Chapter 1
Summary:
In which Twilight and Wild get jobs, Wind and Warriors play a game, and Time becomes reacquainted with an old friend.
Notes:
This story is dedicated to some very good eggs.
A/N: Updated on 12/2/21 for just some minor line edits.
Chapter Text
‘Brave’ is the laurel that they gave to me
With a blade at my shoulder as I took a knee,
When they decked me out in their red, blue, and gold
And I swore to serve them just as I was told.
I swallowed my ethics - just be good, behave -
And now it was mocking when they called me brave.
They pushed past my limits and called it tradition,
While they ground me down for the sake of my mission.
But then, one by one, all their lies fell away
And I was the last one to stand in the way.
Bravely I stood for what I knew was right
But the whole world had turned and now I was the blight.
I had sharpened the knife in my back with their lies;
They called valor a virtue and sent me to die
And with dry eyes leave iris and rue on my grave
For only the doomed are ever called ‘brave.’
***
Saria sat quietly at her desk clasping a warm mug of tea. It was a pleasant accompaniment to the steely sky outside her window. Occasionally, she would scratch notes onto her yellow legal pad. Mainly she maintained polite eye contact with the new patient seated opposite her, nodding on occasion.
Time was an odd patient. He would sit and calmly discuss the violent acts he’d performed in a cold, clinical manner. His delivery was matter-of-fact, and he nearly sounded bored as he relayed the grisly details of bludgeoning someone to death in his own home. Even when describing the extent of the injuries he himself had suffered, it was without much emotional affect.
It would usually take several sessions for a patient to talk so openly about these things with her, which made her wonder what his ulterior motive was. Normally, her patients with such a violent history were mandated to come see her by a judge or as part of a rehabilitation program. But Time had come to her willingly, on his own, with no apparent prompting from a higher authority. Although it made her initially suspicious, she really didn’t get the impression that he was lying to her face.
Their first consultation went suspiciously well. Time was well-dressed and well-spoken, and he discussed his past openly and frankly with her. She watched him carefully throughout the session, searching for a tell. Time maintained unwavering eye contact with his one good eye.
It wasn’t until their last fifteen or twenty minutes that something changed. He shifted slightly in his chair, crossing his legs, and avoided eye contact for the first time since he’d sat down.
“I know we only have a few minutes left. Can I talk about something a little off-topic?”
“Of course.”
He glanced pointedly at her notebook, quietly waiting. Quirking a brow, Saria slowly set down her pen.
“I want to—... Hmm.” Time leaned forward in the plush leather chair, setting his elbows on his knees and rubbing at his eyes. Trying to hide his face. “It’s about the boys.”
‘The boys.’ They came up fairly often during the latter part of their session, and something subtle changed in Time’s voice whenever he brought them up. “Okay,” Saria spoke in an encouraging tone. “How many boys do you have?”
“Oh, they’re not mine -mine,” Time half-laughed. He still didn’t look at her. “There are eight of them.”
“Eight?” Saria quietly commended herself for not letting her incredulity slip.
“Yes,” Time replied, “Twilight, Wild, Warriors, Sky, Legend, Hyrule, Four, and Wind.” He rattled off their names with practiced speed, making the long and awkward pause following that much more obvious.
Time glanced at Saria’s face for any sort of feedback. Her smile was benign.
“They… care about me.” He winced as it came out more like a question than a statement. “They do, they— They’ve helped me through a lot lately. They really have.”
“It’s good to have a support network,” Saria supplied.
“It is, it is,” Time parroted, but something subtle had changed in his tone. “I just…”
He no longer sounded like the stoic, professional killer, confident and detached.
“I’m so worried I’m going to hurt them.”
For the first time since he’d sat down, Time sounded frightened.
***
Twilight’s phone hummed on his bedside table. He blindly snaked an arm out from beneath the comforter to silence it, withdrawing back into the warmth of his bedding immediately. His bedroom window faced east but the sun wasn’t up yet. It made the struggle to leave the comfort of his bed that much harder.
He had laid out his clothes the night prior to make his life a little easier. As he pulled his shirt on, he heard soft footfalls on the stairs. He’d timed it right today. He sped up his routine a bit, sneaking down the hallway to splash some water on his face and making a token effort to fix his bed head before creeping down the stairs in silence.
When Twilight opened the front door, he feigned surprise to find Time on the porch. The older man, who was genuinely surprised to see him, was busy stretching. “You’re up early today,” Time greeted him. “Going out for a run?”
“Yeah, time to get back into old habits I guess.” Twilight suppressed a shiver; the air was much cooler than he was dressed for.
Time glanced down at Twilight’s feet and back up to his face. Twilight followed his gaze, realizing with a bit of embarrassment that in his haste he’d forgotten to tie his shoes. “Uh, I’m not too familiar with the new neighborhood,” he went on, avoiding eye contact as he crouched to pull on his laces. “Do you know any good places to run around here?”
“Sanidin Park has some nice trails, and it’s pretty quiet at this hour.” Finished with his stretches, Time descended the front porch steps, and Twilight’s brief disappointment was snuffed by Time’s small smile. “If you think you can keep up,” he teased, “you’re welcome to tag along.”
Getting started was always the hardest part of a run. Twilight’s joints felt stiff in the chilly morning air and he wished he’d grabbed a more robust layer than his thin long-sleeved shirt. After the first few minutes, though, he had warmed up enough to settle into a comfortable jog. He stayed one half-step behind on Time’s blind side, keeping up with only a small amount of difficulty.
As the capital of Hyrule, Castle Town was much cleaner and more sprawling than Termina. Their new townhouse was located in the historical district, a neighborhood dotted with quaint corner cafes and small bakeries. This and the other residential districts that made up the perimeter of the town were corralled in by a tall stone wall - a testament to the town’s murky history.
Time and Twilight wound their way through the neighborhood, heading deeper into the capital. Sanidin Park was nestled at the edge of the historical district, separating it from the boisterous shopping and entertainment districts beyond. Farther toward the center of the city, taller buildings stretched into the sky: government and legislative offices, hospitals, a university. Beyond that, Hyrule Castle itself stood on the horizon, proudly overlooking its citizens.
The pair jogged together in amicable silence while the sky became brighter with the promise of sunrise. Time was right; there was hardly anyone else out at this hour. The thick underbrush glowed pink and blue as fairies floated among the leaves, stirring as the pair jogged past. The rhythmic sound of their footsteps on the pavement was meditative, and Twilight breathed with their footfalls to even out his pace - in in, out out, in in, out out…
“So, have you started looking for work?”
“Yeah,” Twilight spoke between breaths, “Wild and I are heading out today to a few places downtown.”
“Good. You should take the rest of them along with you.”
“Not if we want to be taken seriously.”
Time huffed a laugh. “I’m honestly still surprised everyone wanted to come along. This is a bit far from Termina.”
“Well Sky and Wars are from here originally, and Hyrule’s fellowship required him to move here.” Twilight counted them on his fingers. “Wild, Four, and Legend... have nowhere else to go, I don’t think.”
Time hummed quietly, and Twilight didn’t miss the concern in his tone. “You’re forgetting Wind,” he added.
“No, no I’m not.” Twilight’s voice was flat. “That little criminal needs to be kicked out.”
“What did he hack now?”
“My phone,” Twilight spat. “He changed my passcode again . I had to pay him fifty rupees this time.”
Time chuckled. “We’ll have a talk.”
Twilight eyed the castle in the distance, bedecked in blue and gold banners. “And today is your first day back at work?”
“Yes,” Time replied. Although his tone was pleasant, the terse reply let Twilight know that was all he was getting.
As they wound back around to the entrance to the park, Time picked up the pace a bit, and Twilight hurried to keep up. Time kept pushing and pushing until Twilight lagged behind by a few steps before dropping back to a pace they could both maintain. By the time they made it back to the townhouse, Twilight was quite winded. He leaned forward to rest his hands on his knees as he panted.
Time ascended the porch steps ahead of him, fishing his keys from his pocket. “Not bad for an old man, huh?”
Twilight lifted his eyes to glare up at Time who grinned slyly in return. He followed behind Time, closing the door behind himself. One, two, three heavy locks secured the main entrance to their home. While some might consider it overkill, Twilight found the extra security comforting.
Time had made a fair number of changes to the home before they’d all moved in. Some were small, like extra locks on the outside doors. Some were more involved, like opening up the floor plan on the first floor so that no one could be trapped in any room, socially or otherwise. Some weren’t subtle at all, like the complete kitchen overhaul or splitting the bedrooms and offices on the second floor so that each of the boys could have their own private space in the house, even though a few had decided to share rooms.
“Well, on the subject of finding work,” Time went on, tossing Twilight a bottle of water from the fridge, “if you need help I do have some people I can reach out to. That goes for your friends as well.”
“Appreciate it,” Twilight replied genuinely.
Time nodded, crossing the kitchen toward the hallway. “Now, if you aren’t too tired from our little jog, you are welcome to come downstairs and—”
Twilight nearly choked on his water in disbelief. “The gym isn’t off-limits?”
“It’s not on the third floor, is it?” Time pushed open the basement door and flicked on the light. “What’s mine is yours, whether I like it or not.”
Twilight could hear the smile in Time’s voice as he descended the steps.
***
“What sort of experience do you have, again?”
The coffee shop was buzzing with the sounds of bustling patrons and frothing milk. The smell of a rich dark roast had beckoned them through the door, but Twilight felt distinctly unwelcome now that they stood in front of a harried shift manager.
Wild perked up at the question. “I was working at a busy steakhouse back in Termina, and before that I assisted in—”
Twilight could tell that the manager wasn’t really listening. Her eyes flicked to the right every now and again as she looked Wild over. The way her lips thinned made Twilight flex his fingers.
“And what about you?” She turned to Twilight, giving him a tight smile.
“Well, in Termina I was working at a small grocer, ma’am. Prior to that, I mainly worked around the family farm, and at our farm stand on weekends—”
As he was talking, Twilight watched her eyes trace a slow line to just up above his eyes. Twilight’s jaw flexed.
“Alright, well leave me your contact information and I’ll talk with the owner. We’ll call you if we’re interested.”
The chime on the door to the coffee shop sounded much like the chime at the florist, and the one at the deli, and the one at the bookstore. Twilight pulled a wrinkled section of newspaper from his back pocket as he and Wild sat down dejectedly on a bench.
“I don’t get it, man.” Wild leaned back, tilting his face toward the sky. “How could they advertise that they ‘desperately need help,’ but what, we’re not good enough?”
“I don’t know.” Twilight frowned as Wild scrubbed his face in frustration. He didn’t have the heart to point it out, but he had his suspicions that he and Wild wouldn’t be welcome in what was considered a genteel neighborhood.
“Did the old man say where he might be able to find us some work?”
“He didn’t.” Twilight scrutinized the map on his phone. “I’m not ready to give up and ask him for a favor yet, though.”
“Why not?” Wild leaned against Twilight’s shoulder, his eyes scanning the newspaper in Twilight’s lap.
“Because he’s already done a lot to move us all here, and he’s giving us a break on the rent for the first couple months. The least we can do is try to find our own jobs.”
“Maybe Legend needs help with his creepy online store.”
“I am not getting involved in that kind of stuff. Besides, I’d rather not have to deal with his shifty friend, either.”
“Yeah, the bunny hood is a little weird…” Wild hummed, slouching down onto the bench. “How is Wind paying his rent?”
“Extortion,” Twilight snorted. “Or maybe he’s still taking out student loans, who knows.”
“Think Four needs help with his handyman thing?”
“I think Four will wring your neck if you break another wrench of his.” Twilight nudged Wild to sit up. “Here, there are two more places left to hit and this one is just five minutes away.”
It was, unfortunately, five minutes directly into a less savory side of town. They had to step over someone sleeping on the sidewalk and dodge broken glass on the steps as they made their way to the next stop. The neon sign creaked as it swayed in the breeze over the door to Telma’s Bar.
“We’re not open until noon,” announced the tired woman behind the bar as they entered.
“Um, we’re not here for service.” Twilight glanced around as they entered. Overall it was a modest space: a lengthy bar along one side of the room, an open floor plan with a few unfinished wooden tables and chairs, some lounging areas carved out near the front windows with ratty mismatched furniture, some pool tables near the back. As Twilight and Wild approached the bar, they were greeted by a judgemental cat with a squished face. “We’re here to answer your ‘help wanted’ ad.”
Bottles clinked and amber liquor sloshed as the woman stocked shelves against the wall. She was tall enough to not need a stool to reach the higher shelves. “Can you cook?”
“I can!” Wild piped up. “I was working at a busy steakhouse before moving here.”
“Okay,” she sounded pleased, although she didn’t turn toward them, “and what about bartending?”
Twilight straightened up from where he’d been allowing the cat to sniff at his face. “Can’t say I’ve done it, ma’am, but I’m willing to learn.”
“‘Ma’am’?” The woman turned and Twilight sucked in a breath, consciously keeping his eyes on her face and nowhere else. She was a tall, buxom woman who apparently wasn’t afraid to show it off as she stepped over toward the pair of tiny Hylians and leaned down to inspect them. Her eyes lingered on Twilight’s face for several seconds and he braced himself for the familiar frown of rejection. Instead, Telma smiled warmly. She turned toward Wild, taking him firmly by the cheeks and forcing his eyes up to meet hers. “What, are you two a package deal?”
Twilight put on his best country boy smile. “Not necessarily, ma’am, but it’d be mighty nice of you to hire us both.”
Telma put a finger to his lips that made Twilight’s ears burn. “If you call me ‘ma’am’ one more time, Pumpkin, I’m gonna slap that accent right out of your mouth.”
Twilight swallowed hard. Not trusting his voice, he merely nodded.
Pleased with his quick compliance, she smiled warmly at both of them again. “Well, Louise seems to like you already, and beggars can’t be choosy. Why don’t you come by on Saturday next week and we’ll see what you can do.”
Wild excitedly bounced along the street as they headed back toward home. “Well, that wasn’t so hard! Even though we had to stop so many places.”
“Yeah.” Twilight quirked a brow, stepping gingerly over the gentleman sleeping on the sidewalk. “Wish it was a little... closer to home, I guess.”
“Hey, Twi, did she even ask for our names?”
***
Being late for anything always made Time antsy. The hallways in the castle were only vaguely familiar and he had trouble navigating his way to the meeting hall. He nodded to the guards that greeted him at the entrance. They moved to open the way ahead of him, and he inhaled a steadying breath as the tall mahogany doors creaked open.
The warm greetings of old friends soothed his nerves immediately.
“Welcome back, Brother!” Time braced himself for the impact of Darunia’s broad open palm on his back, returning the gesture with one of his own.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Ruto’s gaze was sultry as she offered him her hand. Stiffly, Time kissed her ring as a sign of respect.
“That seems like a poor choice of words, doesn’t it?” Nabooru snickered at Ruto’s furious glare, gripping Time’s forearm firmly in a warrior’s greeting.
“Welcome.” Impa and Time shared a solemn nod. The tall Sheikah stepped back, gesturing to his place at the table. Dark oak was finely tooled in patterns of tendrils and leaves and branches. The upholstery was a rich emerald velvet. At its head was affixed a glimmering forest green medallion with four lines arcing away from the center.
Impa was the only one who knew that Time held his breath as he took his seat. It was as he remembered it: just slightly too big for him.
No sooner had he taken his seat than the doors were drawn open again, bringing everyone at the table to their feet.
“Our lady, the Queen of Hyrule,” announced one of the guards.
Lullaby smiled as she nodded in greeting to her gathered friends and confidants. She rounded the table in Time’s direction and as she approached, he reverently took a knee.
“There is no need for such formality here.” He looked up to find Lullaby smiling down at him, a familiar fondness in her eyes. “When you join us at this table, it is as an equal.”
Time smiled handsomely. “You have no equal in this place, my queen.” He stood as she offered her hand to him, kissing her ring.
“Welcome home, Link.”
Lullaby moved to her place immediately to Time’s right. Once she took her seat, the others followed suit. “Welcome, everyone, it’s a pleasure to see you all again despite the circumstances. Now that the Sages Council is once again complete,” her eyes shifted to Time momentarily, “I have confidence that we can overcome the looming threat of the Dragmire family and put their antagonism behind us once and for all.”
The name caused Time’s shoulders to imperceptibly tighten.
“Thanks to intelligence gathered from the Gerudo tribe,” Impa nodded in Nabooru’s direction, “we have learned that Ganondorf’s son, Ganon, has quickly risen to power within his father’s clan. He is not quiet about his grudge against the Hyrulean crown.” A stoic guard dimmed the lights at the back of the room and a screen mounted on the wall flickered to life. Two photos of the villain in question were displayed side by side: one a professional portrait in traditional Gerudo garb, the other a grainy surveillance still featuring the giant man emerging from a black car. “What we don’t know is his true intention: whether he is set on more subtle means of antagonism or if he intends to wage an all-out war.”
Darunia scoffed derisively. “Their numbers have dwindled and their power collapsed following Ganondorf’s death. There is no way they could mount an all-out war against us.”
Nabooru’s clear voice cut through the room: “Generations of strife, racism, and war have driven a wedge between our nations in the past. Although Hylians, Gerudo, Gorons, Rito, and Zora are now united in peace, not all of the Gerudo are ready to let go of their grudge.”
“Nor are the Dragmires the only group who would like to snatch up a piece of the castle if it were to fall,” Impa continued, her tone matter-of-fact. “Ganon has been forging alliances between his clan and other outlying groups, such as the Yiga and the Twili, to try and pose a more formidable threat against Hyrule. As such, we are developing a multifaceted approach to managing this threat.
“First, defensive measures. Thanks to generous benefactors hailing from each of your nations, we have made great strides in the defensive infrastructure of Hyrule.” Time’s eye flicked to the screen as a collection of short video clips cycled through: images of striking towers that jutted toward the sky like spears aimed at the heavens; a military demonstration of a two-handed weapon that glowed with blue energy and sliced through tree trunks with almost no effort; an automaton mounted near the entrance to the castle courtyard that surveyed the grounds with a single staring lens; a gigantic four-legged behemoth stalking the sands of the Gerudo desert. His brow twitched. The designs seemed rather eccentric.
“Second,” Lullaby continued, “strengthening our alliances. Although Ganon’s allies may be strong, ours will always be stronger.” She smiled at Ruto and Darunia. “This is the thirty-fifth anniversary of the reconstruction of Hyrule Castle. As such, we are organizing a commemorative ball in honor of our proud history. Such events are excellent celebrations of goodwill and can be used to strengthen diplomatic relations.”
“And while the queen focuses on positive diplomatic relations,” Impa meaningfully glanced toward Nabooru, then Time, “we must also work on the third prong of our approach: to neutralize the threat that the Dragmire clan poses in any way we can.”
Outside the chamber door, they heard the murmur of voices.
“Nabooru, your intelligence has been incredibly helpful in identifying the depth of this looming threat. And Link, it goes without saying that your skillset will be integral to our success.”
Time folded his hands on the tabletop. “Just provide your targets and leave the rest to me.”
The voices in the hallway were becoming louder, and Time’s ear twitched in distraction as he heard someone laughing on the other side of the door.
“Actually, Link,” Lullaby smiled kindly, “after you accepted your position on the Sages Council, we had convened to discuss what your role on the council should be. You have long served the people of Hyrule in silence. We have agreed that it’s time you are given the proper recognition you deserve.”
Time glanced around the table quickly, but the smiles of the other sages offered no clues. “I would never decline such an honor, but I worry that might defeat the purpose of my position.”
“Not so,” Impa intervened. “In the interest of helping you maintain anonymity, and considering your recognizability,” she added as tactfully as she could, “we have acquired for you a proxy.”
Time opened his mouth to question, but before he could, the chamber doors creaked open again.
“Well well well! If it isn’t the legend himself.”
The newest member of their closed-door meeting sauntered into the room, a reptilian grin splitting his face. He was clearly not dressed for the occasion, nor did he seem to care. His jeans were ripped and tattered, and his black leather jacket sported entirely too many zippers and flashy metal details. Raven hair was slicked back into a short ponytail, choppy bangs hanging over ruby red eyes. He was of the very same height and build as Time. They could be mirror images of one another if not for some of the more permanent alterations he’d made to his appearance.
Time worked to keep the surprise out of his demeanor, but he still passed Lullaby a questioning glance.
“Dark’s plea for parole was granted on one very specific condition,” she explained, “and considering our current predicament, we thought it made sense to bring him on board. He will be answering to you directly.” Her gaze softened as she watched Time’s discomfort mounting. “This way, you have a chance to keep your hands clean—”
“While I get to have all the fun.” Dark set his left hand on the tabletop next to Time, deliberately displaying the inverted triforce tattooed there. “Hmm, there’s something different about you… You’re a bit uglier than I remember. Did something happen to your face?”
“Dark,” Impa warned.
“I do not require a proxy.” Time kept his eyes on Lullaby, continuing as though Dark wasn’t there at all. “I have always worked alone.”
“Not completely alone,” Lullaby tried. Time’s jaw flexed.
“So things didn’t work out in Termina, then, huh?” Dark leaned in so close that his breath ruffled Time’s bangs. Time didn’t move an inch. “Pity, and I thought Happy would be a decent guy to work for.”
Time felt his ire rising, but Lullaby smiled at him sympathetically. “Yours will be a hard task, Link. You will need a partner in this, and Dark’s connections will help you.”
Dark moved to set his boot on the tabletop next to Time. The cuff of his jeans rode up to display the chunky plastic bracelet around his ankle. “Say, how’s that cute little redhead of yours? What was her name, Molly?”
Time stared at the tabletop directly in front of him. The air pressure in the room seemed to drop.
Dark leaned in close so that the others wouldn’t hear. “Does she still do that incredible thing with her—”
The flurry of violence that erupted in the meeting room was over as quickly as it started. Time had Dark pinned to the tabletop by the collar, his other fist drawn back to strike, before his chair even hit the ground behind him. The flash of surprise in Dark’s eyes was brief. He made no move to strike back, instead putting his palms up in a placating gesture, beginning to laugh only when Darunia intervened to pull Time off of him.
“That’s enough.” Impa took Dark roughly by the arm, leading him back toward the chamber door. “You weren’t supposed to be allowed in here in the first place.”
Time shrugged out of Darunia’s grip, straightening his coat. Dark grinned widely at Time, sparing him a wink as he was led toward the door. A bright ruby glinted where it pierced his tongue.
Time could scarcely focus throughout the rest of the meeting, and when it was adjourned he made no move to leave. Once the other sages had left and he was alone with Lullaby and Impa, the doors were closed again.
“This isn’t the same thing as assigning me a partner. You’re asking me to babysit an ex-con.”
“You will need him.”
“I can’t trust him to have my back when I’m worried he’s going to stab me in it!”
“He will be a valuable agent for us in tracking Ganon.”
“He cannot possibly be trusted not to run right back to—”
“Link,” Lullaby sighed, “you’re the only one who could possibly keep him under control.”
Time’s teeth clicked as his jaw snapped shut. He glanced from Lullaby to Impa and back, finding his answer in their eyes. Although his voice was still polite and respectful, he was unable to meet Lullaby’s eye as he stood from the table.
