mine for whatever reason-”

    “It is ,” Legend murmurs, but Warriors picks it up all the same, slips off his boots, and sits next to him, feet in the water.

    “How so?”

    “You only have one life. You’re still full of light and victory and you haven’t been running goddess errands for eight years without end .”

    Warriors freezes. “You found out how old you were?”

    “Asked Ravio,” Legend shrugs, trying very hard to hold back the heat in his eyes. “He said we’re just barely nineteen. Eight years , Warriors. Eight years and not a damn thing this monster has done will matter in the end.”

    “You’re. Not. A. Monster,” Warriors says slowly. “Repeat after me. I am not a monster.”

    “I…” Legend begins, but finds he can’t finish the statement. He stares down at his unblemished hands. They shouldn’t be soft, and his legs shouldn’t be scarless, and he shouldn’t even still be alive but he is, and-

    “Oh, Legend,” Warriors murmurs. He wraps his arms around Legend, and Legend hugged back with a ferocity he didn’t know he had left in him. It’s warm and safe and he hasn’t been hugged like this in so long -

    “You’re not a monster, Legend. You’re a kid who’s living an unjust fate you couldn’t even begin to deserve.. I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.”

    Legend presses his face deeper into Warriors’ shoulder and takes a deep breath, trying to urge away the hot itchiness in his eyes.