“I trust your wisdom, my queen.”
***
The rest of Time’s workday went mercifully much smoother than his meeting had. He was adept at projecting cool professionalism under duress, but he’d forgotten just how much energy it took out of him. By the time he rolled Epona back into the garage, he was ready to bypass the first floor entirely and head directly to bed. If only he’d followed his gut and installed a fire escape on the back of the townhouse...
“Shit, you’re cheating!”
“There is literally no way to cheat at this game.”
He could hear the boys even before he entered through the back door. Wind and Warriors were engaged in some lively competition over video games in the living room. Warriors lounged on the couch with one ankle crossed lazily over the opposite knee, tapping away at his controller nonchalantly. Wind sat on the floor mashing buttons with a vengeance. He kept inching closer to the screen as though that would help him win.
“You are just exceptionally bad at this game, Wind,” Legend said from his armchair in the corner, not lifting his eyes from his book.
“I am not! It’s just been a while since I’ve played.”
“Dude turn this up.” Wild snuck out into the living room, a dripping sauce spoon in hand, to snatch the remote and turn up the volume. The disturbance caused Sky to mumble as he rolled over on the chaise lounge, pulling a pillow over his face.
Four quirked a brow from his place on the couch. “The… The stage music?”
“Hell yeah!” Wild shuffled back into the kitchen. “Gourmet Race theme slaps!!”
“I call winner,” Twilight announced from where he stood at the kitchen counter chopping mushrooms. “Loser takes my place as Wild’s sous-slave.”
“Twi, you wish you were a sous— Oh hey, welcome home Sir!”
Time winced at the volume of their greetings as he entered the kitchen. “If one of the neighbors hasn’t made a noise complaint about you yet, I’ll call the police myself,” he grumbled, shedding his jacket and work bag and tossing them onto a chair. Legend took the hint, reaching for the remote and turning the music back down.
“Rough day at work?” Twilight spared Time a sympathetic look, to which the older man huffed.
“You could say that.”
“GAME!!”
“That’s cheating!” Wind ditched his controller on the floor and lunged at Warriors, who laughed as he caught his shorter counterpart and began wrestling on the couch.
“We can turn off items if you’re going to be a sore loser!”
“Boys, try not to kill each other.” Time couldn’t have sounded less concerned if he tried.
“Well you’ll be happy to know that Wild and I found jobs today,” Twilight offered, tossing the last of his chopped mushrooms into a bowl before hurrying to untie his apron.
“My condolences,” Time deadpanned as he poured himself a glass of water. “Where will you be working?”
“At some bar off of South Road!” Wild accosted Time as he closed the refrigerator door, holding a sauce spoon aloft and beckoning him to sample. Wild beamed as Time hummed in appreciation at the taste.
Twilight narrowed his eyes at Wild. “You forgot the name already, didn’t you?”
“No!” Wild avoided eye contact as he hurried back to the stove.
Time collected his things from the table, pausing in the doorway. “That’s kind of a rough neighborhood, isn’t it?”
“Not too bad.” Twilight tried to sound optimistic. “Aren’t you joining us for dinner, old man?”
Time considered the question as he took a long sip of water, glancing around the first floor. Wild had plucked a piece of spaghetti from the boiling pot and flung it against the wall, frowning when it didn’t stick. Warriors was stumbling into the kitchen with Wind in a firm headlock, looking slightly disheveled but no worse for wear. Legend and Four had moved onto the couch to engage in their own virtual melee. Sky remained undisturbed by all the activity. The front door creaked open, and he could hear Hyrule’s greeting from down the hall.
They were loud and rambunctious and kinetic and obnoxious.
And they were his.
Time sighed, setting his glass down at the table. “Against my better judgement, yes, I think I will be joining you.”
“Ow!!” Warriors relinquished his hold on Wind’s head and the pair stumbled apart abruptly. “Did you just bite me!?”
Chapter 2
Summary:
In which Time and Sky get to chat, the boys have a night on the town, and Dark gets to run some errands.
Notes:
A/N: Updated 12/3/21 for some minor dialogue edits in scenes 3, 4, and (most importantly) 5.
Chapter Text
“Why do you think you would hurt them?”
Saria purposely pushed her notepad farther out of reach before clasping her hands on her desk. Time’s eye followed the motion before returning to her face. He was beginning to look ill.
“Not— No, I wouldn’t… I don’t want to hurt them.” Time stood, and for a moment Saria worried he was going to walk out of their session. Instead, he began to restlessly pace her office. “I would never want to hurt them. I would rather see myself hurt than harm any one of them.”
Saria followed him with her eyes. Although he was becoming more agitated, more kinetic - and she knew his violent record very well - she didn’t feel threatened by him.
“But sometimes, things tend to happen around me. Sometimes, I don’t get a choice. Sometimes, it’s not me that—”
Time stopped his pacing, staring at the carpet in front of him. Saria watched as his eye traced unseen patterns along the floor. She waited several seconds that felt like several hours, watching the shifts in his posture as his mind raced.
“Link,” she spoke quietly.
Time blinked, looking back up to Saria like it was the first time he’d seen her. He gradually came back to himself, looking first relieved, then… embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, sinking back into the chair on the other side of the desk. He slouched forward, a quiet exhaustion apparent in his posture that he didn’t let come through in his voice. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, stronger this time. “Please, let’s… Let’s forget I said anything.”
“Link,” Saria gently spoke, “I want to reiterate that I am here for you.” As he met her gaze again, Saria found something there that set a pang of sympathy in her heart. “Whatever you need to talk about, no matter how big or how small… If it’s something that’s important to you, then it’s important to me, too.”
Time sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers interlaced, his hands covering his mouth. He cast his gaze back to the floor, drawing in a deep breath, letting it out through his nose.
He shallowly nodded.
***
“Is work going well?”
“It is.”
Jogging along on Time’s blind side, Twilight was keeping up much more easily than he had during their first run. They wound through the trails in Sanidin Park briskly. The morning was damp and foggy and on the horizon above them, Hyrule Castle appeared and disappeared intermittently through the mist.
Twilight eyed the stone behemoth. “Do you… work in the castle?”
Time exhaled sharply through his nose, and Twilight could feel his patience wearing thin. “Sometimes,” he conceded.
“Sometimes,” Twilight repeated.
Time hummed an affirmative sound.
Twilight bit the inside of his cheek. Stubborn old man.
The trail wound through a small grove of trees, and the air here was much cooler. The lights of the fairies in the underbrush pulsed slowly, and they floated up from the ground as the pair jogged past.
Time opted to change the subject. “You used to play some sport in high school, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, wrestling.”
“‘The Raging Gorons’ or something, right?” Time teased.
“‘The Rolling Gorons,’” Twilight corrected him, a hint of mock offense in his tone.
“Do you remember much of what you learned during wrestling?”
“I guess. I’m sure it’s kind of like riding a bike.” Twilight glanced up toward him curiously. “Why?”
Time’s pause was just a half-second too long. Was that awkwardness Twilight was picking up on? “I would like some help with training, if I’m honest. It’s been a long while since I’ve had someone to spar with, and I could use the practice.”
“Oh, yeah sure.” Twilight waved away one of the stray fairies that had ventured too close. “I don’t know how useful I’ll be, really. It’s been a while.”
“It would be very helpful,” Time assured him, “and if you are interested I can teach you some of the things I’ve learned, too.”
Twilight warily glanced up at him.
“Self-defense,” Time clarified.
“Right, I knew what you meant.” Twilight mentally kicked himself. “Yeah, that would be cool, actually.”
“Excellent.” Time began to pick up the pace as they exited the park, Twilight now working to keep up. “Just go easy on me. I’m old and brittle, you know.”
***
Although his office had a handsome view of Castle Town, Time preferred to keep the curtains drawn. A single desk lamp illuminated his workspace, but otherwise the office was dark. A small stack of papers was spread out on his desk that he carefully combed through one at a time. Lists of names accompanied large group photographs of men and women in uniform.
A knock at his door prompted him to sit up. He gathered the papers he was working on and slid the pile into a drawer, promptly locking it. “Come in.”
The door slowly creaked open, but Dark made no move to enter the office. “You gonna take another swing at me?”
“Just get in here.”
When not under the supervision of his employer, Time didn’t bother to veil his contempt for his charge. Lullaby was right to worry that Dark would be hard to keep under control, but the Fierce Deity was used to dealing with unsavory types. He rested his elbows on his desk, glaring as Dark closed the office door and slouched into the chair opposite him.
The Deity didn’t get the chance to open his mouth before Dark started talking. “The Big Guy hasn’t moved from his place out in the Gerudo wastes for months on end, but I can’t imagine for a second that means he’s been idle.” He crossed his ankle over the opposite knee. The red light on his ankle bracelet flashed every few seconds. “I have a person of interest here in Castle Town who I know has been in contact with the Dragmires. What worries me is the fact that that they work—”
“Enough.” Dark’s jaw snapped shut as the Deity cut him off. “This isn’t the reason why I called you here.”
Dark maintained his relaxed posture, but his eyes were hard. “You said you wanted to discuss the Dragmire case.”
“I wanted to discuss the fact that you are not to be involved in the Dragmire case unless I tell you so directly.”
Dark narrowed his eyes. “Kind of a waste to bring me on board if I can’t be involved in my area of expertise, don’t you think?”
“You have your assignments and I have mine.” The Fierce Deity maintained unwavering eye contact with both eyes. “I will call on you for help if your input is ever needed as I track Ganon personally.”
“Alright,” Dark shrugged, slouching a bit further into his chair. “Do you have an assignment for me then, boss?”
“I have a handful of tasks from Impa that I am too busy to carry out.” The Deity snatched one of the manilla folders from the stack on his desk, glancing at the mission briefing before tossing it toward Dark. “Here, a simple task of tracking and elimination, moderate-risk target. Let’s use it to test your skills, shall we?”
“Oh great, busy work.” Dark’s face twisted into a displeased snarl. “And what do you mean by ‘test my skills?’ Don’t you trust me?”
“Absolutely not. In fact, I will be accompanying you on this particular assignment once you have a lead on the target. I need to see that you are capable of completing such tasks both mercifully and discreetly.” When Dark’s snarl didn’t abate, he added, “I won’t have time to babysit you forever. You’ll eventually have more freedom to have your fun.”
“More freedom?” Dark tapped his ankle bracelet.
“You have to earn some trust first.”
“Fair enough.” Dark snatched the folder off of Time’s desk and opened it in his lap. As his eyes scanned the briefing, his annoyance gave way to surprise, then mild disbelief. “Wow,” he murmured.
“Is there a problem?”
Dark looked up again only to find that the Fierce Deity’s scowl had darkened. He was not in the mood to be questioned. “Man,” Dark half-laughed as he closed the folder, “what happened to you in Termina?”
The Deity didn’t flinch. “You are dismissed.”
“Whatever.” Dark took a moment to glance around the office again as he stood. “Goddess, no wonder you’re so uptight. Ever thought about opening a window in here? Getting a plant, maybe?”
“Out.”
***
“No, no, that won’t do. Next.”
Twilight huffed, turning back toward his closet and beginning to unbutton his shirt. It was feeling a bit crowded in his little bedroom. Wild lay across his bed upside-down, feet resting against the headboard, his attention on some handheld gaming system he’d borrowed from Four. Next to him, Legend was stretched out on his stomach, leafing through a book. Warriors sat in the chair at Twilight’s desk, swiveling back and forth as he picked the lint from his scarf.
Legend set down his book. “Wars, why are you torturing Twilight like this?”
“I am not torturing Twilight, I am helping him.” Warriors swiveled to face Legend. “It’s our first night out in Castle Town! I want to make sure that we all look good, not just me. If Twilight just so happens to stumble into the love of his life while we’re out, I want him to have a fighting chance.”
Wild quirked a brow, glancing away from his screen for a moment. “Is that why we’re going out tonight?”
“No,” Twilight answered as he snatched his next option from a hangar, “but… I wouldn’t mind meeting someone.”
“Once we’re finished here,” Warriors smiled benevolently at Legend, “I am perfectly willing to help you cobble together something respectable from your wardrobe, too.”
“Please don’t.”
“How about this one?” Twilight stepped back from the closet door, holding his arms out to demonstrate the shirt he’d chosen.
“Looks just like the last one,” Wild said without looking away from his screen.
Warriors frowned. “Twilight, do you own nothing but plaid shirts?”
Twilight pushed open the door to his closet and stepped aside. Legend didn’t bother stifling his laughter as Warriors sucked in a breath of horror. “It’s like the clearance rack at an outdoor store.”
Wild snickered, still not looking away from his screen as he shouted, “Hey, Sky!”
Sky’s muffled reply came from the other side of the wall.
“Twilight needs to borrow a shirt!”
Sky’s footsteps approached down the hallway. “Why does he need to borrow one of my shirts?”
“Because his shoulders will pop the seams on War’s shirts and Legend dresses like a modern vampire.” Wild laughed as he rolled away from Legend’s swat.
“Brave words from the guy with the homemade Bolson Construction crop top!” Legend growled.
“I’m sure Twilight owns something that will work just f—” Sky stopped as he actually took a good look at Twilight’s closet. “I’m… sure I have something that would fit you…”
“Or we could go on a little shopping spree,” Warriors tried hopefully. “We could take out the SUV the old man just bought.”
“Wait, what?” Wild had Legend pinned beneath him and swiftly dodged a fist aimed for his head. “We have a car now?”
“Haven’t you looked in the garage lately?” Twilight leafed through the rest of his wardrobe. “He got us a seven-passenger van, it’s a monster.”
“Ugh, don’t call it a van,” Wars grimaced, “we’re not a soccer team.”
“Can we drive it?” Wild sounded hopeful.
“He said only if you have a license. Here, what about this one?” Twilight pulled out another shirt, holding it up hopefully. It was still plaid, although the stripes didn’t clash as vividly as some of the other shirts. The boys stared.
Warriors sighed, waving his hand dismissively. “Y’know what, Twi, let’s move on. Show me what shoes you were planning on wearing.”
Twilight tossed the shirt onto his bed, reaching down to fish in the back of his closet.
“Seriously though, Legend,” Warriors continued, “if I manage to convince Twilight to invest in some new clothing, you should come with us. I’ve seen your closet, and I’m never sure if those pleated skirts are utilikilts or you’re honestly wearing women’s clothing.”
“Hey!” Wild barked, an edge of true offense to his tone. “Clothing isn’t gendered.”
“Here they are,” Twilight finally announced, producing a pair of well-worn cowboy boots from the very back of his closet. The leather was soft and perfectly broken-in, the heels scuffed and worn down.
Warriors shrank back from them as though they might bite. “Absolutely not!”
***
Weekends at the townhouse could be rather hectic. When the boys weren’t out causing goddess knows what mayhem across Castle Town, they were busy filling the house with laughter and noise and chaos - between video games and cooking experiments and the music room they had cobbled together on the first floor. Consequently, Time spent a fair amount of his weekend holed up in his study in the pursuit of peace and quiet.
Sky really hated to disturb that peace. He climbed the steps to the third floor as though he was entering a chapel. The door on the right must be Time’s bedroom, but there were two doors on the left side of the hallway. Sky wasn’t sure which one to pick. Maybe one led to the attic? Did this place even have an attic??
As Sky approached the first door on the left, the sound of voices led him inside.
“—have to be more discreet with your methods, Wind.”
“Alright, alright.”
“And the extortion is a bit out of line.”
“Aw, come on—”
“If you’d rather make your money that way, then so be it, but I’m not paying you twice to do the same job.”
Sky quietly knocked on the door, drawing the attention of the pair inside. Time sat at his desk and Wind stood in the middle of the study, frowning intensely.
“Um, I’m really sorry to interrupt.”
“Nonsense,” Time said with a smile. “Please, come in. Wind was just leaving.”
Wind scowled at Time before brushing past Sky on his way out the door. Sky winced as the door shut not-so-gently behind him. “I’m so sorry, sir. I could have sworn I left my rent check for you yesterday.”
“It’s no bother, I know where you live after all.” As Sky crossed the study, Time closed the folio in front of him. Sky didn’t miss the crest embossed on its cover. “I hope you’re enjoying Castle Town, Sky.”
“I am!” Sky nodded as he handed over his rent check. “It’s a lot more crowded than Termina, but it’s still nice to be back in a familiar city.”
“And nice to be closer to the princess, I imagine.”
Sky’s cheeks warmed to a modest shade of pink. “Yeah, Sunny was really happy to hear that I was moving back.”
“I’m sure.” Time’s smile was easygoing, and he motioned for Sky to have a seat. “You and I never get the chance to talk. Tell me, how did the two of you meet?”
Sky settled in awkwardly on the sofa. It was a bit larger than the one in the old house, but still the same rich shade of green. “We met at the Officer’s Ball when I was in the Guard. It was an open dance floor, Warriors dared me to ask her to dance, and I… well,” Sky rubbed the back of his neck shyly, “I’m just lucky, I guess.”
“Things are serious between the two of you.” Time chuckled as Sky turned an even brighter shade of red, putting up his hands. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I can tell she makes you happy.”
“Y-Yeah.” The fondness in Sky’s smile was obvious. “Sunny is really special.”
“She must be.” Sky didn’t miss Time’s solemn undertone. When Sky made no move to respond to the unspoken words, Time’s tone shifted with the change in topic. “You were in the Royal Guard with Warriors.”
The whites of Sky’s eyes flashed just a bit. “I was.”
“Which section?”
“Airborne Unit.”
Time nearly did a double-take. “You’re a pilot?”
“I am.” Sky sat up a little taller. “I was a member of the Loftwings.”
“Wow, Sky, that… That takes a lot of dedication. That’s something to really be proud of.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“That’s a lot to give up, too.”
Sky maintained his smile, although some of the mirth left his eyes. So that’s where this was going. “Leaving the Guard wasn’t an easy decision for me.”
“So why did you?”
Sky fidgeted with his hands as his gaze fell to the floor. “Isn’t it obvious?” he half-laughed.
A beat of silence passed, like Time was giving Sky the chance to say something more. When he didn’t, Time stood. “I’ve always found some of the rules of the Royal Guard to be a bit antiquated,” he spoke as he crossed his study toward the window. Sky relaxed somewhat without Time’s eye on him. “The rule of discharge from the Guard for fraternization or initiating a relationship with one of the royal family dates back centuries, to a time of arranged marriages.”
Sky’s palms were beginning to sweat.
“That was also well before the Guard was expanded and divided into different sections, including the Airborne Unit.” Time parted the curtains to look out toward the horizon where Hyrule Castle was silhouetted against the afternoon sky. He didn’t need to be looking directly at Sky to keep him pinned to the spot. “They’ve become a bit more lenient over time, though, and I believe that rule is now limited to those Guard members who are a part of the royal family’s close personal detail.”
When Time turned back to face him again, there was a sharpness in his eye, and Sky knew he’d been cornered.
“Members of the Loftwings don’t fit that description, do they.”
It wasn’t a question.
Sky was never more grateful to hear the sound of the doorbell. He was up and out of his seat so quick it nearly made him dizzy. The older man sighed. “I’d like to continue this conversation later,” Time said as he moved toward the door.
Time descended the two flights of stairs quickly. There were some unspoken rules in the house that remained in place even after leaving Termina. Time was always the one to answer the door when he was home. No one answered the door alone anymore, either. Wind lingered nearby in the living room doorway as Time pulled open the door.
“Oh good afternoon, good sir!”
Time quirked a brow at the shorter young man who stood out on the porch. His purple sweater looked like it crawled out of his laundry pile to swallow him whole, and the long ears on his hood were disarmingly silly. He had a strange speaking cadence, like he wasn’t from around here. “Can I interest you in some rare and unique wares?”
Time narrowed his eye. “No.”
“I have some of the finest estate pieces from the nobles of Hyrule that you won’t find anywhere else,” the little merchant carried on, completely undeterred. He fished in his pocket, pulling out a small dusty box. “Perhaps the lady of the house might find these—”
“Not interested.”
Time moved to push the door closed, but someone gripped the door, stopping him halfway. “Sorry, old man,” Legend sighed, “he’s with me.”
Time glowered down at Legend. “He’d better not be staying.”
“Ravio, this is Time, he is not a customer.” Legend squeezed past Time, grabbing the boy on the stoop by his sleeve and pulling him through the door. “Time, Ravio.”
Legend began dragging Ravio up the stairs rather hurriedly, but the noise of something metallic hitting the floor drew Time’s attention. He reached to collect the item that had fallen from Ravio’s sweater, pausing to run his thumb over the gemstone in the center. It was a very handsome and very heavy gold necklace laden with rubies. It smelled of earth, and there were bits of dirt caked into some of the settings.
Time cleared his throat as he held the necklace out. “You dropped this.”
Legend and Ravio turned back at the top of the stairs, and Ravio smiled gratefully. “Oh, thank you, sir!” He breezed back down the stairs to pluck the necklace from Time’s hand, doing a strange little half-bow as he started back up the steps backward. “My apologies!”
Time set his jaw as the pair disappeared at the top of the steps. Wind snorted once they were out of earshot. “Weirdo.”
“Do you know him?”
“Not really.” Wind glanced up at Time. “Only that he works with Legend.”
Time turned back to Wind with a stiff smile. “Perhaps you could become more familiar with him.”
Wind quirked a brow, but his smile let Time know that he was up to the challenge. “Sure, whatever,” he replied, heading off toward the kitchen.
***
To celebrate their last weekend of freedom before starting at Telma’s Bar, the boys decided to take Twilight and Wild out for a night on the town. They hadn’t all gone out together since the Lunar Cycle festival, and Wild’s enthusiasm for this particular DJ was infectious.
Twilight could feel the bass through his shoes as he and his friends descended into the dark club. After flashing their ID’s and getting a paper band strapped around their wrists, a few of them headed toward the bar while the others immediately hit the dance floor. It was easily ten degrees warmer inside the club; Twilight immediately regretted his decision to ignore Warriors’s advice and wear flannel.
He stayed toward the back of the crowd, watching uneasily as his friends mingled among the partiers. His eyes followed the glare of lasers cutting through the haze and smoke overhead, so thick he couldn’t tell how high the ceiling was. The crowd was dark, just blurs of purple and navy that swayed and bounced along with the beat. As he started losing sight of his friends among them, Twilight felt his pulse quicken.
An arm wound around his neck and his entire body tensed as though he’d been electrocuted. Twilight ducked away, lifting his fists—
“Woah, woah, hey!” Sky took a defensive half-step back as two shot glasses sloshed in his hands. For a moment, a look of genuine concern crossed his face.
Twilight huffed, pushing his hair back out of his face as his eyes furtively scanned the crowd again.
“Need some help loosening up?” Sky offered him one of the shots.
Twilight considered it, but Legend snatched a glass out of Sky’s hand as he breezed past. He threw the clear liquor back and grimaced only slightly at the taste. “You gotta relax, cowboy,” he teased before ungratefully dumping his empty shot glass into Twilight’s free hand. Twilight watched as he moved into the crowd, falling into place where the others moved along to the beat. Hands in the air, screaming at the top of their lungs, they all seemed eager to forget about real life for a little while — even Hyrule, who still wore his scrubs from work.
Sky offered the second shot glass. “Only if you want, or you and I could go somewhere quieter.”
Twilight kept his eyes on the crowd as he accepted the glass and lifted it. “To Castle Town,” he drawled before downing the liquor in one gulp. It seared the top of Twilight’s tongue and burned deep in his chest. “Ugh, Sky, what was that!?”
“What, not as smooth as moonshine?” Warriors laughed as he came up on Twilight’s other side, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s called the Noble Pursuit. May it inspire some noble pursuits of our own tonight!”
Perhaps not so pleasant on the way down, the alcohol had its intended effect. Twilight eventually felt much more comfortable moving in among his friends, bouncing and singing along with them. This time, the sensation of not being heard over the screaming crowd was liberating. He soon shed his flannel in some corner of the club and, after a few hours of partying, his shirt followed suit. He moved closer toward the stage with Wild while the others hung near the bar. The beat mellowed out a bit and they bobbed along in the sea of people, hands in the air as they howled along with the melody.
The world moved with dizzying speed around him, but Twilight was having too much fun to care. He was out with his friends, and they were all safe and accounted for, and he missed having this much fun with everyone, nothing in the world could ruin this night for him, and nothing could stop him from—
Twilight stopped dead in his tracks.
Several feet away, a woman had locked eyes with him across the crowd. Fiery red and orange hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head. Her skin was pale, the blacklight making her almost appear to glow blue. Her commanding gaze was fixed on him as she smoothly moved through the crowd with the grace of a flowing stream. Twilight suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed and goddess why did he have to take off his shirt!?
Across the club, the boys had snagged a table to stow their drinks and shed articles of clothing. Hyrule subtly leaned into Legend’s side, already looking quite a bit tired, as Legend and Warriors amused themselves people-watching.
Legend grinned as he nudged Hyrule. “Looks like Twilight’s mating dance did the trick,” he chuckled, motioning to where Twilight and his new friend were engaged on the dance floor.
Warriors lit up, taking hold of someone’s beer bottle and positioning it like a microphone in front of himself. “Ah, a rare sight indeed!” His proper over-enunciation was reminiscent of a nature documentary. “I believe the scientific name is ‘Contrius bumpkinus,’ and it’s unusual to see such a specimen so far out of its comfort zone.”
“Stop it,” Hyrule laughed in spite of himself.
“No, no,” Legend tapped the table with his palm, “he’s right. This one appears lost, but still confident enough to woo a potential mate spotted in the crowd.”
“The liquor has something to do with that,” Four deadpanned as he returned to the table with Sky, following their eyes out toward the dance floor.
“He looks around for his compatriots,” Warriors continued narrating as Twilight turned to look for his friends, “but finds that they’ve left him to fend for himself. Does he fight or flee?”
She was tall — several inches taller than Twilight — and she appraised him with an arched brow. Twilight would normally be intimidated by such a beautiful woman, but the alcohol bolstered his confidence.
“See how he turns to display his physique toward this potential mate!”
“Uh, yeah, he is totally flexing for her,” Four added. Legend made an elaborate gagging gesture.
“But the all-important question: does she take the bait?”
The boys waited with held breath as the tall woman moved in, reaching out to rest a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and matching his movements with her own. Twilight moved against her in a way that would make him blush when he recalled it later. The din of the crowd drowned out the catcalls from his friends across the club.
“What’s your name?” She’d leaned down to murmur in his ear, her voice rich like velvet.
“Twilight.” He worked hard to choke down his accent.
“Twilight,” his name on her lips tugged on something funny in his chest, “let’s get a drink.”
Chapter 3
Summary:
In which the boys learn about communication, Time practices walking down an aisle, and Warriors realizes that maybe he needs glasses.
Notes:
A/N: Updated 12/3/21 to add scene 2 (because this story needed some Malon), otherwise minor line edits here and there.
Chapter Text
“The Fierce Deity could hurt them.”
Time frowned. His eye was focused somewhere in the middle distance, unseeing. Saria patiently sipped her tea.
“The Deity is morally reprehensible.” His tone was hard. “He committed acts of violence without consideration for ethics. He took too much pleasure in his work.” The words were fast, precise, like this was something he’d rehearsed. “He became power-hungry, and he cast aside those around him in the pursuit of that power.”
Saria set down her mug gently. The motion drew Time’s attention. “That doesn’t really fit with what you told me earlier, you know.”
Time sat up a bit, his eye quietly questioning.
“The Deity pushed people away when things were becoming too dangerous to keep them safe.” Saria made a broad gesture with her hands. “This unfortunately comes with the type of work you do. You know this. The Deity knew it. And even though you regret how things happened between you and Malon, and perhaps it could have been handled differently, it did keep her from harm, didn’t it.”
Time’s mouth thinned into a tight line. He slouched forward again and clasped his hands in front of his mouth, hiding the lower half of his face.
“And according to your medical record, the Deity also took a bullet for someone you love.”
Time remained as still as stone.
Saria waited the span of several quiet seconds before she continued, “The Deity did what needed to be done in order to protect your loved ones from harm, although not without great personal cost to you. I understand why you harbor this resentment, but you should recognize that there is good in the Fierce Deity - that there is good in you.”
Time was very purposely avoiding Saria’s eye now. The small wrinkle in his brow spelled his discomfort.
“The boys see it.” Saria’s voice was gently encouraging. “Malon sees it.”
After several seconds, Time sat back in the leather chair and dropped his arms again. He didn’t need to hide his face when he slipped on the mask of stiff professionalism.
“Same time next week?”
And there was the wall.
***
Time was without his running partner the next morning. The freeloaders hadn’t stumbled in until well after midnight, and everyone was sleeping soundly as he snuck out before sunrise. When he returned from his round of Sanidin Park, though, Time was greeted at the door by the warm scent of cinnamon and sugar. He followed the aroma and the gentle clinking of cookware to the kitchen.
“Morning, sir!” Wild greeted him brightly. He was still in his pajamas, his blue apron tied snug around his waist.
Time winced at the volume, gesturing for Wild to keep it down. “Good morning,” he murmured, “late night last night?”
“Not too late.” Wild lifted his whisk from the bowl he was busy stirring, judging the thin drizzle of icing that hung from its end. “The club was ridiculous, you should have come!”
“Maybe next time,” Time replied flatly, pouring himself a glass of water. “Everyone make it home in one piece?”
“Yeah, Wars stayed sober to babysit us like usual.” Wild held out the bowl toward Time. “Try some?”
“What’s this for?” Time helped himself to a swipe of icing, nodding his approval at the sweet taste.
“Homemade cinnamon buns!” Wild turned toward the oven, leaning down to check on the rising pastries. “Will you want one or two do you think?”
“Just one for me, darlin’.”
But it was a very feminine voice that had answered Wild. He turned, positively lighting up to find Malon walking into the kitchen, pulling her long hair back into a ponytail.
“Miss Malon!” Wild chirped, “I didn’t know you were coming over!”
“Well you were all out partying last night.” She sidled up next to Time, and he accepted her kiss with a minimal amount of blushing. “I didn’t want the ‘Old Man’ to be here all by his lonesome.”
“Oh ha-ha,” Time drawled, smiling as Malon and Wild warmly hugged.
“Man, if I’d known you were here, I would have made a bigger breakfast!”
“Darlin’, please,” she chuckled, squeezing Wild’s cheeks, “don’t go making a fuss on my account. Besides, I have to head back pretty early. Can I get a tea with my cinnamon bun to go?”
“On it, ma’am!” Wild turned helplessly toward the cabinet where they kept the coffee supplies — Wild wasn’t a coffee drinker, never seemed to need it — and Time discreetly plucked her favorite tea from the top shelf and set it in Wild’s hands.
Wild immediately got to work setting up the electric kettle. He tried to just blend into the background as Time and Malon sat at the long table, chatting quietly. It looked a bit funny to see them sitting so close together at a table that could comfortably seat ten or more. But Wild kept himself busy and gave them privacy, only approaching them again once he’d packaged up an extra cinnamon bun or two and a warm to-go mug of tea. Malon stood as he delivered them to the table.
“Safe travels back, Miss Malon!”
“You take care, and keep an eye on him for me, will you?” Wild smiled shyly as she kissed his cheek in thanks, and he couldn’t help but indulge in one more embrace. Malon gave the warmest, strongest hugs.
Wild started on the dishes as Time walked Malon out into the back yard toward the driveway. Wild was doing his best not to eavesdrop — he really was — but the window over the sink was open just enough, and it was so quiet in the house at this hour that as soon as Wild turned off the sink Time’s voice came to him clearly.
“—would be honored if you would join me, but only if you are interested. I understand if you wouldn’t want to come, these events can be so stuffy.”
“I’m flattered that you would invite me, Link.” Malon set the box Wild had given her on the passenger seat before turning back to Time. “I’m just not sure I’m ready—”
As she turned away from the house, Wild lost what she was saying. Malon gestured between the two of them as she spoke and there was an apology in her eyes. Although Time smiled and nodded in understanding, he looked slightly pained as Malon leaned up to kiss his cheek.
Time held the car door for her and stood at the edge of the driveway to see her off. Even after she’d left, he stood there in the morning chill, facing away from the house for a long while. Wild ducked away from the window as Time slowly turned and made his way back into the house.
Time said nothing as he bypassed the kitchen, heading directly back upstairs.
***
The gentle knock at his bedroom door made Twilight wince, and wincing hurt. He groaned as he rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head.
“Hey buddy,” Sky tried cheerfully as the door creaked open.
“Just leave me to die,” came Twilight’s muffled reply from the pile of blankets.
“Okay, but not before you drink something.”
Sky crossed the room, pulling down the comforter. Twilight grumbled as he slowly sat up, rubbing at his face. “Isn’t that what got me in this mess in the first place?”
“Some water, I mean.” Sky forced a cool glass into his hands. “So how much do you remember from last night?”
Twilight didn’t realize how nasty his mouth tasted until he started drinking, and he emptied the glass in seconds. “I remember arriving at the club, and Wars kept putting shots in my hand, and dancing…” He looked down to realize that he’d fallen asleep in his jeans and Wild’s shirt, which wasn’t nearly long enough to cover his stomach. Tugging on the hem of the shirt, he lifted his eyes to find Sky grinning. “Why?”
“How much do you want to know?”
Before he could ask, Twilight’s phone chirped on the bedside table.
New Contact - 11:34am
Thanks for giving me your number last night.
I never told you my name. It’s Midna.
Sky met Twilight’s horrified gaze with an encouraging smile. “Way to go, cowboy.”
Twilight’s hands were suddenly cold and clammy. He glanced dumbly back and forth between his phone and Sky’s face several times, wondering what Sky was smiling about. He felt something rising in his chest, a feeling of mortification, of elation, maybe heartburn, maybe butterflies, maybe—
Sky was quick to shove the trash can in front of Twilight as he leaned over the edge of his bed, miserably emptying his stomach into it.
***
“Okay.” Warriors paced the length of the kitchen table, rubbing his chin. “We have a situation.”
Twilight sat at the table, his forehead pressed to the cool tabletop as he swallowed hard against his nausea. Sky rubbed a hand between Twilight’s shoulder blades, frowning down at him nervously. Four sat uneasily following Warriors with his eyes. Legend was a few seats down, feet resting on the tabletop, looking bored.
In the center of the table sat the offending object: Twilight’s phone.
“Four.” Warriors snapped his fingers. “Read it again.”
Four snatched up Twilight’s phone and cleared his throat. “‘Thanks for giving me your number last night. I never told you my name. It’s Midna.’”
Midna. Twilight swallowed wetly.
Legend rolled his eyes. “There’s no indication there that she wants to hang out.”
“The message itself is indication enough.” Warriors turned on his heel, circling the kitchen counter as he paced. “She wouldn’t reach out at all if she didn’t want to see him again.”
“So do I call her?” Twilight’s voice was muffled against the tabletop.
“No!” Warriors pinched the bridge of his nose in his frustration. “You reply in kind via text. And you don’t respond right away! You don’t want to look desperate.”
Wild snuck around Warriors to take a seat at the table, gently sliding a plate of food toward Twilight and tapping the top of his head. Twilight lifted his head to find a heavy breakfast feast of bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel. “It’ll soak up the alcohol,” Wild tried.
Twilight’s stomach lurched and he groaned, setting his head back down.
“You’re not in any shape to respond right now, anyway,” Warriors added.
“What’s the big deal?” Wild slid Twilight’s breakfast toward himself; no sense letting it go to waste. “If you want to text to her, just text her. If you don’t want to right now, then don’t. We have tickets to see Kass this week and I might score us VIP entry, see if she wants to come.”
“Wild,” Warriors sighed, “this is about the art of seduction. You need to dole out just enough attention to keep her interested, but not too much attention that she feels overwhelmed, and not too quickly so as to seem desperate for affection, but not too late or else she’ll move on.” Warriors glanced at Wild down the length of his nose. “It requires a very subtle social finesse that clearly not all of us possess.”
Legend stood, crossing the kitchen toward the coffee pot. “And just how many partners have you successfully wooed this way, matchmaker?”
“That’s need-to-know information,” Warriors snarked, “and if you’re ever lucky enough to get to that level maybe I’ll tell you.”
“Actually,” Four interjected, “that’s a good point. We need to ask someone who knows what they’re doing.” He sat back to glance at Sky over Twilight’s slumped shoulders. “What should he do?”
“Um…” Sky began to blush as all eyes turned to him, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, I… I don’t know. Just because I’m dating Sun doesn’t mean I know how I did it. I guess I would text back? Say it was nice to meet her or something.”
“Okay, but like, when?”
As Time descended the stairs to the first floor, he could hear the boys bickering in the kitchen. That sure sounded like something he didn’t want to get involved in. He snuck past the kitchen quietly, heading directly out the back door through the hallway.
“Old man.”
He was startled to find Wind sitting out on the porch, his nose in his phone. “Too loud in there for you, too?”
Wind answered him with a sour face. “I have some of the information you requested yesterday.”
“Already?” Time looked down at him with genuine surprise. Wind only smirked in response. “I wish I could hire you to replace my current partner.”
“Sorry, nine-to-five isn’t really my style.”
“Of course,” Time deadpanned. “Well, we’ll have to talk later, I’m running late for work.”
Wind tilted his head. “On a Sunday?”
“Goodbye, Wind.”
***
The throne room was one of the most claustrophobic open rooms Time had ever been in. The ceilings were vaulted, the walls lined with high pointed arches and tall windows designed to welcome every drop of sunlight into the room. The receiving area was completely open, as they would bring in specific furnishings to accommodate their variety of guests, and right now it was completely devoid of furniture. Still, he felt like the glittering stained glass windows depicting feats of royalty and heroes past were breathing down his neck.
“Ready?”
Time stood tall, squared his shoulders, and began a brisk march down the center aisle.
“Slower! It’s not a race.”
Time’s face remained unchanged as he vindictively slowed his pace to an absolute crawl.
“Oh, goddess.” At the end of the long aisle, Lullaby folded her arms across her chest, smiling as she theatrically rolled her eyes. “You’re such a child.”
“I’m just following orders,” he teased, although he did up his pace to a more reasonable parade march.
As he approached the pedestal of the queen’s throne, Time stopped at the front of the aisle and reverently took a knee, pressing his fist over his heart and lowering his head. Lullaby closed the distance between them with two short strides before lifting her palm toward him. “Hero of Hyrule, you have shown unflinching bravery and skill in the face of adversity and have proven yourself worthy of the blessings of the goddess—”
“Are there going to be a lot of people there?” Time lifted his head, his interruption catching Lullaby off guard. “Do you think?”
Lullaby huffed, lowering her hand. “Would you like me to make you feel better or tell you the truth?”
Time’s ears lowered a bit. “Well, I was just thinking, if there are going to be a lot of people there, maybe you don’t need to say the whole speech—”
“Oh, okay sure, Link. Let’s just spit in the face of every single tradition surrounding this ceremony! As if we haven’t been doing that already. Why don’t I just cut the speech and take the sword,” she pantomimed the gesture, “and instead of touching your shoulders I’ll just lob your head clean off. Don’t want this to take too long, after all.”
“See? Now you’re getting it.” Time grinned, ducking beneath Lullaby’s exaggerated golf swing.
“You will take your knighting and you will like it!” she playfully threatened him. “You keep this up and I’m going to make you give a speech afterward. Now hold still and let me recite the induction properly.”
Time settled back into his place, clearing his throat before he respectfully bowed his head again. He had forgotten how nice it was to spend time in Lullaby’s company — when she wasn’t acting as his employer, at least. With her, he didn’t need to be the stoic professional, or the Fierce Deity, or even the responsible adult. It was nice to just be Link for a little while.
“...Over the seas of time and distance, when we have need of the courage of Farore, our hope rests in you. In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I bless you, Link of Kokiri Forest, the Hero: Time.” She pantomimed taking a sword from someone next to her, then laying it on each of Time’s shoulders in turn. “We pray for your protection, and ask that you continue to lend us your strength in our hour of need. May we grow stronger, together, as one.
“And then stand,” she continued. Time followed her direction, slowly rising to his feet as Lullaby took a step back, holding out her upturned palms. “Then you take the sword, hold it in front of you…”
Time mimed the action, watching Lullaby for approval.
“...and you lift it toward the sky with a triumphant yell.”
“With a what now?”
Lullaby pursed her lips. “Well, I guess that is a bit less awkward when you’re knighting a large group.”
Time dropped his arms heavily. “Please, no.”
“It’s part of the tradition!”
“Really??”
“You’re going to be in a position of authority! Don’t you want to be taken seriously?”
“Zelda, I can’t—”
“It has to be strong and confident, like this!” Lullaby took on the righteous scowl of a hero, raising her fist to the sky with a guttural, “Hyeh!”
Time buried his face in his hands. “I am not doing that!”
“Oh I bet it’s not even the crowd you’re worried about, is it?” Time glared at Lullaby through his fingers as she playfully elbowed him in the ribs. “You just don’t want to look silly in front of your date, right?”
The change in Time’s eye gave Lullaby true pause, and he sighed as he dropped his hands. He opened his mouth, starting to speak, and abruptly closed it again.
She doesn’t want to be seen in public with me.
There is no coming back from what I’ve done.
“I’ll be going alone,” was what he settled on.
Lullaby’s hum of sympathy caused embarrassment to burn on Time’s face. “Well, maybe that’s for the best. She’d spend most of the evening away from you, anyway; there will be many who will want your attention that night.” Lullaby gently rubbed his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
For the barest moment, Time allowed his true misery to show through in his posture, but it was only a moment. With a steady inhale he stood tall again, squaring his shoulders. “Alright, one last time? I promise I won’t interrupt—”
Gloved hands clasped his cheeks, and Time met Lullaby’s gaze. Her eyes were full of fondness and sadness and something else, something deeper that made Time feel small — and it wasn’t just the fact that he had to look up as she stood on the riser above him.
“Great Deku would be so proud of you, Link.”
Internally, Time braced. Sometimes, his reaction to the name was violent in its suddenness, a tall wave of regret and grief and longing that might sweep him away. Others, especially now that he was older, his subconscious reaction was so minor that he would later be consumed by guilt over it. Was he forgetting? Was he being disrespectful of the memory of his mentor, his guide? He was never sure which reaction would surface, and even less aware of what triggered the strong feelings.
But this time, as Lullaby smiled sadly down at him, something new warmed in his chest. And maybe it was because of the fact that Time finally stood here, at the apex of the throne room, in the place where Great Deku would have wanted to see him; not covered in blood in some back alley in Termina; not wearing the hideous mask of a hired hitman; not hiding from the world in a dark, dusty house far from his home.
Time lifted his hands, gently placing them over Lullaby’s in a gesture of gentle familiarity. He didn’t speak, but his small smile conveyed his gratitude. Lullaby leaned down to kiss his forehead for just a second before letting him go.
“Alright,” she finally spoke, “let’s start over again from the beginning.”
***
“So you’ve never done any bartending.”
“No ma—”
Twilight winced beneath Telma’s glare, biting his tongue before he could finish. “...No. I most recently worked at a grocer. Before that, it was mainly on the family farm.”
Telma turned back to the crate she was loading with bottle after bottle of beer. “It’s not easy work, but it ain’t hard, either. The biggest mistake I see people make is being idle.” As she slid one full crate out of the way, Twilight jumped in to pull it away for her, offering the next empty crate right away. “Even when there aren’t any customers, you can’t just stop working. There are always shelves to be stocked, glasses to be cleaned, fruit to be sliced…”
Telma was crouched in the cold storage case, loading up bottles for them to take back upstairs. Twilight’s eyes wandered around the storage area as she went on. The naked bulb overhead barely illuminated the expansive dirt floor basement. One wall was lined with kegs and hoses that snaked up into the ceiling. Dusty shelves lined the adjacent wall and were stocked with odds and ends for repairing equipment as well as an old rusty safe. Louise emerged from the darkness in the farthest corner of the basement, trilling a warm greeting as her tail crooked in the air.
“... and don’t ever turn your back on the cash drawer when it’s open. Not in this neighborhood, anyway.” Telma stood, shutting the storage door firmly and pushing the heavy lock closed. “Now, would you—”
Before she could finish, she turned to find Twilight with both crates hefted into his arms like they weighed nothing. He smiled up at her. “Upstairs?”
Telma quirked a brow. “Yes.”
They ascended the basement steps to find Wild seated at the bar, engrossed in the menu. He’d found a pen stashed away in one of the drawers and was busy making notes. He raised one hand to give Louise something to rub against while he worked.
Twilight grunted as he set the crates down, starting to load their contents into the refrigerators behind the bar before being told to do so.
“Miss Telma,” Wild perked up, sliding the menu over toward her, “do you mind if I make some minor adjustments to the menu?”
Telma eyed Wild skeptically. “Not up to your standards?”
“Well,” Wild carefully avoided her shrewd gaze, “I just wanted to... offer something other than fried food.”
“This isn’t no uptown steakhouse, young man. We can’t afford a lot of fancy ingredients.” She snatched the menu from his hand.
“I promise I’m not suggesting anything fancy.”
Telma glanced up at him. “Steak tartar?”
“Um, it’s tar- tare.” He began to truly look desperate when she tossed the menu aside. “Please, I’m begging you! I can’t spend every night just frying up frozen mozzarella sticks, I’ll die!!”
“If that’s what people order, then that’s what you’ll make,” she huffed, moving away from him down the length of the bar. “The people who come here like things simple: fried food and cheap beer. Although, if someone comes in and orders a mixed drink, you will need to know what you’re doing.” She folded her arms as she glanced down at Twilight. “What will you grab if someone orders an Old Fashioned?”
Twilight fished his phone out of his pocket. “Fi, how do you make an Old Fashioned?” His phone chimed, and he smiled as he turned his phone to face Telma.
Telma couldn’t help but smile even as she rolled her eyes. “You know you can’t just search for everything on the internet, right?”
“Yeah,” Wild teased, “like advice about girls.” Wild laughed as he ducked under the bar to avoid the dishrag Twilight used to swat at him.
“Oh?” Telma leaned back against the bar. “Is someone having some girl trouble?”
Twilight muttered something in the negative, although his burning ears told a different story.
Wild popped back up over the bartop. “Twilight got some girl’s number this weekend and he’s nervous as heck!”
“I am not!” Twilight hissed, reaching across the bar to smack Wild, who raised his arms defensively.
“Ohh,” Telma hummed knowingly, “well I hope you’re planning to take her out somewhere nice.”
“We’re just talking,” Twilight backed off of Wild, snapping the dishrag in his direction threateningly. “She seems nice but I don’t know that I’m interested in her like that, ma’a—”
Twilight’s jaw snapped shut as he felt Telma looming over him. His ears drooped under her scowl. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, but the look in his eyes spelled his apology.
Telma let him sweat it for a few seconds before smiling warmly. “Well, Pumpkin, if you need any relationship advice, don’t you hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks warm. “I… I might.”
“And you,” Telma turned on Wild, “come on, Skinny. Let’s go through the kitchen together so I know that you know what you’re doing.”
“And maybe talk about the menu a bit?” Wild added hopefully.
“Don’t push it.”
***
Impa was out of town on business for a few days, and Paya was looking forward to having the evening to herself. Tonight was going to be a night of comfy pants and take-out for dinner and a movie marathon of her choosing. What could be better! She was getting all of her favorite blankets and pillows arranged on the couch when the doorbell rang.
Paya winced at the sound. She always made a note on her orders to leave the bag by the door, text that it’s there, no need to knock! Thank you!!! But sometimes a new delivery person ignored the note.
Steeling herself, Paya shuffled down the hall in her slippers. She took just a moment to summon her courage before pulling open the door.
“Good evening, Paya.”
There wasn’t enough courage in the world.
Paya was rooted to the spot, gripping the doorknob in one hand. It took every ounce of politeness in her to not slam the door shut in Time’s face. Despite his looming height, his smile was kind. He held a brown bag in one hand that was slightly damp in the corner.
“I found this on our doorstep, I think the delivery driver got confused.”
Paya glanced tensely from the bag up to Time’s face. There was something less unnerving about his face this time, but somehow that was… more unnerving. Paya forced a wobbly smile as she reached out to accept the bag Time offered her.
“I’m going to be out on business this evening, but if you should need anything, a few of the boys will be home.” Time stepped back enough to give Paya space, and the tension in her shoulders relaxed somewhat as he did. “Please, if you don’t mind… keep an eye on them for me?”
There was a flash of something soft in Time’s eye as he said it. Paya straightened up, nodding once.
She followed him with her eyes as Time descended the porch steps. What was it about him that was different? Sure, she’d never seen him in jeans before, and the black jacket was new - but my, was it tailored perfectly. As he mounted the glittering motorcycle he’d parked on the street, he turned to find her still standing in her doorway, still staring.
He smiled and offered her a little wave before Epona roared to life. As he sped away down the road, it finally clicked in her mind.
What happened to his scars?
***
Time was grateful that most of the boys were out of the house as he was getting ready for his evening assignment alongside Dark. In Termina, it worked to his benefit to be recognized as the Fierce Deity; it had been a while since Time needed to conceal his identity. He didn’t want to have to explain the change in his appearance.
He pulled into an alleyway behind their meeting location and was somewhat surprised to find that Dark was already there and waiting for him. He dismounted Epona, pulling off his helmet and shaking out his hair.
Dark looked annoyed as he approached. “Ohhh no, nuh-uh, you are not going in there looking like this.”
“What?”
Dark gestured to Time in annoyance, as though his problem was obvious. “We’re supposed to be undercover here, and the only thing you’re missing right now is a fucking name tag. First of all, the nineties called and they want their middle part back.” Dark spit into his hands, rubbing them together briskly before reaching up to slick Time’s hair back.
Time ducked out of Dark’s reach, putting several steps between them. “I will do it,” he hissed, his glare fiery. He scowled as he reached up to run his fingers through his hair, pushing it all back and out of his face.
“Second of all - and I know this one is going to be hard for you - lighten up. People come to places like this to have fun, and you’re ready to roll up looking like you’re headed to a funeral.” Dark folded his arms, frowning. “The biggest way to blow your cover here is to look as miserable as you always do.”
“I do not always look—”
“I will say, though, you did a nice cover-up job.” Dark tapped his own cheek. “Now what are you going to do about that eye?”
“What’s there to do about it?”
“I figured you might need these.” From an inner pocket in his jacket, Dark pulled out a small plastic case. Time opened the box curiously, finding a pair of green colored contacts within. “Don’t get grossed out, they’re still sealed. I got them for myself and haven’t needed them yet.”
Time glanced at Dark in silence for a tense moment before tearing open the plastic case. “Careful planning, especially on such short notice. Well done.” He moved back toward Epona and tilted the mirror toward his face, leaning down to place the contacts. “I didn’t expect you’d have a lead on your target this soon, either.”
“Yes, well the sooner I get your busy work taken care of, the sooner we can move on to more important things, right?” Dark glanced around the alleyway quickly before descending a metal staircase set below street level. He picked his way between piles of garbage bags to knock a funny pattern into the door. “Now hurry up, we don’t have a ton of time here.”
As the door creaked open, Dark slipped in swiftly, Time following directly behind. He nearly ran into a short girl dressed in all black, a look of mild annoyance on her face. And Dark had accused him of looking miserable. But Dark smiled handsomely as he leaned down, kissing both of her cheeks like they were the closest friends.
“You look radiant as always, darling.”
Her eyes never left Time’s face, unimpressed as she was by his towering presence. “Who’s your twin?”
“Someone I’m helping to train.” Dark clapped a hand roughly on Time’s shoulder, grinning wider as he felt it tighten under his grip. “So where’s our date, love?”
“Second floor, 3-B.”
As the pair moved deeper into the building, Time began to feel deeply uneasy. The walls, the ceiling, the air reverberated with heavy muffled bass. The sensation made his throat feel a bit tight. He glanced back at the girl only once they were out of earshot, finding that she still stared after them. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh I don’t know,” Dark shrugged, “I’m terrible with names.”
Time followed closely behind Dark as they wound their way through tight hallways and past ‘Employees Only’ rooms. The thudding of electronica became louder and louder until they slipped out from behind a red curtain onto the main floor of the club.
A tide of bodies swept the dance floor, people moving as though they were in a trance. They were packed tightly together, all grinding against one another to the beat of the music. It would be hard for people to get away if this turned into a real scene. Above the pulsing crowd, dancers in cages hung over the crowd wearing glowing accessories to accentuate their movements.
Dark leaned in much closer than Time wanted him to, but still it was hard to hear him over the music. “Let me go sweet-talk the bouncers and get us an invitation to the VIP rooms. You hang back.”
Time glared at him.
Dark rolled his eyes. “Too many of us will draw attention. I won’t go up without you.”
“And just what am I supposed to do?”
Dark shrugged as he began backing away through the crowd. “Enjoy yourself for once?” He winked suggestively before disappearing among the revelers.
Time glanced around warily. He felt very conspicuous standing still on the edge of the crowd, and the deep bass and flashing lights were making his skin crawl. He tried to find a place to be invisible, backing toward the nearest wall. As he did, Time bumped into something very solid. He turned to find that he had discovered the hiding place of a very large Zora and a small Hylian who were aggressively necking in the shadows. The threatening shark’s eyes caused Time to tense. Maybe it would be safer out in the open after all.
Time held his breath before slipping into the crowd as though he was diving into the ocean. He moved among the party-goers, trying not to remain engaged with any one person for too long, keeping toward the edge of the dance floor so he could bail as soon as he needed to. He kept his arms carefully down at his sides lest wandering hands find his holster. His eyes scanned the crowd, casually people-watching, looking for anyone he might—
In the middle of the living tide, a tall blonde caught his attention. They made brief eye contact over the heads of the others before he spared Time a wink.
Time’s stomach dropped. Of course this was how his night was going to go.
Warriors felt a twinge of self-satisfaction as the target of his long-distance flirting took the bait. Gottem. He waited patiently, continuing to dance with the strangers surrounding him until he got what he really wanted. He grinned as he felt the large hand on his shoulder. “Hey there, big guy, I was wondering when you’d come by to say hel—”
As he turned and raised his eyes to Time’s face, Warriors’s smile faltered. Time stifled his amusement as he watched the gears turning behind War’s eyes before he jumped, putting some space between them.
“What in Hylia’s name—”
“Don’t be obvious.” Time grinned down at him uncharacteristically, continuing to move with the beat of the song. “I’m working right now.”
Warriors regarded him carefully but followed his lead, moving in closer and flashing that winning smile. “ Working -working?” He pressed his palm against the front of Time’s chest, sliding the pads of his fingers along sturdy Kevlar and toward his right side. When he felt frigid metal beneath the shadow of Time’s jacket, his eyes widened nervously.
Time lifted his brows. “ Working -working. Who else is here?”
“Uh, Twi, Wild, Legend, Sky—”
“Get them out of here.”
“What?”
Time leaned in close, but it was the Fierce Deity’s voice that rumbled in Warriors’s ear:
“Get them out of here. That’s an order.”
Warriors drew back from him, some of the color draining from his face despite his smile. “How much time do we have?”
“Minutes.”
Warriors nodded, moving away from him slowly through the crowd. Time watched him heading toward the back of the dance floor until he vanished completely.
Something in his chest felt sour. It shouldn’t be like this. The boys weren’t supposed to be affected by his work anymore, and yet here he was, still dragging them into things without meaning to, still putting them in danger, still—
“Hey.” Dark sidled up behind Time too quickly. Time turned with a glare, but Dark grabbed him by the arm before he could lash out. “Let’s go.”
The pair moved through the crowd with determination. Time’s eyes scanned the room but he caught no sight of the boys. Did they already get out safely? Would they be alright? He and Dark nodded as they passed the bouncers flanking either side of the VIP section entrance. Dark slapped one of them on the shoulder as he passed.
“No one gets out.”
The Goron guards moved in to bodily block the staircase as Time and Dark ascended it.
Moving away from the crowds and the noise, some of the tension left Time’s neck and shoulders. He took the lead, sliding his gun out of its holster and feeling the comfort of cool metal on his damp palms. It helped him feel more in control. His jaw clenched as they ghosted down the empty hallway. 1-B, 2-B…
Time and Dark flanked the doorway at the private lounge 3-B. Time’s eyes were hard, his expression stony. Dark’s eyes glinted with the excitement of bloodshed.
Together, they briskly kicked the door in and burst silently into the room.
Chapter 4
Summary:
In which Time plays some music, Twilight learns about late-night cookie baking, and the boys go shopping.
Notes:
I don’t CW tag my individual chapters because spoilers. So if you’ve read the tags for the story overall and are comfortable with what’s in store, you have nothing to fear. If there are things in the tags you are worried about, please proceed with caution.
A/N: Updated 12/6/21, mainly for line edits. Some changes were made to the first (therapy) scene, and there is a dialogue change in the last scene relevant to Twilight’s subplot.
Chapter Text
It took a few more sessions for the Fierce Deity to come up in conversation again. Saria would never push it. Time was always the one to lead the conversation during their sessions with only gentle coaxing from her when needed.
He was normally calm and clinical as he discussed his work. He spoke eloquently and didn’t tend to mince words. But this time, something had changed. This time, his sentences were halting, like he kept stopping himself from saying things. He was also spending quite a bit of time avoiding eye contact today.
“There is… I’ve always had to deal with the concept of collateral damage.” Each time he stopped, Time would shift in his chair ever so slightly. “Sometimes, others get hurt when you’re focused on your target. And that’s always something I’ve been good at… dealing with. But it was easier when it was just me.”
As Saria felt the conversation turning toward the boys, she slowly set down her pen. Time followed the motion with his eye.
“It’s no longer just me.” When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, Time looked like he was begging her for help. “When I look at the faces of those who get in the way, it’s Malon, it’s Legend, it’s Hyrule, it’s Twilight.”
When Time lapsed into tense silence, Saria gave him several long seconds before she prompted him, “How does that make you feel?”
“Terrified.” He blurted it out before he could think to censor himself. Hearing the word from his own mouth caused him to tense — a split second of panic — before he begrudgingly settled in to the discomfort of the feeling. This was a hypothetical, a controlled environment where Time could reach out from within to touch the feeling, to test the waters.
“I would be beside myself if something happened to any one of them.”
***
The following morning, Twilight was very distracted as he got showered and dressed. He was the last to make it downstairs for breakfast and he murmured a morning greeting to the others as he entered the kitchen, his eyes never leaving his phone.
“—think about it, though.” Wild was busy tending to some sizzling vegetables and eggs in a pan. “Tomatoes are a fruit, right?”
“Yeah,” Legend deadpanned, not looking up from his book.
“So ketchup is a fruit spread!”
“No.”
“So you can totally put it on toast!!”
“You’re disgusting.”
Twilight pawed blindly at the refrigerator, missing the first few swipes before he finally found the door handle. He rooted around in it with one hand, tapping away at his phone with the other.
Wild eyed Twilight curiously as he slid his omelette onto a plate. “Who’s that?”
Twilight didn’t even realize he’d been spoken to. He set the jug of orange juice on the counter and immediately snapped to attention when his phone chirped. His lips moved slightly as he read what was on the screen to himself.
Four seemed to come out of nowhere, snatching Twilight’s phone out of his hand before he could even blink. Twilight lunged but Four was faster, tossing the phone to where Warriors sat at the table.
“Ohh, it looks like somebody’s chatting up miss Midna this morning,” Wars teased. He pitched the phone just as Twilight dove toward him, sending it toward the couch where Wind snatched it in midair.
“She wants to know what you’re up to this weekend!” Wind snickered, his thumbs already typing away at Twilight’s screen.
“I will murder you,” Twilight snarled. Before he could grab his phone, Wind lobbed it over his head toward the kitchen. Wild caught it this time.
“‘I’m planning on catching a few shows this weekend while I’m in town,’” Wild began reading in a high-pitched voice. He ducked under Twilight’s swipe, deftly turning around to be behind him now. “‘Let me know if you’d like to come—’”
“Wild, please,” Twilight begged, chasing him around the island as Wild danced away from him.
Wild grinned widely. “Oh my goddess, does she really call you ‘Wolfie’—”
Wild grunted as he impacted what felt like a solid brick wall. He looked up to find Sky looming over him, sharp disapproval on his normally soft face. Wild straightened up, smiling sheepishly as he set Twilight’s phone in Sky’s hand without being told to. He cowered as the taller boy stepped past him.
“Thanks,” Twilight muttered as he accepted his phone. His face was seven shades of red by that point.
Sky smiled, patting Twilight’s shoulder. “I think it’s a cute pet name!”
“It’s not a pet name,” Twilight grumbled at their teasing as he pulled a glass from the cupboard. But as he started pouring himself some orange juice, movement out in the yard caught his eye.
There were some days when Time just wanted to be left alone. One of the earliest clues that he was having that kind of day was when he would spend breakfast outside of the house. He sat at a small table in the yard with a steaming mug of coffee, just… staring. The fairies that normally danced around their lilac bushes hovered near him. Twilight set his carton on the counter, frowning as he saw how tired the old man looked.
“He’s been out there all morning.” Legend stepped up next to Twilight at the counter, reaching for the coffee pot. “Came down, poured his coffee, slammed the door.”
Wild came up beside them, glancing out the window. “Think he’s mad at us?”
“He’s mad at someone .” Legend kept his eyes fixed out the window, his look of concern deepening the longer he stared. It was the same stare he got when he was working on one of his weird rituals.
“What’s wrong?” Twilight ventured.
Legend’s mouth twitched, but his eyes didn’t move. “Fairies.”
“What?” Wild laughed nervously. “What’s wrong with fairies? They’re good luck!”
“Yeah, modern marketing has turned fairies into a symbol of luck so people can sell you kitschy shit.” Twilight and Wild both crowded in around Legend as his voice dropped, staring out at Time as he sat in the yard. “Old Hylian traditions view fairies as a symbol of death. When people were on their deathbed, seeing fairies crowding on the windowsill was considered a very ill omen.”
One of the fairies alighted on Time’s hand where he held his coffee mug. He didn’t react, still staring straight ahead.
Something unpleasant turned in Twilight’s stomach.
“Legend, that’s the creepiest shit you’ve come up with all week.” Twilight startled as Warriors slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him away from the window. “Come on, man, focus! If you don’t agree to hang out with her this weekend, she’s going to think you’re stringing her along. What’s the plan?”
“Plan?” Twilight frowned, glancing momentarily at his phone. “I don’t know, nothing’s set in stone. Besides, the more we talk, the more I think… maybe she’s just a friend, y’know?”
“That’s quitter talk!” Warriors pulled Twilight in close, smushing their cheeks together as his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Picture it, Twi: you meet her out at the bar, you woo her with that sweet country-boy naïveté—”
“Hey, I’m not—”
“—you take her out for a midnight walk beneath the stars, she finds you irresistible! You sit on a park bench talking for hours, and when you walk her home, she turns to you in the doorway to invite you up—”
As Warriors continued his dramatic predictions, the back door creaked open. Twilight listened over the snickering and commentary of his friends as Time shut the back door, bypassing the kitchen and proceeding straight down the hallway, straight up the stairs, without saying hello.
“...and there’s no room for debate, we have to go out and get you something proper to wear now!”
“Huh?” Twilight snapped out of it as Warriors finally let him go. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“It’s decided! I am not taking ‘no’ for an answer.” Warriors turned with a flourish, retreating back to the living room. “We will have you looking polished and proper in no time!”
Twilight glanced down at his outfit, frowning. Legend murmured as he passed, “You know he still hasn’t given the old man back his credit card.”
***
Time spent the majority of his day on the third floor. He was grateful to have the entire floor to himself in the new townhouse, both to give himself privacy and to keep himself away from the boys when he was like this.
Time lay on top of his duvet on the bed, staring up at the ceiling absently. He didn’t want to do anything, didn’t have the energy to. In the silence, his mind veered in unpleasant directions.
You got lucky last night, but it’s still a close call.
One of these days, those boys are going to get caught in your crosshairs.
Time sighed, closing his eyes as he firmly pinched the bridge of his nose.
First Great Deku, then Navi…
How many more lives are you going to destroy before you’re dead?
Some protector you are.
Time inhaled sharply as he sat up. Sitting idly was not working well for him. He needed to do something. Time flexed his fingers, glancing around his room for something to do, something to touch.
The anxious buzzing abated somewhat as he laid eyes on the small wooden box on his dresser. It had been years since he’d opened that box. Music was one of the things Saria had suggested as a strategy for staving off bad feelings. Desperate for something to break the nasty cycle in his mind, Time carefully took the box from the bureau. He sat cross-legged on the bed, dusting it off as he set it in his lap.
The glint of light on the sapphire glaze softened the lines of Time’s face. Lullaby had given him this ocarina a very long time ago as both a gesture of thanks and of comfort. “Great Deku had one much like this,” she had explained, “but his was lost to time. Hopefully this one will sound the same.”
The instrument was much smaller in his hands than it used to be. Time’s fingertips sank into familiar holes. The first note he tried wavered with uncertainty, and his ears burned with embarrassment. The boys were going to hear him, weren’t they? But even just that single note pulled on something in his chest. So Time closed his eyes and brought the instrument back to his lips.
Playing the ocarina required both dexterity and total concentration, and Time’s worry and self-loathing began fading into the background as he focused. He tested the notes, trying to remember the intricacies of scales and half-tones. The echoes of old songs played in his mind, but it would take him a while to remember how to play most of them. There was one song, though, that was indelibly imprinted into his muscle memory. It kept him company on cold and lonely nights in Termina, or laid up in anonymous hospital beds, or perched on the edge of a stone wall outside of a graveyard waiting for the sun to set. It was nostalgic and soothing: the soft tones of a child’s lullaby.
Time closed his eye, letting the melody unravel the stiffness in his fingers, in his shoulders, in his heart. His initial embarrassment gradually melted away, replaced instead by serenity as soft notes looped back around on themselves for as long as he needed them to.
He spent several minutes enjoying the sweet sounds of that melody as they chased away his anxiety. As the notes faded into silence, he lowered the ocarina into his lap, running his thumb along the triforce embossed on the neck of the instrument. His eye caught a new shadow along the floor, though, and he was surprised to find that his bedroom door was ajar.
Time slowly moved off of the bed, walking toward the door and pulling it open. “Oh,” he said, quietly surprised, “I didn’t hear you…”
Standing in the hallway with a tray of fruits and cheeses in his hands, Wild stared at Time in silence.
“...Wild?”
No, not at him. It was like Wild stared through Time, his gaze fixed and far away, his mouth slack. Time was unsettled by his expression. Was he asleep on his feet? When waving a hand in front of his face did nothing to rouse him, Time set a gentle hand on Wild’s shoulder.
The tray slipped from Wild’s hands and before Time could catch it, it clattered to the floor. The noise caused Wild to jump, blinking several times before he looked down at the floor, at the berries and cheese cubes that had tumbled across the carpet. “Oh shit, I’m sorry sir!” Wild was on his hands and knees immediately, crawling along the carpet and piling food back onto the tray.
Time slowly crouched down to Wild’s level, carefully watching him as he helped to clean up the mess. Wild was just a bit flushed, and he avoided eye contact as he worked.
Time set a hand on Wild’s arm. “Are you feeling alright?” His voice was saturated with worry.
“Yeah,” Wild half-laughed, waving away Time’s concern. “Sorry, sometimes I just zone out like that! I know it’s weird. Hasn’t happened in a long time.” They both slowly stood, and Wild didn’t waver as he got back to his feet. “I was bringing you some food because you missed lunch! I didn’t mean to bother you. Let me grab some new cheese and wash off these—”
“Wild,” Time interrupted quietly, “have you ever talked to anyone about this? Maybe Hyrule?”
Wild stopped, looking up at Time thoughtfully. “Well, no,” he admitted, “but maybe that’s not a bad idea.”
“Maybe,” Time echoed, a concerned smile tugging at his lips. “Why don’t you leave that here, I can carry it downstairs.”
“Oh no, I’ll be alright!” Wild bounced off toward the stairs like nothing had happened at all. “I’ll be back up in just a few minutes, okay?”
“There’s no need,” Time sighed, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him. “Why don’t I join you in the kitchen for a little while?”
***
Even if he had the luxury of taking some time off during the morning, there were some appointments that Time couldn’t cancel that day.
The royal tailor Rhondson had a small shop at the western end of the castle. It wasn’t the first time he’d been there, and Time always felt a little silly as he stood on the pedestal in front of her five-way mirror. It was like getting fitted for his wedding tuxedo all over again. He held out his arms as the tall Gerudo woman ran a measuring tape along his broad shoulders, calling out numbers to her assistant.
“Well well, don’t you look pretty.”
Time glanced behind himself in the mirror to where Dark stood leaning against the doorway, looking smug. In one hand he held a small, leafy potted plant.
Time squinted at him. “What’s that, an apology?”
Dark held up his offering. “I thought you could use some fresh air in your cave.”
“Is it poisonous?”
“What does it matter? Only silver bullets can kill you.”
The tailor took Time’s face in her hands, turning him to face directly forward again, muttering something in her native tongue. “Well,” Time went on, “last night was a resounding failure.”
“Yes, my informants left some things to be desired.” Dark stepped into the room to set his plant on the table next to Time’s other belongings.
“Well I’d much rather break down the door to an empty room than have a mess of innocent people on our hands.”
Dark began eyeing a rack of expensive garments that hung awaiting fittings and alterations as the tailor’s assistant watched him warily. “Well once I get a bead on the target, I’ll start tailing him myself.”
“Discreetly,” Time reminded him lowly.
Dark grinned as he met Time’s eyes in the mirror, holding out his arms. “Look at me! Aren’t I the very picture of discretion?”
Time quirked a brow at the short silver spikes that studded the shoulders of Dark’s jacket.
Dark ignored the silent criticism. “I’ll be getting this assignment out of the way pretty quick, so hopefully your schedule is flexible for the next day or two.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have time for that.” Rhondson’s finger under his chin directed Time to lift his head. “I told you I won’t be babysitting you forever, and I have my own assignments to be focusing on right now.”
“Like playing dress-up?”
“Just get rid of them.” Time held his arms out at his sides. “I don’t care how. Make it look like an accident.”
Dark regarded him quietly for a moment before nodding. “Alright, then.” He leaned against the door frame again, glancing momentarily at the seamstress’s assistant. “And then we will start discussing the Dragmire case, or…”
Time lifted his arm to accept the sash that the seamstress laid across his chest, satin in a bright shade of blue. “I have Sheikah informants monitoring everything that passes in and out of the Gerudo Wastes. Your services aren’t needed.”
“Then cut me loose.”
Time looked up to meet Dark’s eyes in the mirror, finding something raw there.
“Seriously, Link. If you’re not going to use me as an informant, then you have no need for me, right? I want no part of this circus. I wanted out of it years ago.”
“I didn’t realize you were planning on going somewhere,” Time replied coolly.
Dark stared at him in the mirror for several long, silent seconds. Time could feel the chill seeping off of him. “You’re no better than them,” he hissed before muttering something in a language Time didn’t understand. Dark abruptly turned, exiting the small shop without another word.
Time glanced curiously between the two women who now studiously avoided his gaze. Of course he would speak Gerudo. “What did he say?”
Rhondson fussed with pinning the sash across Time’s chest. She pretended not to hear him.
“I already assume it’s offensive,” Time added.
Rhondson’s delivery was as direct and humorless as he would expect: “He suggested we add a flap to the seat of your pants, since you ‘enjoy shoving your head up your own ass.’”
***
Twilight breathed the cool morning air in through his nose, out through his mouth. He was consciously trying not to psych himself out but finding it hard not to. On the opposite side of the yard, Time stood in an easy low stance, turned slightly to the side, waiting.
Your move.
When he couldn’t stand it any longer, Twilight lunged for Time’s middle, but the old man was infuriatingly quick. Time twisted away just before Twilight caught him, and Twilight felt the light tap on the back of his head as he stumbled past where Time had stood.
“You are broadcasting your intentions, you realize.”
Twilight huffed as he turned and immediately dropped back into his waiting stance, wide-based and low. “Wrestling isn’t about stealth, it’s about strength.”
“That may be true—” Time was cut off as Twilight dove for him again and, to prove his point, Time ducked low as he moved out of the way. He caught Twilight by the ankle and heaved upward, sending Twilight tumbling onto his back. “But you’re not always going to be the strongest in a fight, especially if you get caught in a back alley somewhere, so you should try to be the smartest.”
Twilight swallowed his frustration and hopped back onto his feet. He was finding his lack of success somewhat embarrassing. “We live in Castle Town. Where is this mythical ‘back alley’ you keep worrying about?”
“Behind some bar off of South Road.”
Twilight’s scowl was dismissive of Time’s concern. As he moved in again, he kept his eyes on Time’s face but stayed focused on his feet. When he saw which way Time shifted his weight, he lunged to the side, finally catching Time around his middle.
“Better!” Rather than being startled, Time twisted in Twilight’s arms. The motion jarred Twilight enough to break his hold, and Time shoved him back to arm’s length. Twilight was panting with the effort it had taken to get this far, while Time had finally just broken a sweat. “Again.”
“You know, normal families spend their mornings sharing breakfast together.” Warriors had appeared on the back porch, leaning against the railing. “Not beating the snot out of one another in the backyard.”
“I don’t think anyone is ever going to mistake us for a ‘normal family,’ Wars.” Twilight barely gave Time the chance to reset his stance before he moved in again, becoming frustrated with how easily he was losing this little game.
“Nonsense!” Not having the time to dodge, Time instead crouched lower, leveling his shoulder with Twilight’s chest and taking the full brunt of his impact. The force sent him sliding backward but it didn’t push him off of his feet. Twilight managed to get his arm around Time’s neck, but then the world flipped and Twilight grunted as he landed on his back in the grass. “This is considered bonding, isn’t it?”
Twilight stayed down this time, slumping into the grass with a groan.
“Looking for someone to tap in, Twi?” Warriors descended the porch steps. “I wouldn’t mind going a round or two.”
There was something funny in Warriors’s tone, and Time picked up on it right away. He stood straighter, rolling out his shoulder. “Sure, I could use a cooldown.”
Twilight accepted the hand Warriors offered him, peeling himself off of the ground. If he felt any tension in the air he thought nothing of it, trudging off toward the porch tiredly.
“So.” Warriors raised his fist in a gesture of respect, and Time met War’s knuckles with his own. Warriors eased into a loose open stance, his arms raised in front of himself. “I heard you cornered Sky in your study the other day,” he spoke low enough so that only Time would hear.
Time sank into his own ready stance, lifting his heels as he saw just how light on his feet Warriors was. “Sky and I finally had a chance to catch up and get to know each other a little better.” He kept his eye trained on Warriors’s face, his smile benign.
Warriors’s smile fell, replaced by an unusual seriousness. He moved in first, his motions quick and decisive. He was inside Time’s defense before the older man could shift his weight, and Time blocked the strike aimed for his ribs with his forearm.
Time backed off abruptly but Warriors stayed on him, staring, focused. “It sounded more like an interrogation to me.” His foot connected with Time’s thigh, the impact stinging sharply. His retaliatory feint sent Warriors hopping back several steps, but not out of cowardice. Time moved in toward Warriors now, keeping his arms raised defensively, making no move to strike.
“One wouldn’t consider it an interrogation unless they had something to hide.” Time batted away the high kick aimed for his head.
Warriors had him pinned with unwavering focus. Although it was something he’d never seen before on War’s face, it definitely wasn’t an act. “You were grilling him about why he left the Royal Guard.”
“I was trying to fill in some of the blanks as to what I do and don’t know about him.” Time didn’t back down as Warriors crowded him in. “What does it matter to you?”
Time watched Warriors’s jaw flex.
The low kick to his shin was a distraction. Time ducked beneath the fist aimed for his face, lashing out before he could think better of it. But Wars could take a hit better than Time gave him credit for, merely shaking out his arm as he moved right back in, still challenging. “Because it’s none of your business,” Warriors spat.
Twilight slumped in one of the chairs on the back porch, watching the two of them go at it. He couldn’t hear their conversation very well from this far away, but now he could definitely read the tension between them. Warriors made a game of getting others riled up, and Time was no exception, but something about this exchange seemed… off.
“Those who have nothing to hide shouldn’t fear telling the truth.” Time lowered his arm to block the high kick aimed for his ribs. “Any good strategist should know that, don’t you think?”
A flash of real anger showed in Warriors’s eyes for a split second.
When Warriors moved in to strike, Time ducked down and moved in swiftly. War’s fist harmlessly sailed over his head as Time caught him around the chest and sent them both tumbling to the grass. Warriors was at a grave disadvantage grappling like this; Time caught him easily around the neck and shoulder with one arm.
“Lashing out with emotion? You were trained better than that.” Time’s voice was infuriatingly calm as he rested his weight on War’s back, pinning him thoroughly. Unable to break out of Time’s hold, Warriors settled on striking repeatedly at what bits of Time he could reach - his thighs, his ribs, the arm around his neck. Time tolerated it, maintaining his firm hold until Warriors tired himself out.
Once Warriors tapped out, Time sat back on his heels, panting from the exertion. Warriors hopped to his feet again, putting some distance between them, avoiding Time’s gaze.
“Warriors, I’m not trying to make trouble for either of you.”
“Well you’re going to if you continue to pry.” Warriors’s voice was cold as he turned back toward the house. Gone was the easygoing swagger he normally carried himself with, and Time felt a pang of regret in his chest. He must have hit a nerve.
“If something happened... I can help, if you’d let me.”
Warriors didn’t so much as stop to consider Time’s words. “What happened in the past is done, so stay out of it.”
Twilight said nothing, following Warriors with his eyes as he stomped up the porch steps and back into the house.
Although he’d won the match, Time looked distinctly defeated as he sat in the grass alone.
***
Every once in a while, Twilight would have trouble sleeping.
Sometimes the silence in the house just got to be too loud. His ears would play tricks on him in the dark, in that space between sleep and wakefulness. The sound of someone’s phone going off down the hallway might get him started, might make his heart begin to race. It was usually the sounds that set him off first: pounding on the door that echoed in his head, the sounds of shouting, of breaking dishes, the crack of splintering wood.
When it got really bad, even the smell - blood and sweat and burning hair - would start to filter in, vivid and terrifying. It all just happened so fast, too fast, on what was otherwise a normal night, just like tonight had been. There was literally nothing stopping anyone from pounding on the door and reaching in to open all the locks, and he could just imagine the blood soaking into the carpet at the top of the stairs to the third floor, and they would be dragging his friends out of their beds and the sounds of everyone yelling at once and he wouldn’t know who to help first—
“Twi.”
Twilight shot up in bed. His sleep shirt clung to his back, damp with sweat. He grasped handfuls of the sheets, his eyes darting around in the dark.
“Hey.” Wild sat on the edge of the bed, firmly gripping Twilight’s shoulder. “You with me?”
It took a second or two for reality to catch up with him. Not the same city. Not the same townhouse. It was the third time he’d woken up already that night, and apparently Twilight wasn’t the only one startled awake by his dreams.
“Yeah,” Twilight huffed, “sorry, yeah. I think…” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I guess I can’t sleep.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Wild jostled Twilight’s shoulder as he smiled. “Want to make some cookies?”
“...What?”
Sneaking down the stairs in the dark, Twilight eyed the front door cautiously. He resisted the itch in his fingers that made him want to double- and triple-check every lock on the door. He glanced into every corner of the living room with wide eyes, peered out the windows at the empty street in front of the house. He was so preoccupied that he stumbled into Wild, and he mouthed an apology in the dark.
Once they made it to the kitchen, Twilight slumped onto a stool at the counter, rubbing his hands over his face again. He was somehow both wired and absolutely exhausted. “Listen,” he murmured, “I’m sorry I woke you up, you really don’t have to—”
“It wasn’t you, man, it was my stomach.” Wild turned on the light over the oven, bathing the kitchen in a warm, dim glow. He retrieved a large bowl from one of the cabinets, setting it down in front of Twilight. “Cookies always taste better after midnight! Peanut butter or chocolate chip?”
Some of Twilight’s guilt faded under Wild’s easygoing smile. “Uh, you pick.”
Wild moved about the kitchen almost soundlessly, plucking ingredients from the pantry and measuring cups from the cupboard as he whispered about sugar ratios and butter temperatures. Twilight’s eyes wandered the back wall of the kitchen, straining to see out the tiny window into the back yard, trying to pick out shapes moving in the dark.
“...and melting the butter makes the cookies chewier — is that a word? It is now. I like ‘em chewy, I mean it’s a cookie, not a cake.” Wild leaned over the counter, pouring the first cups of white and brown sugar into the bowl before handing Twilight a wooden spoon.
Twilight frowned. “Not going to use a mixer?”
“Twi, it’s two o’clock in the morning. Do you want Legend coming down here in his pink bunny slippers to yell at us to be quiet?” Wild shook his head playfully. “You have a lot to learn about stealth baking, my friend. You get to be the mixer.”
So Twilight got to work, mixing together the sugars, the melted butter, beating the eggs in one at a time. It wasn’t an impossible task but it wasn’t the easiest, either. He had to really focus to get the batter smooth, which kept him from glancing out the kitchen window every thirty seconds.
“Hey Twi, do you believe in past lives?”
Twilight glanced up at Wild. “Is ‘existential crisis’ a normal part of two AM cookie baking?”
Wild wrinkled his nose as he poured the first cup of flour into the bowl. “No, man, I’m serious. Do you ever, like, get deja vu for things you could never have been a part of?”
“Not really.” Twilight scraped down the sides of the bowl. “Do you?”
“Sometimes.” Wild slouched onto the counter, resting his chin in his hands. His eyes were far away. “Sometimes I get this weird feeling like, I don’t know… Like I used to be a soldier, or a knight, or something.”
“Like a medieval knight?”
“I think so, yeah. Sort of.” Wild frowned. “Like, waking up in the middle of the night thinking that you’ve forgotten about a princess somewhere, or remembering how it feels to use a sword, or something.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever had that feeling.” Twilight held out the bowl for Wild to add the next cup of flour, hesitating for a moment. “I’ve felt something… sort-of similar before, I guess.”
“Yeah?”
Twilight frowned in thought, feeling the tips of his ears growing warm. “I’ve felt it about other people before, sorta. You know when you automatically hit it off with someone? Sometimes I feel like I’ve met them before, a long time ago… like I’ve always known them, or something.”
“Like you were destined to meet them?”
Twilight hesitated as Wild leaned over to add in a bowl full of chocolate chips. “I guess.”
“Like soulmates.”
He’d said it so simply, like the answer was obvious. Twilight felt his cheeks warming now under Wild’s bright gaze. “...Y-Yeah.”
Wild grinned slyly. “You really like that Midna girl, huh?”
Twilight straightened up at the accusation before averting his gaze with a displeased sound.
The pair fell into amicable silence as they worked together taking spoonfuls of batter and rolling them into little balls. Wild’s cookie balls were perfect; Twilight’s were always just a bit lop-sided. Once the bowl was emptied and the trays were filled, Twilight slouched at the counter, following Wild with his eyes as his friend popped them into the oven.
“How do you feel now?”
“Tired,” Twilight yawed.
“No, how do you feel?” Wild reached over to tap Twilight’s forehead with the butt end of the spoon.
Twilight took a moment to consider his answer. “Better,” he admitted.
“See? Cookies always help.”
Wild milled about the kitchen, quietly cleaning up. He kept his eye on the clock as he worked since he couldn’t set a noisy timer. After thirteen minutes exactly, he pulled the first batch of cookies from the oven and turned toward Twilight, beaming. “Check it out, you did a great job!”
And Twilight probably would have been proud of himself, at least a little, if he wasn’t sitting face down on his forearms, fast asleep.
***
Their shopping spree the following morning was like slow torture for Twilight. He spent what felt like hours trapped in a dressing room while the boys pushed clothing into his hands for him to try on. Their contributions ranged from colorful-but-dull polo shirts to a ridiculous faux fur vest with pointed ears on top of the hood. Wild seemed very put-out when Twilight refused to buy the vest, but he did agree to buy two of the shirts Warriors had picked out just to shut him up.
“How about asking her out for lunch?”
By the time they were heading back to the car, Twilight was fairly certain his tension headache was turning into a migraine. He unlocked the doors, tossing his bags into the back seat. “She doesn’t strike me as much of a morning person. I think she’d rather meet up in the evening.”
Warriors hummed in thought as he helped himself to the front passenger seat. “Dinner seems a bit too intimate for a first date.”
“You could have her over the house.” Wild frowned as Twilight took him by the shoulders, steering him away from the driver’s side door. Twilight shooed him into the second row of seats alongside Legend. “I could make you guys a nice dinner!”
“Yeah right,” Legend scowled as he leaned away from Wild, balancing a to-go cup of coffee in one hand, “like they would get any meaningful privacy at home. Are you going to lock Wind in a closet?”
“Alright, well a date at home is out of the question for the time being, but let’s focus on one thing at a time.” Warriors leaned against the passenger door as he addressed Twilight. “Let’s go over what you’re wearing again.”
Twilight heaved a long-suffering sigh as he turned out of the parking garage and on to the street. “Polo shirt you just picked out for me, the jeans you insisted I buy even though I swear they’re too tight, and my leather boots.”
“No, I am throwing out those hideous boots as soon as we get back.”
Twilight snorted. “The hell you are.”
“Twilight,” Warriors leaned across the front seat, grinning despite the threat in his tone, “so help me, if you dare—”
Four snorted at them, sitting back in his seat and busying himself in his phone. Legend grumbled something unintelligible about Wild needing a seatbelt before fixing his eyes out the window.
“But they’re comfortable!” Twilight half-turned in the driver’s seat, smirking at Warriors’s fuming.
“Just let him wear what he wants,” Legend groaned, “I am so sick of hearing you two argue about this.”
“Twilight they are going to completely ruin the look—”
“So I’ll wear the black ones instead of the brown!”
Wild leaned forward into the front seats, sticking his head between Twilight and Warriors. “Can we stop for milkshakes? Please??”
“No one should have to be seen with you out in public in those horrible barn shoes.”
“They’re fancy enough!”
“Oh, there is no such thing as fancy—”
“Look, I don’t know that I’m even that into her, guys!” Twilight finally broke. His shoulders inched up toward his ears at the admission.
“What? Why not?” Four leaned forward from his place in the last row of seats. “I mean, what’s not to like? She’s so… tall.”
“There’s…” Twilight felt himself wilting beneath the weight of everyone staring. “There’s somebody else, alright?”
Wild’s eyes flicked just past where Twilight sat. His smile dropped as he reached down to grab onto something, anything. “Twilight, look ou—”
Twilight didn’t have time to turn.
He was stunned by the jarring impact, and he shouted as his neck was wrenched to the side. Glass shattered shrilly around them before the car doors erupted in white cushions. For a surreal moment, everything was floating: the bags of clothing strewn across the back seat, Legend’s black coffee, the shards of glass that scattered thin red lines across Twilight’s forearm. He shut his eyes tightly as his stomach flipped once, twice, and metal groaned above his head.
When the world finally came to a halt, Twilight struggled to get his bearings.
The world was upside-down.
His neck was screaming in pain.
Wild was gone.
And all he could smell was smoke.
Chapter 5
Summary:
In which Time forgets how to behave in a hospital, everybody gets hugs, and the boys meet a new old friend.
Notes:
A/N: Updated 12/6/21 for some minor line edits here and there.
Chapter Text
“Hello, you’ve reached the confidential voicemail of Saria. Please leave your message after the tone.”
Time hardly waited for the beep to begin talking.
“Saria, I know this is last minute but I need to cancel our appointment this afternoon. Something’s— … Something has come up. I have to go to the hospital. I’m not hurt. The boys—”
His throat tightened. He couldn’t say it. That would make it real. That would mean it’s really happening. This isn’t really happening. He wouldn’t say it.
“I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything when I see you next week.”
***
The automatic doors at the entrance to the Emergency Room didn’t open fast enough. Time shoved through them, brushing past slower-moving patrons on his way through the main lobby. He bypassed the registration desk and burst through the doors into the treatment area.
He looked ready to murder someone.
Time glanced into treatment rooms frantically as he hurried down the main hallway. He ignored the sound of someone calling behind him, pushing forward at a pace just shy of a run. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his arm that he turned to glare up at the Zora nurse who had been beckoning him.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you need to register at the main—”
Time kept his voice low, but it was no less threatening. “I am looking for my boys—”
“Sir, I understand that, but we can’t help you unless—”
“It’s okay, Petra.” Time was relieved when Hyrule stepped between them. “He’s with me.”
The nurse glared first at Hyrule, then at Time, before huffing as she turned away from them both.
Hyrule glanced up at Time with the barest smile on his face. “Come on,” he murmured, already leading them down the hall.
“What happened?” Time couldn’t stop himself from glancing into treatment rooms as they passed.
“Side-impact collision, one ejection. The vehicle rolled twice before coming to a stop.” Hyrule delivered the information firmly and concisely. “Driver’s side was hit.”
“Who was driving?”
“Twilight.” Hyrule swallowed, feeling Time’s gaze boring into the back of his head. “Superficial contusions on his face and left side and cervical strain—”
“Hyrule.” Time’s tone was somewhere between frustration and worry.
“Sorry, sorry.” Hyrule pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’re okay. Twilight has whiplash and a lot of bruising. Wars hit his head, but no concussion. Legend and Four are a little banged up...”
The pair turned the corner toward a quieter hallway in the emergency ward. Sitting on a short bench near the end of the hall, Twilight, Warriors, Legend, and Four were slouched in various states of injury. Twilight stood as soon as he saw Time, his eyes red-rimmed and his face pale. “I’m so sorry,” he started right away, “I didn’t see—”
Twilight didn’t get the chance to finish. Time embraced him firmly, and Twilight was startled by how his arms subtly shook. He wasn’t quite sure whether Time was offering him comfort or using Twilight to steady himself. Regardless, Twilight squeezed his eyes shut, leaning heavily against him.
When Time stepped back, he looked down at the others, appraising their injuries. “Was anyone else with you?”
Fresh regret welled in Twilight’s eyes, and none of the boys met Time’s gaze. He felt panic rising again.
Hyrule cleared his throat. “Wild is okay,” he started, his voice even and reassuring. “He has a concussion and a few lacerations, but it could have been a lot worse. He was very lucky.”
Time heaved a long, steadying breath. “Where is he?”
Hyrule motioned to the room they were seated outside. “He just got back from CT, the nurses are getting him settled. Once he’s awake, depending on his neuro exam, he’ll probably be able to come right home.”
Time glanced at each of the boys. They looked exhausted. Four slumped against the wall, rubbing his fingers along the bandage on the back of his hand as he stared off. Warriors sat slouched forward with his head in his hands. Legend’s knee bounced restlessly, vibrating his entire body. Twilight was clearly in pain, brows drawn together as he rubbed the side of his neck.
“You boys deserve some rest,” Time frowned as he spoke. “You should all go home. I can stay until Wild is ready to be discharged.”
They all glanced up toward Time before exchanging looks with one another. Legend was the one to shake his head. “We’ll stay,” he murmured. “It’s fine.”
Before Time could argue, Hyrule set a hand on his arm. “Renado will want to see you,” he said, glancing meaningfully down the hall.
As they walked down the hallway together, Hyrule went on about Wild’s injuries in a calm, clinical manner. “Wild wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, and I’ll be having a discussion with him myself about that once I get home. His concussion was minor, and he needed a few stitches on his face and arms from the windshield.” Time watched the way Hyrule’s shoulders tightened. “So reckless and irresponsible! He was lucky he didn’t get run over when—”
“Hyrule, how are you?”
Hyrule glanced up at Time, and the look in Time’s eye made him pause. The young doctor had been doing this long enough by now that he could tamp down the terror of triaging his friends. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to, after all. Still, the sadness was there, even if he could ignore it for the time being.
Hyrule’s gaze fell. He couldn’t lie, but he didn’t want to answer. He couldn’t focus on that right now.
But he didn’t need to. Time set an arm around Hyrule’s shoulders. He closed his eyes as he leaned into Time for just a moment, feeling him solid and supportive and there.
“We really must stop meeting like this.”
Renado smiled warmly as he approached the pair. “I promise, the next time I see you will be for something pleasant,” Time sighed, firmly shaking Renado’s hand. “Thank you for contacting me.”
“Of course.” Renado turned to address Hyrule. “I haven’t finished your friends’ prescriptions, would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
Renado watched Hyrule head off toward the nurses’ station. “He is shaping up to be a fine doctor.”
“He’s as smart as they come,” Time replied, “much smarter than I was at his age.”
“Yes, but more than that.” Renado’s voice was rich with warmth. “He cares. Many new doctors lose that around this time. To become jaded is a defense mechanism.”
There was that funny twinge in Time’s chest — maybe pride, maybe worry, maybe both.
The smile left Renado’s face as he turned back toward Time, his voice low and quiet. “You may want to know that the driver of the other car wasn’t found.”
And as suddenly as they’d entered, those warm feelings dissipated as icy dread curled in around the edges of Time’s heart. “It was a hit-and-run.”
“Yes, and it appears to be intentional. The vehicle was unregistered, no plates, not a speck of blood inside the cabin.”
“Doctor Renado?” A nurse approached them down the hallway. “The patient in room six is ready for you.”
Renado offered Time a tight smile. “If I find out any further information, you will be the first to know.”
“Thank you, as always.”
As Time marched back down the hallway to be with his boys, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
D.L. - 12:41pm
Hey boss
I made some progress on my assignment today
Time scowled at the screen.
Time - 12:41pm
About time.
I have a situation to handle. We’ll talk tomorrow.
***
Twilight could absolutely not get comfortable. He hadn’t taken the medications Hyrule had given him; he couldn’t imagine keeping anything in his stomach right now if he tried. Slouching in a straight-backed hospital chair at Wild’s beside, he leaned his head against the wall to try and take some of the pressure off of his neck, but it didn’t make much difference.
Wild was asleep for several hours. In that time, some of the others came and went. Twilight was vaguely aware of when Hyrule came to check on him, when Sky had arrived and set a warm hand on his shoulder, when Time stepped out of the room to make a hushed phone call. He felt his own phone vibrating in his pocket but didn’t have the energy to answer. Everyone he cared about was here with him right now, anyway.
“Hey.”
Twilight glanced up as Four gently nudged his arm.
“I could use some fresh air. Walk with me?”
Twilight sat up slowly, glancing between Four and where Wild lay, resting peacefully.
“The guys are here,” Four reminded him. “Come on.”
The side entrance to the treatment ward let out to a small picnic area where employees could take a smoke break or have their lunch outside. The warmth of the afternoon sun soaked into Twilight’s clothes, and only then did he realize how cold he felt. He heard Four’s voice but didn’t register what he’d said, not until Four had pushed a bottle of water into his hand.
“—haven’t had anything all day, have you?” Four frowned up at him. “Come on, man, if they have to admit you too then it’ll be more paperwork for Hyrule.”
Twilight gave a humorless little laugh, murmuring his thanks as he took a long drink. Tilting his head back made his neck sing with pain. He didn’t have long to dwell on that, though, before Four had shoved a protein bar into his other hand, already unwrapped.
They stood leaning against the wall of the hospital together in the sunshine, Twilight staring off as he quietly ate. It was a long while before he spoke up. “I swear I didn’t see them, Four.”
“We know you didn’t.” Four kept his gaze fixed forward, his hands in his pockets. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“I feel horrible,” Twilight huffed, crushing up the empty wrapper. “I should have been paying attention.”
“Well, that guy shouldn’t have gone through a red light. Wild should have worn a seatbelt. Wars shouldn’t have dragged us all out in the first place. The old man shouldn’t have bought us a car.” Four shrugged. “A lot of things could have been different that would have changed the outcome. This isn’t your fault.”
Twilight rubbed at the side of his neck, pressing his thumb into the muscle that was so tight it made his head throb. “I guess.”
“No.” Four nudged his arm again, his eyes focused on Twilight intensely. They looked almost red in the sunlight. “Say it. This isn’t your fault.”
Twilight frowned, averting his gaze. “It’s not my fault,” he mumbled.
“Good.” Four wasn’t one to hug, but he leaned against Twilight’s side, warm and comforting. “Now I want you to keep repeating that to yourself until you believe it.”
***
Wind sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed, his phone pressed to his ear. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yes.” Time’s voice on the other end of the phone was firm. “Hyrule says he will be able to come home soon, and I trust him. We just have to wait for Wild to wake up and then we’ll be back.”
“Okay.” Wind slouched a bit, picking at the folds of his comforter.
“I don’t know if you’re busy today, but I might need your help with something.”
“Oh?” Wind perked up a bit.
Time’s voice was low and quiet. “I have another assignment for you, if you’re interested. But what you find stays strictly between you and me.”
“You still haven’t looked at any of the information from my first ‘assignment,’” Wind griped.
“This is important, Wind.”
“Okay, okay.” He grabbed his tablet, opening it quickly to begin taking notes. “What’s up?”
“The accident happened at 11:57am at the intersection of Second Street and Eldin Avenue. I need some more information about the person who hit them.”
Wind’s hands suddenly felt ice cold. “Do you think someone hit them on purpose?”
Time’s silence was more than enough to answer Wind’s question.
“Okay.” Wind breathed as he began hurriedly tapping away at his screen. “What do you need?”
“Traffic cameras, security footage, whatever you can find. Use my password, I don’t care.”
Wind quirked a brow, working to keep the mischief from his voice. “If you say so.”
“Remember what we discussed about responsibility.” In the background, Wind heard some sort of commotion. Time sighed. “Sounds like Legend is getting into it with someone. We’ll talk more when I get home.”
“‘Kay.” Wind tossed his phone on the bed, already engrossed in his tablet.
***
Now that he was fed and feeling somewhat more human, Twilight followed behind Four as they meandered back toward Wild’s hospital room. Quick glances into the treatment rooms they passed gave Twilight little snapshots into other people’s lives.
A young father held his toddler in his lap, watching nervously as a doctor looked into the child’s ears.
An old woman sat in the chair next to her husband’s bed, both of them dozing lightly as they held hands.
Three teenage boys in sports uniforms were clustered in one room together, two of them laughing and joking with their friend to distract him as the doctor taped two of his fingers together.
Twilight’s heart throbbed, and not for the first time that day. But the accident could have been worse. The boys were banged up, but they were going to be okay. Wild was going to be fine. It would take a few days for things to get back to normal at the house, but they would. Twilight wondered how he could make it all up to everyone, whether he would need to learn how to cook for nine people…
As they turned the corner into the quiet hallway where Wild was laid up, Four abruptly stopped. He put up his hand, signaling for Twilight to stop as he tilted his head, listening. Twilight felt anxiety tingling in his chest as he strained to listen, too.
“—et him go!!”
The pair was off and running before Twilight had the chance to think about it. With the abrupt spike of adrenaline, suddenly his neck no longer hurt. They skidded to a halt just inside the entrance to Wild’s hospital room.
“Wild, stop!!”
Twilight must have hit his head harder than he’d thought, because there was no way this was really happening.
Wild had Time down on his knees, one arm locked around the much taller man’s throat. Time firmly gripped Wild’s forearm to prevent himself from being choked completely. Legend grunted as he picked himself up off of the floor, wiping blood from the fresh cut on his lip. Wild’s eyes widened as he watched Twilight and Four enter the room, backing away like a cornered animal.
Time held up one hand, motioning for the others to stay back. “Wild,” he ground out, wincing as Wild wrenched him back in warning, “you need to listen to me. You’re in the hospital, you’re safe, we’re not going to hurt you—”
“Four,” Twilight whispered, not taking his eyes off of them, “go get Hyrule.” Once he heard Four’s footsteps vanish down the hallway, he put his hands up, addressing Wild now. “It’s alright,” he tried, fighting back the waver in his own voice. “You’re okay, Wild. Just relax and let him go, okay?”
Twilight’s slow step forward prompted Wild to take two hurried steps back. Everyone jumped as his IV pole clattered to the ground; he’d tugged the line to its limit. Wild’s eyes followed the silicone tubing from the bag on the floor to where it was taped to the back of his hand. Without hesitation, he took the line in his teeth and yanked on it hard. Everyone started shouting all at once as something warm splashed into Time’s hair.
“Wild,” Time tried again, “nobody’s going to hurt you, it’s okay.” It wasn’t until he tucked one of his legs beneath himself that Twilight recognized what Time was doing. He was nearly a foot taller than Wild; all he really needed to do was stand up to regain control over the situation. Rather than using force, though, Time was trying to reason with him.
Wild took another half-step backward, inching toward the window as he pulled harder on Time’s neck. His harried breathing ruffled Time’s hair.
“Wild,” Time wheezed, “I’m going to give you to the count of three, okay? And then I am going to get up.”
“This is bullshit,” Legend muttered. He grabbed one of the IV poles at Wild’s bedside, lifting it like a weapon as he snarled, “Quit it, Wild!”
“One…”
“Don’t!” Twilight snagged the end of the pole, halting Legend in his tracks. “Wild, stop it!!”
“...Two…”
Wild watched them all with wide-eyed terror, blood running down the back of his hand and soaking into Time’s shirt.
Time braced, gripping Wild’s arm tightly. “Thre—”
“Champion?”
Wild’s eyes flitted past where Twilight and Legend struggled over Legend’s makeshift weapon, above where Four slouched panting near the door, past where Hyrule stood trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Behind them, Warriors and Sky stood in the doorway, abject horror on their faces.
“Wars?” Wild blinked, his grip on Time’s neck easing up a bit. “Sky?”
“Easy there, buddy.” The pair both put up their hands as they entered the room, but it was Sky who spoke. “Gonna need you to let him go, okay?”
Wild didn’t flinch away as Sky and Warriors slowly approached. He kept his arm around Time’s neck until they were close enough to back him up if need be before letting go. He put a healthy amount of distance between himself and Time, standing just behind Sky as Warriors helped Time to his feet.
Wild’s eyes darted around the room as he appraised its occupants. He locked eyes with Twilight for only a second before moving on.
“Here, let me see your arm.”
Hyrule had stepped toward Wild, reaching out to examine his bloody hand. Wild wrenched his hand away, bringing the other back as if to strike. It caused a flare of tension in the room: Twilight caught Legend seconds before he lunged to Hyrule’s defense, and Warriors squeezed Time’s shoulder to keep him from intervening as well.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Sky put himself between Wild and Hyrule, holding his hands up. “He’s the doctor, okay? He just wants to help.”
Wild’s eyes flitted nervously from Sky to Hyrule to the rest of the crowd in the hospital room. Warriors cleared his throat. “Why don’t we all give them a minute, okay?” He physically turned Time toward the door, urging him forward.
Twilight set his hand on Legend’s shoulder to pull him back, too, but Legend shrugged out of his grip with a snarl. He moved toward the wall on the opposite side of the hospital bed, putting considerable distance between himself and the others, folding his arms over his chest. The implication was clear: I’m not leaving.
Twilight frowned, taking one last glance back to where Wild stood stiffly holding his arm out for Hyrule to examine. Wild’s eyes remained on Twilight as he moved toward the exit.
There was no recognition there.
***
The rest of that afternoon had gone by in a blur. Twilight registered very little of it. He remembered clustering nervously in the hallway with the others as Warriors avoided eye contact and dodged questions from Time. He remembered Four pulling him away when the two started a not-so-quiet argument and he began to sway on his feet. He remembered how Hyrule hurried down the hallway, and how he was moving even faster with Renado on his tail as they returned to Wild’s room.
The entire time, a miserable mantra kept repeating in his head in time with the throbbing in his neck.
I did this.
My fault.
I should have been paying attention.
This is all my fault.
Wild was going to stay in the hospital a little longer. Twilight didn’t fight it this time when Time ordered them all to go home. There was another black car, another Sheikah driver, another exhausted ride back to the townhouse.
When he got back to his bedroom, Twilight fell face-first onto his bed and stayed like that for several hours.
Through dinner.
Through the night.
Through breakfast.
Through lunch.
When the gentle knock came at his door early the next afternoon, Twilight groaned as he rolled onto his side. The door creaked open quietly.
“Hey,” Sky murmured, “mind if I come in?”
Twilight hummed a negative sound as he pushed himself up on the bed. He rubbed at his face tiredly, glancing at his alarm clock. 1:45pm.
Sky sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a glass of water in one hand, something small in the other. Twilight accepted the glass and held out his other hand, and Sky dropped two pills into his palm. “Wild came home this morning.”
Twilight hummed in acknowledgement, wincing as he tilted his head back to swallow the painkillers. “How is he?”
“He’s okay.” Sky frowned as Twilight stared quietly at the bedsheets in front of him. “How are you?”
Twilight’s brow furrowed. How was he supposed to answer that? Sad? Confused? Angry? Numb? He was everything and nothing all at once. There were so many feelings to address and he couldn’t bring himself to tackle even just one of them, so everything kept piling up, surrounding him, drowning him—
Twilight felt Sky taking the cool glass from his hand before warm arms encircled his shoulders. Twilight closed his eyes — How could he feel so tired when he’d slept so much? — and held his breath as he leaned heavily into his friend.
“This isn’t your fault, Twi,” Sky murmured. “There are a couple things you need to know. If you feel up to it, I can get you up to speed.”
Twilight nodded, squeezing Sky gently before letting him go. He swallowed wetly and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes for just a second.
“I guess I should start from the beginning.” Sky handed him back the glass of water. “Before we met you, Champion— …Wild was in the Royal Guard with me and Warriors. Only he didn’t go by ‘Wild’ back then. We met at boot camp and went through training together, and once we entered the Guard we stayed close. Wars was on castle duty and a member of the combat reserves, and I went on to join the airborne unit. Champion had higher marks than us in almost every category, so he was selected for a different branch.”
Sky’s inflection made Twilight a bit uncomfortable.
“He couldn’t tell us much about the work he did. It was a ‘need to know’ sort of thing. But it seemed really intense.” Sky absently fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “He was quiet about it, but we could tell that he was stressed out. He started acting really weird, seeming paranoid, and he’d talk about nonsense stuff like monks and Koroks. After a while, it was hard to get him to say anything at all.
“Sometimes he’d be gone for weeks at a time, and when he came back he wasn’t always in the best shape.” Sky winced at the memory. “One day we got the message that he was in the hospital, some sort of freak accident. He was in a coma for what felt like a hundred years. We were told that he might not pull through.”
Sky paused for a long moment, his eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet. Twilight resisted the urge to interrupt, waiting for whatever dark thoughts that had surfaced behind Sky’s eyes to pass.
“And in a way, he sort of... didn’t.” Sky met Twilight’s gaze again. “It wasn’t Champion that woke up, it was Wild. Different personality, different way of speaking, different everything. He didn’t remember very much of what had happened before the accident.” He sighed, shaking his head sadly. “He couldn’t cut it in the Guard after that and was discharged. Wars and I both left around the same time. So we all just packed our bags and headed out together, and… here we are.”
Twilight watched Sky carefully. “So the Wild that I… that we know isn’t actually who he is.”
“It’s not who he was,” Sky gestured helplessly, “but it is? He’s the same person deep down. Champion is just… more reserved, I guess. Not as outgoing.”
Twilight heaved a long sigh, pushing his fingers through his hair, grimacing at how gross it felt. Even if what Sky told him was confusing, it at least helped him feel a little less responsible for what had changed.
“Come on.” Sky nudged Twilight’s shoulder. “You’ll feel better after you shower, and let’s get you something to eat.”
Twilight allowed himself to be pried out of bed. He shuffled tiredly down the hallway behind Sky. “Champion might act a little different, but he’s the same person, still looks the same.” Sky continued, stopping in front of the bathroom door. “I think he’ll come around again soon.”
As Sky pushed open the bathroom door, both he and Twilight froze.
Champion stood at the bathroom sink wearing only sweatpants, a pair of scissors in hand. He leaned in toward the mirror, tilting his head this way and that. Long blonde locks covered the sink and the floor.
Champion’s reflection glanced at them from the mirror. “Hey,” he spoke in a tone so quiet Twilight hardly heard it, “Sky, can you even this out in the back?”
Chapter 6
Summary:
In which Wind gets a new computer, Warriors learns about palmistry, and the Fierce Deity makes a house call.
Notes:
A/N: Updated 12/6/21 mainly for line edits, but also rewrote the first (therapy) scene to fit better with the narrative.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“It was… terrifying.”
This was the most agitated Saria had seen her new client by far. Time sat slouched forward in the leather armchair, his elbows resting on his knees. He wrung his hands as his mind raced.
“I was worried they were hurt, that one of them was dead. I didn’t know what to think.” His fingers repeatedly brushed across the knuckles of his left hand, searching for something that hadn’t been there in years. “But this wasn’t like what happened in Termina. I couldn’t go in there and… and fix things.” Time winced, his gaze remaining far away. “I was useless.”
“I think that if you asked them, they wouldn’t say you were ‘useless’ that day.”
Although he didn’t lift his head, Time’s eye flicked up to Saria’s face. His eye was silently begging her to go on.
“You can’t protect the boys from everything, Link. You can’t wrap them up in a bubble and keep them safe from every little danger in the world.” Saria’s tea was cool by now and she frowned as she swirled it in the bottom of her mug. “And they’re going to get into trouble. They’re going to make mistakes. That’s why they need you.”
Time’s gaze returned to the carpet as he heaved a long, low, wavering sigh.
“The boys look up to you and they care about you, and you did exactly what they needed.” Saria’s voice softened around the edges as she reassured him, “You were there for them, and that’s the most you could have done.”
***
It had taken almost no time at all for Wind to come up with the information Time had requested from the accident. That evening, he knocked on the door to Time’s study, entering without waiting for an invitation. Time had been sitting with his head in his hands, staring at the closed folders strewn about on his desk, mired in thought. Wind cleared his throat softly before Time sat up, and Time accepted his tablet with a murmur of thanks.
The traffic camera footage was grainy with a slow frame-rate, but it still turned Time’s stomach to watch. Even though he knew what had happened, Hyrule’s clinical explanation of the accident was very different from seeing it for himself. His SUV had barely rolled into the frame before the other car purposely veered toward them. Time’s jaw flexed as he watched Wild — Champion? — tumble across the pavement, the SUV lurching out of the frame in the opposite direction. Another car screeched to a halt to avoid running him over.
All Time could gather about the other driver from the video, though, was that they had hopped out of their car immediately afterward, hesitated for a second, and ran.
“I can get you a better shot of the guy,” Wind said as he took his tablet from Time’s hands, preventing him from tormenting himself by watching the footage again and again. “There are probably other security cameras nearby, and there’s always idiots taking selfies. I’ll see what other shots I can get from the area, maybe I can track him that way.”
Time sat back in his chair, swallowing against the awful feeling in his stomach. “I appreciate you getting this done so quickly.”
“It’s nothing,” Wind replied, folding his tablet up under his arm. “Although I wish I could have gotten it done a little quicker. My setup is getting pretty old, y’know…”
Time glared at Wind in silence, but even the dark cloud that hovered over him wouldn’t dim the shrewd glint in Wind’s eye. Time sighed before digging his wallet out of his pocket and pulling out a credit card. “Here, I don’t care, just—”
“I already have the number.”
Time should have been more annoyed about that. “Just waiting for the right time to ask for permission?”
“Waiting until you’d give the go-ahead for overnight shipping.”
“Do it.” Time slid his card back into his wallet.
“The only other problem I have is where to install a new setup.”
“Is your room not big enough?”
“Not for what I want.” Wind nodded toward the back wall of the study. “Don’t you have some space up here I could use?”
Time narrowed his eye. “Let me see what I can do.”
Once Wind left, Time pried himself away from his desk. He wasn’t getting any work done tonight, anyway. He glanced at the clock, surprised at how late it was. With no one cooking for the whole house he had easily ignored dinner, and his stomach was beginning to protest his oversight.
The first floor was quiet and devoid of people. As he entered the kitchen, though, Time could hear the murmur of quiet voices somewhere nearby.
“…ny other changes at the castle?”
Out on the back porch, Warriors, Sky, and Champion sat on the steps. They watched the sky turn yellow and green and pink as the sun set far off behind the house.
“Nothing else out of the ordinary,” Sky replied. He paused to take a long swig from his drink. “Flora still asks about you. If you want me to pass anything along to her, I’d be happy to.”
Champion looked down abruptly, busying himself by picking at the label on his beer bottle. His drink was untouched while the others’ were nearly drained.
“Oh, don’t be coy,” Warriors grinned as he elbowed Champion in the ribs. “You two were never as slick as you thought you were.”
Time stepped away from the window as he heard Warriors’s laughter and Champion roughly shoving him away, grumbling something about a ‘one-track mind.’ Time knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but Champion had hardly said two words since coming back to the house. It was somewhat comforting to hear Wild’s voice, even in spite of the hurt.
“Is it safe here?” Champion quietly asked.
Time stopped in his tracks.
“Well, we haven’t had any trouble since Termina, really,” Warriors replied. “We’ve only been here two months, but so far so good.”
Champion hummed an affirmative sound. He kept his eyes on the sunset, lost in thought for several minutes.
“Am I happy here?”
Warriors and Sky shared a brief glance over Champion’s head. “We’re happy here,” Sky assured him, setting a hand on his shoulder, “and we’re glad you’re back. We really missed you, Champion.”
Champion’s smile was small but genuine.
Time didn’t know how to feel.
***
Twilight supposed that if he was going to get back to some sort of new normal, he should at least make an effort to try. The following morning, even though he couldn’t find the energy to work out, he still pushed himself out of bed at a reasonable time. He was moving on auto-pilot as he showered and brushed his teeth, as he lazily pushed some product through his hair. It wasn’t until he opened the bathroom door that his brain actually came online.
Champion looked just as surprised to see Twilight as he stood in the doorway, towel in hand. “Oh, sorry,” he spoke, his tone soft and flat.
“No, no,” Twilight’s voice was rough from disuse, “I’m done, it’s all yours.”
Twilight stepped to his right just as Champion stepped to the left, accidentally blocking his path. They both paused before stepping in the opposite direction, blocking the other’s path once again. Twilight let out an embarrassed little half-laugh; Champion’s face was completely unreadable.
Champion finally decided to step back out of the doorway entirely, averting his eyes as he waited for Twilight to pass. “S-Sorry,” Twilight stammered, awkwardly pulling his towel up a little higher as he crept across the hallway and back toward his room.
Twilight leaned against his bedroom door after shutting it, tilting his head back and letting it thump against the wood. New normal, he reminded himself, swallowing back a wave of sadness.
But as much as things change, things will also stay the same.
“I know you can do it.”
“No.”
“Come on, Leg, just read it!”
Twilight entered the kitchen to find Warriors heckling Legend from across the room. Legend grumbled something unintelligible as he poured himself a fresh mug of coffee. Warriors sat at the table, holding his hand out, palm-up. “Unless,” Warriors teased, “you’re ready to admit that palm-reading really is bullshit.”
“Palmistry is a practice that’s been around for centuries,” Legend replied coolly as he returned to the table, sitting across from Warriors. “It takes both study and skill to be able to read someone’s palm.”
“Sounds like he’s dodging the question.” Seated at the far end of the table, Wind was doing his best to egg them on.
Legend shot him a glare. “It takes study and skill that merits compensation,” he snapped before turning his eyes back to Warriors. “Ten rupees.”
Warriors balked. “Isn’t there a discount for friends?”
“For you? Twenty rupees.”
Twilight crossed to the pantry and grabbed a box of cereal at random, stepping past where Hyrule stood at the stove to get to the fridge.
“Good morning,” Hyrule greeted him as he pushed something around on a hot pan, “would you like some eggs? I made way more than I need.”
Twilight smiled politely, glancing down at Hyrule’s burned breakfast. He didn’t know eggs could turn that color. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.”
Once he had finished fixing his cereal, Twilight sat at one end of the table, a bit removed from his friends. He followed Warriors’s and Legend’s back-and-forth with his eyes, trying to smile for a little bit before just giving up.
“There,” Warriors huffed, setting down his phone as Legend’s chimed in his pocket. “Thirteen rupees, you shifty little bastard.” He smacked the back of his hand on the tabletop pointedly.
The kitchen hushed as Legend leaned forward a bit, appraising Warriors’s upturned palm. He traced two of the prominent lines therein and tilted War’s hand to appraise its topography before thoughtfully declaring, “It says you’re a bitch.”
Time barely reacted to the uproar at the table as he entered the kitchen, crossing toward the coffee pot. Twilight avoided eye contact with him, too preoccupied with pushing his spoon around in his soggy bowl of cereal. It must have been painfully obvious that Twilight wanted to be left alone; once Time had poured himself a mug of coffee, he settled in at the table next to Wind.
As he sat down, Time pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the tabletop. He turned his back to Wind just a bit as he opened his paper, pointedly ignoring the boys’ spirited discussion surrounding the metaphysical sciences. Wind continued to pester Warriors and Legend, keeping them riled up and busy, but Twilight didn’t miss when Wind surreptitiously took the phone Time had set down and replaced it with one from his own pocket.
Twilight set his spoon down in his bowl, waiting.
Time sat reading his paper quietly. After several minutes, he put the paper down and reached for the phone Wind had set out. Twilight watched as he entered the passcode and flipped through something on the screen, pausing only to take a long sip of coffee. His scrutiny was thorough.
Professional, even.
Twilight was staring at him so hard that Time must have felt it. Once Time lifted his eye, Twilight saw a flash of surprise, then regret in his gaze before he evened it out again.
When Time stood from the table, Twilight pushed his chair back, too.
“It was intentional, wasn’t it?”
The porch door slammed behind them as Twilight followed Time down the steps. Time didn’t stop, didn’t turn to acknowledge him, so Twilight jogged up to walk alongside him. “I saw you and Wind switch out your phones,” he continued. His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it was unmistakably angry. “I know you had asked him to look up something for you while we were at the hospital.”
When Time still didn’t respond, Twilight moved in front of him and stopped, standing in his way. Time at least had the decency to meet his eye. “I believe it was intentional,” he admitted with veiled reluctance.
“I want to help.”
Twilight’s voice was cold. For the first time since the accident, he didn’t feel numb anymore. He felt a volatile intensity roiling in his gut that lit up every nerve ending in his skin.
“I want to help,” he repeated.
His eyes said what his words didn’t: I want revenge.
“I’m sorry,” Time sighed, “you can’t help me with this.”
“But Wind can?”
“You can’t allow vengeance to fuel this sort of thing.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“To keep you safe.” There was an edge to Time’s words now, but he kept his voice low. “If you allow emotions to push you into these situations, you invite mistakes.”
“You can’t tell me—”
“Those mistakes can be fatal, Twilight.”
Twilight scowled at his shoes. He said nothing.
“I know that you’ve been through a lot, and I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now.” Time reached up to brush away the fairy that Twilight hadn’t realized was hovering near his shoulder. “But you still need to take time to rest. Once I have more information, if there’s something you boys need to know, I’ll tell you. We’ll talk more when I come home later, alright?”
Although Twilight reentered the kitchen silently, the others must have felt the frustration bleeding off of him judging by their brief lull in conversation. He grabbed his bowl from the table and stalked across the kitchen.
Champion stood near the sink, and he ignored Twilight’s abrupt approach. He was too busy cracking eggs into a glass one at a time. Twilight dumped his soggy breakfast down the drain, glancing at Champion out of the corner of his eye as he noisily ran the garbage disposal.
It was impossible not to stare as Champion downed four raw eggs in one gulp.
***
Time arrived at his office late in the morning. The blinds were open just enough to give his little potted plant some light, but otherwise the office was shuttered. He sat down heavily at his desk, frowning as something unpleasant wriggled in the back of his mind.
He just had the sinking feeling that he was missing something.
It had been well worth it to cave in to Wind’s demands. In just hours after Wind had moved into the room next to Time’s study with his new computer, Time had a handful of additional shots from around the accident scene. He pulled out his phone again and flipped through the collection of photos.
First, stills from a jeweler’s security camera showed the perpetrator fleeing down Second Street: Hylian, somewhat tall, dark hair, but moving so quickly that Time couldn’t make out much else about him. Next was a shot from someone’s Instagram: a selfie featuring an expensive-looking latte that was probably more sugar than caffeine. In the background, the same person was just past the jewelry store, turning down a side alley.
Time squinted at the photo, using two fingers to zoom in on the blurry face. Recognition flared and faded just as quickly in the back of his mind like the sensation of deja vu.
He chewed on the tip of his thumb as stormy thoughts rolled through his mind. The abrupt change in Wild, this person fleeing the site of the accident… Twilight’s anger that stung, even if Time knew it was misdirected… His argument with Warriors in the middle of the hospital hallway…
Time shut his eyes, pressing his thumbs into his brows. All of the upset back home was distracting him. He was too caught up worrying about how Twilight was handling all this, wondering what it was that had caused Warriors and Sky and Wi— and Champion to leave promising careers in the Royal Guard, worrying about whether the person who caused the accident was seeking to hurt them or to hurt him. It wouldn’t be the first time the boys had fallen victim to Time’s mistakes.
Time frowned, tamping down that thought. Guilt wasn’t going to help him get to the bottom of this.
Although…
Although he had put them in danger. More than once, even. The night Happy’s minions broke into his home and put the boys in the hospital the first time. That night at the club when the boys were out enjoying themselves, when they had to evacuate because Time and Dark were sent to murder someone…
…and broke down the door to an empty VIP room.
Time’s brow twitched.
He was missing something.
Time’s phone chirped as if on cue. Well well, speak of the devil.
D.L. - 10:55am
Sorry, theres no way i’m making it in today
Time - 10:55am
What’s your excuse this time?
D.L. - 10:56am
A little sore after my errand the other day
Time frowned at the screen.
Time - 10:57am
That reminds me.
What sort of progress did you make?
D.L. - 10:57am
You won’t be happy
Time - 10:57am
Just tell me.
D.L. - 10:58am
Well, I did what you told me to
I made it look like an accident
But I couldn’t finish the job
Time stared at the screen for a long while, swallowing the bile that crept up the back of his throat.
He glanced at the stack of manilla folders he’d shoved off to the side of his desk, his list of targets from Impa that Dark had callously referred to as ‘busy work.’ His fingers itched to open them, but something in the back of his mind screamed at him not to. He shouldn’t need to. He’d read the briefing before throwing it at Dark. Well, glanced at it. It wasn’t a warrant for anyone…
…whose name he recognized.
Time stared down at the top of his desk like he could burn a hole through it.
A simple task of tracking and elimination.
“There you are! You’re a terrible man to have kept me waiting.”
Time nearly jumped out of his skin as his office door creaked open. Ruto smiled at him as she entered, a long rolled-up paper in her hand. Of course. They were supposed to meet almost an hour ago.
“I’m so sorry, Ruto,” Time started, “but I’m a little busy—”
“Oh, this’ll just take a minute.” She leaned down in a way that was definitely purposeful as she unrolled the paper on top of his desk. “I wanted you to get a look at your window before we finalize the design!”
Time stared down at the sketch in front of him. It was a rendering of a stained glass window in the same style that decorated the throne room of Hyrule Castle. The Zora craftsmen really outdid themselves on the details. The brave hero featured in this particular illustration was missing an eye and had colorful arcs carved into his face.
“Isn’t it wonderful!?” Ruto beamed down at him. “We’re so happy to finally be giving you the recognition you deserve, Link. How does it feel to be a hero?”
Time stared at the sketch in silence for several seconds.
“…Link?”
He felt like he was going to be sick.
Time hoped that he had muttered some sort of apology as he grabbed his work bag and the stack of folders on top of his desk. He struggled to shove all of them into his bag as he stumbled out of his office, leaving Ruto behind. He couldn’t feel his feet as he staggered down the hall, and he leaned one hand against the wall to steady himself as he waited for the elevator. Once the doors slid shut behind him, Time dropped his bag on the floor, heavy with the details of the lives he was expected to end. He couldn’t breathe. He yanked on his tie and unbuttoned his collar, realizing that his back was damp with sweat, he couldn’t breathe, hurriedly unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, it was too hot, goddess he couldn’t strip in this damn elevator but he couldn’t fucking—
Time paused as he saw his own reflection in the metal elevator doors, pale and sweating and panicked. That flare of deja vu abruptly resurfaced as he stared.
I made it look like an accident.
Slowly, Time straightened up, setting his jaw as he began buttoning his cuffs again.
By the time the elevator doors reopened, Time was nicely put back together, his anger simmering just beneath the surface of a dangerous calm.
***
Wind laid upside-down on his bed, frowning into the screen precariously balanced above his face. “Damn it,” he whispered, wincing as the controllers vibrated in his hands and his character went careening off the edge of the screen.
His phone vibrated on the duvet next to him.
xX Cap-10Xx - 11:15am
wow you suck at this
LAN_lubber - 11:15am
stfu
its been a while since ive played
The knock at his door made him groan theatrically, loud enough to be sure he was heard on the other side. Wind tossed the console onto his bed as he hopped up, shoving his phone into his pocket.
When he opened the door, Wind swore he felt the chill coming off of Twilight as he loomed in the doorway. “What?”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Wind was already closing the door. “I don’t know what you’re talking abou—”
Twilight wedged his shoe in the corner of the doorway to keep it open. “Don’t play dumb.” Wind narrowed his eyes, pushing against his foot to no avail. Twilight shoved the door open just enough that he could slip inside. “Did the old man talk to you about the accident?”
Wind backed away across his room, putting the width of his bed between them. “No.”
“What did he ask you to look up?”
But Wind wasn’t going to answer. As Twilight advanced he dove across his bed, sliding off of the duvet and making for the door. If Twilight wasn’t so damn fast, he would have made it, too, but his cousin snagged him by the arm before he could escape.
“Wind.”
Wind turned, ready to bite back with a caustic retort, but something about the redness in Twilight’s eyes smothered his anger.
“Please,” Twilight whispered.
Wind huffed as he wrenched his arm out of Twilight’s grasp. “He wanted shots from the accident site, so I got him traffic camera footage and photographs around the intersection.”
Twilight blinked. “You can do that?”
Wind squared his shoulders, looking away haughtily. “For a fee.”
“How much?”
Wind looked Twilight up and down for a moment. “More than you probably have.”
Twilight scowled. Well, he couldn’t deny that. “He has you trying to figure out who hit us.”
Wind pressed his lips together. The two stood staring at one another for several seconds. He hadn’t spent much time in Twilight’s company since the accident, and this was the first time he appreciated that something about Twilight was… different. The longer they stared at one another, the thinner Wind’s resolve became.
Eventually, Wind huffed a defeated sigh as he turned toward his desk. “Y’know, I do have one photo I’d be willing to share. Honestly, I kind of want your opinion on it.”
Twilight followed close behind as Wind led him to his desk, pulling up his tablet. He kept the screen turned away from Twilight until he’d found the image he wanted.
It was a shot from the traffic camera footage, monochrome and grainy. Twilight was taken aback for a moment at the sight of the exposed belly of the SUV, at Wild sprawled facedown on the asphalt. But it was also a great shot of the car that had hit them and the person who got out of it.
Twilight pinched the screen to zoom in on the man’s face. “He looks kinda familiar,” Wind murmured, his desk chair creaking as he leaned back.
Twilight squinted. “He looks like the old man.”
“Okay, right?? That’s what I thought!”
The sound of a door closing out in the hallway drew Twilight’s attention. He glanced up just in time to see Champion walking past with a pack over his shoulder.
Twilight moved without thinking, letting the tablet drop into Wind’s lap as he made for the door. He stepped out into the hallway as Champion descended the stairs. “Hey,” he called, swallowing back his urgency. When Champion didn’t turn, he moved after him down the hall. “Are you headed out?”
No answer. It was like Champion hadn’t even heard him speak.
Twilight hurried down the stairs, catching up to Champion just as he was undoing all the locks on the front door. “Wild, wait, where are y—”
Champion turned quickly, and the angry look in his eye stopped Twilight dead in his tracks. It was the first time he’d seen any sort of emotion behind those eyes, even if his face remained blank.
“I am not him,” he hissed quietly.
Twilight set his jaw, standing tall and stiff as though he’d been slapped. They regarded one another coolly for several seconds before Champion turned back toward the door, hefting the strap of his heavy pack over his shoulder.
At the top of the stairs, Wind watched as Twilight followed Champion with his eyes - down the porch steps, out onto the sidewalk, down the street. He turned away as Twilight slowly pushed the door shut. Wind felt awkward for a moment, like he was spying on some private moment.
The sound of Twilight slamming his fist against the door made Wind jump.
***
Dark groaned as the pounding in his head woke him from a dead sleep. He rolled onto his stomach, glancing tiredly at the clock next to his bed. 2:34pm. His head was sore, his neck was sore, his entire body was sore. He pressed his face back into the pillow with a pathetic sound. Perhaps he shouldn’t have taken Time’s advice to ‘make it look like an accident’ so literally.
Dark’s ear flicked as that pounding sounded again. Oh, so that wasn’t just his head. He wondered how long he would need to ignore it before the problem went away on its own.
The apartment door rattled on its hinges from the force of whoever stood behind it. Another tired grumble sounded from beneath the covers before Dark was roughly nudged by someone’s foot. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, pushing himself up and out of bed. He fished around on the floor for something to make himself decent. “I’m coming!” he called out in a fake singsong voice, pulling on a pair of lounge pants that narrowly passed the smell test.
The knocking was becoming more insistent as Dark shuffled down the hallway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Look,” he spoke loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the door, “I know rent was due last week, I swear as soon as I get paid I’ll be down with it…”
As Dark unlocked the deadbolt, the door burst open in his face.
Dark stumbled backward as a leather briefcase smacked him directly in the forehead. Before he could recover, the Fierce Deity barrelled into him, shoving him down the short hallway and into the first solid object they encountered. Dark shouted as he was pinned to the kitchen cabinets, locking his hands around the Deity’s wrists as he struggled to wrench the man away from his throat.
“You’re a dead man!”
The Deity wrested one of his hands free and reached into his jacket. Dark flailed about blindly for the knife block on the counter. He was able to grab the handle of a butcher knife and swing for the Deity’s face just as he caught the flash of a folding knife coming toward his. Dark moved to block the Deity’s forearm with his own, locking them in a stalemate of strength. “What the fuck is the matter with you!!?”
A scuffle across the apartment drew their attention. Two scantily clad girls — one of whom Time recognized from their evening at the club together — stumbled out of what must have been Dark’s bedroom, clutching discarded clothing and high-heeled shoes to their chests.
“No, no nonono— Roxie, Candy, wait!” Dark nearly whined, watching them fleeing toward the doorway. “Don’t go!!”
“For the last time, my name is Sandy!” Dark and the Deity both winced as they slammed the door behind them.
“Alright, asshole,” Dark snarled up into the Fierce Deity’s face. He wedged one of his legs up between them to kick into the Deity’s stomach hard, shoving him back across the kitchen. “What’s your problem today?”
The Deity caught himself quickly and charged forward again. He ducked as Dark hurled the butcher knife toward his face, and the blade made a heavy sound as it embedded into the drywall behind him. Dark dove out of the way of the Deity’s strike, his eyes widening as the blade left a long gash in the cheap formica countertop.
As he straightened up, the Deity flung his blade in Dark’s direction, and Dark barely deflected it with a dirty plate snatched from the countertop. “How dare you go after my family!” He hefted one of the bar stools off of the floor, swinging for Dark as he backed away across the tiny kitchen.
“What are you talking about!?” Dark ducked as chair legs whistled through the air over his head. The next swing was also easily avoided, but it noisily cleared all the dishware off of the countertop. Dark cursed aloud, backing out of the kitchen as dishes and glassware shattered at his bare feet.
“Playing stupid will earn you no mercy.” The Deity threw the stool across the kitchen, missing Dark by centimeters. The kitchen door frame cracked on impact. “Who are you working for?” he snarled, shards of glass crunching beneath his shoes as he advanced with heavy footfalls.
“I’m working for you!” As the Fierce Deity entered the living room, Dark sprang toward him brandishing a floor lamp. It was thin and light, and the Deity’s head snapped to the left as Dark’s swing connected. It did absolutely nothing to slow him down.
“Liar!!” The Deity grabbed the end of the lamp, shoving it back into Dark’s chest. On a good day, they would have been evenly matched in strength, but so far this wasn’t a very good day for Dark. He grunted as he tripped over the short coffee table, toppling backward over it. “I knew that you would look for the first opportunity to run right back to the Dragmires!”
“Why the fuck would I do that!!?” Dark set his feet beneath the edge of the coffee table and heaved, upending it right into the Deity’s face. The Deity stumbled backward, catching himself against a doorframe, but his misstep gave Dark an opening. Iron sang as a crowbar connected with the Deity’s chest, sending him staggering back into the tiny bedroom.
Dark advanced swiftly now, and the Deity tripped over discarded clothing and shoes as he dodged every swipe from the sharp end of the crowbar. When his shins hit the edge of the bed, he made a desperate attempt to lunge forward, but Dark was faster. He grabbed the Deity’s arm and wrenched it backward. The Deity felt the cool kiss of metal against his wrist before a series of clicks secured him to the headboard.
Dark ducked out of the Fierce Deity’s reach without a second to spare. The Deity lunged toward him with his free arm outstretched, causing the bed frame to scrape across the floor. “Hey, hey!” Dark brandished his weapon threateningly even as he continued to back away. “You’ve done enough redecorating, asshole!”
The Fierce Deity advanced until the bed frame got stuck wedged against Dark’s bureau. The two stared at each other for several seconds, the Deity braced for the inevitable, but Dark made no move to strike. Once he came to terms with the fact that Dark wasn’t intending to bludgeon him to death, Time gradually began coming back to himself. He slowly sank down to sit on the bed, breathing heavily as the adrenaline wore off.
“You with me?” Dark asked between panting breaths, maintaining his tight grip on his weapon.
Time hung his head for a moment before nodding.
The crowbar made a heavy sound as it dropped to the bedroom floor. “Don’t you dare blame this on me,” Dark grumbled, turning away to rifle through the mess on top of his dresser. “I was just doing as I was told because I thought I was playing by your rules. I don’t give a shit what side of this you’re on! I just want to be treated like a fucking person again, that’s it!”
Dark finally found the folder he was looking for and he carelessly slung it in Time’s direction. Some of the papers scattered across the bed as it landed. Time went to retrieve them, reaching first for the photograph.
Recognition nearly made his heart stop.
It was no wonder he didn’t realize it was Wild at first. He looked determined all decked out in the regal reds and blues of the Royal Guard, even if his dress uniform almost looked a bit big on him. His long blonde hair was pulled back to reveal a face not yet scarred by Time’s mistakes and a pair of blue eyes that should have been bright and smiling, but were instead vacant and blank.
Time set the folder in his lap, his hand shaking as he slowly leafed through its contents. The first page was familiar:
Objective: Tracking and elimination
Priority 2, Moderate Risk
Name: Link of Hateno, “Champion”
Former Royal Guard soldier
Unit: Confidential
Specialty: Close combat, weapons expert
The pages that followed the mission brief contained stellar personnel evaluations, startling reports of sabotage, medical records detailing horrific injury, and damning psychiatric evaluations.
Dark stood over him as Time continued to leaf through the details. “I thought that you giving me that assignment was your way of telling me that you’d switched sides. It’s not my fault you didn’t even read it.”
Time slowly looked up toward Dark, stunned. His thoughts swirled around him, drowning him. “ Impa was the one to give me this target. She gave me a whole stack of them. But there’s no way she wouldn’t have known—”
“Are you sure that’s really Impa?” Dark sneered. “I tried to tell you the first day we talked. Ganon has an in. He has an informant, probably multiple informants, at the castle. It’s something the Dragmires have been working on for years now. The Sheikah Guard is full of Yiga spies. Those bastards can look like whoever they want: like you, like me, like Zelda herself. I can’t even tell when one of them is faking it.”
Time slumped where he sat, his gaze far away as his brain worked to put all the pieces into place.
Plant informants and spies among the staff and guard of the royal family.
Bring in a new face, an outsider to the Royal Guard, and give him the task of eliminating false traitors. Ganon probably meant to frame him as a traitor as well.
Is Impa still alive? Is she actually a member of the Yiga?
Who else isn’t who they seem?
Is this why the boys left the Guard in the first place?
The boys…
“Get this off of me,” Time ordered suddenly, sitting up tall as he pulled on his handcuff. “I have to check something.”
“Tell you what!” Dark grinned as he propped his foot up on the bed. He yanked up the leg of his pants to expose the chunky plastic cuff on his ankle. “I’ll trade you.”
Time glowered up at him, stubborn and unmoving. “You have yet to prove to me that—”
“Listen,” Dark bared his teeth as he leaned in much closer than any sane person would dare. “I know you’ve been expecting me to stab you in the back this entire fucking time, and I know nothing I say or do will convince you otherwise. But what makes you think I’d subject myself to that family of psychopaths again, huh? You think I’m that fucking stupid?? You know, you’re not the only one who was affected by Ganondorf’s power-hungry bullshit.” Deep resentment burned in Dark’s eyes as he stared fearlessly into Time’s. “Not all of us had the luxury of making ‘good decisions’ like you did, Link. You had the good fortune of getting picked up by Great Deku and being funneled into the role of the ‘hero.’ But not everyone gets to be that lucky. Some of us get picked up by the ‘bad guys,’ and we have even less of a choice in the matter than you did.
“Do you think I always looked like this,” he went on, “that I was born looking like this??” Time tilted his face away slightly as Dark leaned in further, lifting his chin. From this angle, he could appreciate the pale lines beneath Dark’s nostrils and at the point of his chin.
Scars.
“I hate having your fucking nose,” Dark spat, finally backing off.
They held each other’s fiery gaze for several tense seconds before Time acquiesced. “Don’t make me regret this,” he grumbled, opening the small plastic door on the side of the ankle bracelet’s transmitter. The tiny buttons beeped as he entered a six-digit code, and it chimed three times before the light went out for good. “Who do we need to worry about?”
“Everyone.” The bracelet couldn’t weigh more than a pound, but Dark felt like he’d been relieved of twenty as he pulled it off of his ankle. “A few of them have approached me, from guardsmen to maids. They are literally everywhere.”
Time stared off into the middle distance. The anger that simmered beneath the surface drew his face into an ugly snarl. “Ganon set me up to kill one of my own,” he murmured.
“Hey, at least this is how you found out.” Once Dark had located the small metal key in his mess, he deftly undid Time’s cuff. “Imagine if he gave the job to someone else.”
Time felt hot rage welling in his chest.
But as Dark stepped into his line of sight, Time slowly lifted his eye. Dark’s tone was resigned as he held out a hand to help Time up. “Looks like you and me are all we’ve got now.”
Notes:
Do you like comfy t-shirts? Maybe hoodies? Do you wish YOU got to go to the Lunar Cycle Festival and see all the shenanigans go down in the first story of HSH? Ever wanted to own a bit of fanfic merch?
If you’ve answered “YES” to any of the above, then check out Aiden’s fantastic t-shirt design and maybe get one for yourself! They’re super soft and comfortable, and if I see you wearing it out in public we are automatically friends. And because I can’t figure out how to embed a link, you get to copypaste the address:
https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/21971653-i-survived-the-lunar-cycle-edm-festival?store_id=795481
Chapter 7
Summary:
In which Time pulls an all-nighter, Warriors plays a game, and Twilight and Champion go for a ride.
Notes:
I am never buying a house in the middle of writing a longfic ever again, ever.
While I read back through the story to refresh my memory on all the goings-on, I made some small line changes here and there that have no major impact on the main storyline, just an FYI. I also added a cute little scene with Malon in chapter 3, and I've re-structured the therapy scenes at the beginning of each chapter to keep them going just a little longer.
Happy reading!
Chapter Text
“This line of work tends to take a lot out of you.”
Time sat slouched low in the leather armchair during this session. He looked like he hadn’t slept well, his face drawn and pale. He didn’t bother making eye contact today, either.
“It takes a lot of time,” he continued, “of energy… dignity, some days…” He waved one hand as though he was waving away a waiter offering to refill his wine. “Relationships. Family. Life. It just… takes everything. Chews you up, spits you out, waits for you to pick up the pieces and get back to it again.”
Saria set down her travel mug quietly. Her tea had long gone cold as she’d sat listening without taking a single sip. “Have you considered doing something less demanding for a living?”
It was the obvious question. Time huffed a humorless laugh at her choice of words.“I’ve thought about it. Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But there’s no way. I can’t stop doing my job.” He closed his eye, taking a moment to tiredly scrub his face with his hands. “I have to do it. Because if I—”
Time paused, setting his hands back in his lap for a moment as he searched for the right word. Now, worry and resignation softened the edges of his voice.
“If I don’t do this, someone else will.”
***
After spending several days doing almost nothing but sleeping, Twilight’s body had apparently had enough of that. Sleep evaded him throughout the night as he lay helpless in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The ticking of the clock on his wall became so stressful that at one point, he got up to rip the battery right out of it. But eventually, as the sky started becoming warm with the promise of sunrise, he decided to just give in and get up early. His morning routine was one of the things he used to really enjoy; maybe returning to that would help him feel better.
He stubbornly stumbled around in the dark trying to piece together a reasonable outfit and snuck down the hallway to splash some cold water on his face. The stairs didn’t creak once beneath his shoes. He spent several minutes stretching on the front porch and jogging in place to warm up as he waited for his running partner to join him.
By the time the sun hit the stone facade of the townhouse above him, Twilight realized that Time wasn’t coming.
Loneliness soured his mood as he rounded Sanidin Park by himself, chasing fairies off of his path. For several days following the accident, he had been hard-pressed to want to get out of bed, let alone talk to anyone. He was sick of feeling sick. So Twilight pounded the pavement harder and faster than he normally would have, pushing himself to feel better. He timed his breathing to his footfalls, trying to force himself into the meditative headspace of running.
In, in, out, out…
Over the past few days, he had ignored more messages from Midna than he cared to count. He had called in sick for a couple shifts at Telma’s Bar, too, which was something that settled very poorly with his work ethic.
In, in, out, out…
The fact that Time thought the accident had been intentional, that someone would have purposely veered into that intersection to hurt him and his friends, made Twilight seethe. What he wouldn’t give to get his hands on the person responsible for his heartache.
In, in, out…
But there was nothing he could do. Time’s absence from their morning jog underscored what Twilight assumed was his unwillingness to talk about anything, even if that information might keep him and the others safe. Twilight was just as helpless as usual.
In out in…
And it was too late, wasn’t it? Wild was gone. Even if Champion was as nice a guy as Sky claimed he was, he wasn’t the same person. He didn’t have the same easygoing personality, the same tone of voice, the same effortless ability to make people smile. Although Twilight was reminded of Wild each and every time he saw Champion, his friend was gone.
In-out-in-out…
It was hard to lose a friend.
Eventually, Twilight had to stop. He stepped off of the path, bending down to brace himself on his knees. His breath burned in his throat and he grimaced as he swallowed against the sensation. Sweat and frustration ran down his face, dripping from the ends of his hair, as he worked hard to catch his breath.
On the far horizon, Hyrule Castle leered down at him, unmoving and impassive. How many secrets were hidden behind those high walls?
Enough that Time continued to keep things from him and from the rest of the house, despite all they’d been through together.
Enough that not one but three of his friends had kept so much of themselves from him for so long.
Enough that he’d lost one of his friends entirely.
***
As the warmth of the morning sun began to creep across his face, Dark stirred. He groaned as he turned away from the window, his neck popping loudly as he did. Falling asleep sitting up always made him awfully stiff. So he started to slide down to lay across the couch instead—
Until his face smushed up against something solid and warm.
Dark inhaled sharply as he startled, sitting up straight and tall. Time barely reacted to the contact. He sat slouched forward on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped over his mouth.
Dark sighed as he rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. “Did you sleep at all?”
Time grunted a negative sound into his hands.
“Alright,” he pushed himself off of the couch, “coffee?”
“Yeah.” Time sat up straighter and stretched with a groan. On the table in front of him, he’d pulled apart the folders that Impa had given to him, spreading their contents messily across its surface. Throughout the night, he had oscillated between shock and disbelief and deep, inconsolable rage as he pored over each file, trying to put the pieces together. Finally, hours after Dark had fallen asleep on him and the sun had started to rise, he had settled on numbness.
Even if Sky wasn’t smiling in his official photo, his eyes were always bright and cheerful.
Objective: Tracking and elimination
Priority 2, Moderate-High Risk
Name: Link of Skyloft, “Sky,” callsign “Godkiller”
Former Royal Guard soldier
Unit: Airborne - Loftwing
Specialty: Aerial combat
Warriors’s features were sharp in his portrait, his face drawn in a way that made Time uneasy.
Objective: Tracking and elimination
Priority 2, High Flight Risk
Name: Link of Castleton, “Warriors”
Former Royal Guard soldier
Unit: Domestic guard, combat reserve
Specialty: Strategy - Mass casualty
“Fresh out of mugs,” Dark mumbled as he set a ceramic bowl of coffee on the table next to Time.
Time tiredly sighed into his hands. “I will replace all the dishware I destroyed.”
“N’ah, that’s just what I get for letting dirty dishes pile up.” Dark thumped down on the couch roughly. “So, what have we learned?”
Time sat back, gesturing broadly at the tabletop. “The majority of the targets Impa gave me are either currently or previously affiliated with the Royal Guard, some with the Sheikah Research Unit. The accusations are all the same: treason, conspiring with enemies of the crown, and so on. Of the few that I know personally,” his fingertips lingered at the edge of Sky’s photo, “I don’t believe a word in their files. If anything, I expect that these boys were the most loyal soldiers in the Guard.”
“Well that’s why Ganon would want them gone,” Dark supplied, trying to sip casually from his coffee bowl. “If he’s been sending in his own minions to staff the castle guard, serving alongside hardcore loyalists might make their job a bit harder.”
Time glowered down at the faces of his three boys all lined up along the table. “They left the guard shortly before they ended up in my house and I’ve never gotten a clear answer as to why. At least one story,” he tapped Sky’s photo, “doesn’t add up. The other,” he straightened Warriors’s photo, “I know very little about, but it seems like a sore subject.
“And then there’s him.” Time eye was distinctly sad as he frowned down at Champion’s photo. It was hard to believe that somewhere within this stoic young soldier was the same sweet person who used to shriek for someone else to kill spiders for him. “When he woke up after the accident, he wouldn’t let anyone near him. He recognized the other two from the Guard and has been distant from everyone else. I know next to nothing about him.”
Dark probably could have recited Champion’s file from memory, but he grabbed it to leaf through a few pages. “Let’s see, we’ve got plotting against the crown — okay but everyone gets that one — divulging confidential information to hostile parties, undermining his superiors, stealing equipment, and sabotaging major components of their new Sheikah defensive infrastructure.” He squinted at Champion’s photo. “He seems a bit scrawny for all that, don’t you think?”
“You forget that we were scrawny kids once, too, and that never held us back.”
Dark couldn’t deny that. He finally gave up on struggling with his coffee bowl, setting it on the floor to avoid staining their papers. “His is the only file that lists ‘sabotage’ as a charge, although all the details are confidential, like everything else in his damn paperwork.” Dark tilted Champion’s photo to face him. “We hardly get anything more than his name.”
Time felt his eye beginning to twitch.
“Think he did it?”
“I can’t say,” Time leaned over to slide the boys’ photos just out of Dark’s reach, “and I’ve hit a wall when it comes to getting information from them directly. As much as I hate to do so, I’ll need to start doing some internal research.”
Dark didn’t miss how Time kept his gaze very carefully trained on the boys’ faces. Like he didn’t want to look away. “And we can’t stop actively tailing them, either,” Dark reminded him carefully.
Time stared dead ahead. He didn’t outwardly react.
“If we aren’t actively trying to ‘neutralize’, them,” Dark murmured, “someone else might step in.”
The wrinkle in Time’s brow demonstrated his worry. He felt like he was going to be sick.
“Think of it like a protection detail,” Dark offered, sinking back into the ratty cushions and tilting his head toward the ceiling. “I’ll tail them to make sure that no one else is. And, in the unlikely event they start to cause trouble, I’ll do what I can to minimize the fallout.”
Time turned to stare at Dark in silence for several seconds. His gaze wandered around the apartment to the shattered lamp, the remnants of dishware still scattered across the kitchen floor, the dent in the doorframe and the butcher knife embedded just above it. “You have no reason to do this,” he replied flatly.
“Oh, we’re already even for this little mess.” Dark set his foot on the edge of the coffee table, wrinkling a few papers as he demonstrated his bare right ankle. “And if you think this is the worst an angry employer has done to me, boy do I have stories that would curl your hair.”
Time wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.
“Besides,” Dark stood from the couch to stretch and loudly yawn, “I owe you one, too.”
Time narrowed his eye. “What for?”
Dark was already walking away as he replied, “Collateral damage.”
***
By the time the afternoon rolled around, Twilight was still simmering as he sped through the streets of Castle Town toward Telma’s Bar. It was hard to convince himself to leave the house and he was easily running ten minutes late. Epona grumbled beneath him as he took some of his aggression out on the throttle.
As streetlights and busy intersections whizzed past, Twilight was barely paying attention. He was just running circles in his own head. What in the goddess’s name was he going to tell Telma about all of this? Sorry, your cook hit his head and now he’s a completely different person, I’m not sure he’ll be coming back to work. How was she going to react? He didn’t know Telma all that well, but he couldn’t imagine anyone believing him if he told them the truth.
Twilight veered off of the road into the alley behind the bar. As he rolled up toward his usual parking spot, though, he found that it was already taken.
The bike was unlike anything he’d seen before on the road or in a showroom. A warm orange light glowed between the seams of armored plates layered along its body, and the metal glimmered in the low light. The front cowl was heavily stylized, arching up and forward at a dramatic angle, and the headlights were mounted to a piece that turned back toward the body, almost like a… like a head? If Twilight didn’t know any better, he’d swear the bike was supposed to look like a damn horse.
Twilight kept his eyes on the bike as he stood on the stoop, knocking blindly at the heavy metal door to the bar. As it creaked open, he started talking before turning. “Miss Telma, whose bike is—”
“It’s mine.”
Twilight turned to find Champion quietly staring up at him.
“You’re late.” Champion stepped to the side, holding the door for Twilight to pass through.
“Yeah yeah,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact as he brushed past Champion. The back hallway was very poorly lit, and once Champion closed the door Twilight had to blindly grope along the wall for the peg to hang his jacket. He followed the sound of Champion’s footsteps toward the back of the house. “I didn’t think you’d be showing up today,” he murmured.
Champion shrugged. “It was on my calendar.”
Twilight frowned. “When did you get a motorbike?”
“I’ve always had one.”
He narrowed his eyes at the back of Champion’s head. “Yeah?”
“I forgot where I parked it.” Champion’s delivery was flat, and Twilight’s wasn’t quite sure whether he was joking or not.
It was a bit brighter in the hallway just behind the bar, and as Champion turned to enter the kitchen, Twilight got his first good look at his face. A fresh bruise flourished on his cheek and there was a sizable scrape along the right side of his jaw. Before he could think better of it, Twilight had reached to grab his arm. “Hey, what on earth—”
Champion jerked out of his grip and backed away, just out of reach. His glare was quietly dangerous. “What?”
“What the hell happened to your face?” Twilight asked, his tone hardened by worry.
“Nothing.” Champion continued to retreat across the kitchen, putting the length of a prep table between them as he watched Twilight like a wary animal.
“Everything alright, boys?”
Twilight turned to find Telma approaching them. She looked between Twilight and Champion with an arched brow, clearly unamused.
“Yes,” Twilight sighed, backing out of the kitchen. “Hello, Miss Telma.”
“How you feelin’, Pumpkin?”
“Better, thank you.” Twilight smiled weakly as he approached the door to the barroom, snagging an apron hanging on the wall.
“Well I don’t believe that for a second.”
When Twilight turned to look up at her, Telma was appraising him with motherly concern in her eye. “Order up,” Champion called from the kitchen, roughly setting a plate in the window. Twilight stepped past her with a quick apology, eager for any excuse to escape her shrewd gaze. He took the plate — twelve undressed mozzarella sticks with a plastic cup of cold marinara sauce — and ducked out into the barroom to begin his shift.
***
When Time returned to the townhouse later that day, the first floor was relatively quiet. Legend and Wind were busy playing video games and he could hear metal clinking in the gym downstairs. He was grateful that the boys were distracted; he wasn’t sure he could face any of them right now if he tried. His briefcase felt heavy as he trudged up to the third floor to lock away the damning files in his desk and take a long, hot shower just so he could think.
But when he opened the door to his study, Time hadn’t expected to find Warriors there waiting for him, lounging with a book in hand and his feet up on the coffee table. So much for peace and quiet.
“Warriors,” Time gruffly addressed him, barely making eye contact as he crossed his study.
“Welcome home.” Wars snapped his book shut as he sat up properly on the couch. “You seem a bit more surly than usual.”
“Yes, well I’ve had a few things going on at home,” Time grumbled, setting his bag down at his desk.
“Is that why you’ve been spending so much time at the office?”
When Time turned to meet his eye, Warriors looked honestly concerned for him. He knew that Time hadn’t come home last night. They held each other’s gaze for several seconds before Time was the first to look away. “Work has been demanding,” he quietly admitted.
“Well, why don’t you come sit a while and we can take your mind off of it?”
Time bit the inside of his cheek as Warriors stood from the couch and wandered toward his bookshelves. On one hand, he wanted to be left alone to stew over the information he’d learned that day and come up with a solid plan for moving forward. On the other hand, perhaps taking his mind off of work for a little while was the right thing to do. Warriors dawdled for a minute or two, walking slowly down the length of the wall, before pulling out a handsome wooden box that Time had tucked away in plain sight. “Here, I’ve been eyeing this set for a while but no one else likes to play.”
The top of the box was inlaid with sixty-four squares of mother-of-pearl in alternating black and white, and the lacquered wooden sides were tooled in fine patterns of scales and waves and seashells. “Zora-made?” Warriors questioned as he set the chess board on the coffee table. “Not really your aesthetic.”
“It was a gift.” Time begrudgingly pulled one of his armchairs around to the other side of the table, settling in stiffly as Warriors began setting up.
Once all the delicately-carved pieces were in place, Warriors turned the board so that his his bone white pieces glared down at Time from the opposite side of the table. “Age before beauty,” Warriors teased as he sat back on the couch.
Time gave him a sour look, but he took some comfort in the fact that Warriors was being his usual, flippant self. Perhaps he was finally over the little spat they had the other morning. “So,” he began as he selected a pawn to advance, “what have I missed while I was away?”
“Relatively little.” Warriors advanced a pawn of his own. “Although Twilight and Champion are having a hard time adjusting to one another.”
“Oh?” Time carefully kept his eye on Warriors’s face.
“Champion is much more reserved than Wild ever was.” Warriors sat back, holding Time’s gaze evenly. “He’s just a very private person. He misinterprets Twilight’s friendly concern as being nosy, but I think they’ll work it out.”
Time hummed a thoughtful sound as he sat back and surveyed the board, reaching for his next piece to move.
“What about you, old man? Are you getting along well with everyone at the castle?”
Time paused, glancing up to find Warriors slouched back on the couch casually, ankle crossed over opposite knee, smiling as genially as can be.
So it was going to be this kind of game.
“As well as I can.” Time moved another pawn, only one space this time. “I’ve had a bit of friction with some coworkers as of late. Some of us have very different goals, and not everyone is forthcoming with their intentions.”
He saw just the subtlest twitch of Warriors’s brow before Wars returned his attention to the chess board. “Seems that’s something that hasn’t changed since our Guard days.”
“Seems it hasn’t.”
They each took a turn in silence, moving their pawns out into the open and freeing up their back line. Eventually, Time was the next to speak. “I’m sure that working under those conditions was uncomfortable, to say the least.” Warriors’s eyes were a bit cautious as he met Time’s gaze, but Time looked away as he shrugged. “I find it trying in my position, but if I had superiors to give me orders that clashed with my ideals, that would be even more stressful.”
Warriors advanced one of his pawns without paying much attention. “It’s enough to make one rethink the trajectory of their life,” he admitted.
Time was the first to draw blood, capturing War’s reckless pawn with ease. “I imagine so.”
They both lapsed into thoughtful silence as Warriors contemplated his next move. Eventually, he reached forward to advance his rook, aligning it to take Time’s knight. “You must hold a high position in the Guard, not having any superiors to clash with.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Time was quick to reposition said knight. “Besides, my position isn’t quite official yet.”
“Isn’t it? They’ve certainly been running you ragged regardless.” Warriors’s bishop was quick to chase after its target. “Although the thirty-fifth anniversary gala is just around the corner, and I’m sure it’s a logistical nightmare.”
The gala. Time and Dark had mentioned it in passing but with all the other things they were working on, Time hadn’t had a moment to consider all the ways Ganon’s influence could make that go wrong. “I wouldn’t know,” he replied absently as he moved his knight from the line of fire once again, “I’m not on the security detail for the event.”
“But you’re going, aren’t you?”
“I have to,” Time muttered, “Lullaby would kill me if I missed the opening ceremony.”
“Ah, yes,” Warriors sighed, appraising the board, “all the useless pomp and circumstance, all the superfluous dedications and blessings, and the announcement of her new Appointed Knight.”
Time’s gaze snapped up to meet Warriors’s just too quick, and he watched War’s eyes widen ever so slightly as something in Time’s face confirmed his suspicions. Shit.
“Well!” Warriors smiled as his own knight danced across a line of pawns to capture Time’s. “Congratulations, Time. That’s a very high honor.”
“Thank you.” Time managed to sound calm and humble even as his pulse thrummed in his wrists. “I’d prefer it if the others didn’t know just yet, of course.”
“Of course.”
They lapsed into silence again as Time stared at the board, putting his focus into deciding upon his next move. Warriors looked distinctly self-satisfied as he sank back into the couch cushions.
“So, correct me if I’m wrong,” Time moved a lowly pawn forward just one space, “Sky told me that he was a member of the Loftwings when he was in the Guard. You aren’t a pilot, though, are you?”
“I got the impression the other day that you already know that answer.” Warriors’s smile was just a bit venomous as he took another one of Time’s pawns for himself. “Why don’t you tell me what you know and I can fill in the blanks for you.”
Alright. Time took a moment to sit back and consider. “Well, I know that the three of you went through boot camp together. I imagine you were no less high-achieving than your friend.”
Warriors sniffed as his sharp eyes followed Time’s slow advance across the board. “Hardly. I was in the combat reserves,” he admitted, “but mainly I spent my days loafing about on castle duty. It was dreadful.” Wars reached forward slowly to reposition his bishop. “That’s why I jumped at the chance to help with the Yiga assignment, but once that was over it was back to the daily droll.”
Time nodded slowly as he pondered the board. “And I’m sure Champion was just as accomplished, too.”
Warrior’s brows twitched upward for a fraction of a second. “Champion was…” He drawled the words as he thought. “He was a better soldier than either you or I could ever hope to be.”
Time repositioned his knight benignly, lingering close but still in no position to capture anything. “Did he come from a family of knights?”
“No, he’s from some little backwater village way out to the east.” Warriors stared at the board as he talked, but Time got the feeling that he wasn’t really thinking about their game. “He never talked about home very much. It was like he just showed up one day to register for the Guard with his backpack and nothing else, and then he wiped the floor with all of us at boot camp.”
“He must have been a member of the Loftwings too, right?”
“No, he was…”
Warriors stopped himself, his fingers lingering just above his bishop before he rethought his move, opting to sidestep across the board with his rook and align it with Time’s remaining knight. “He was drafted for a special project after we graduated. He wasn’t allowed to share anything about it with us, so I don’t officially know what it was that he did.”
Time’s knight danced out of the line of fire, taking a pearlescent pawn with it. “But unofficially?”
“Unofficially,” Warriors smirked at Time’s word choice, “I knew that he was involved in some R&D for the Sheikah research unit.”
“And that’s how he got hurt.”
Warriors’s eyes were cold as he stared at Time over the board.
“That’s what you said,” Time reminded him, “when he woke up at the hospital.”
Warriors’s gaze returned to the board as he started to roll up the cuffs of his sleeves. “There was an accident,” he spoke lowly as his knight retreated just a bit, “something really catastrophic that happened. He was in a coma, and when he woke up he didn’t remember a thing. So he had to be discharged from the Guard.”
“And the three of you left around the same time.” It was one of Time’s pawns that surprised Warriors this time, taking out his unattended knight with ease.
“We did,” Warriors admitted. He leaned forward just a bit, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied the board. Time could feel Warriors’s ire rising, so he opted to back off of him for the time being.
It was a few silent minutes before Warriors straightened up, reaching forward to advance again. “You know, I’m a bit surprised to hear that you’re going to be the next Appointed Knight,” he commented, his queen advancing on the field.
“Oh?” Time opted to reposition his rook defensively.
“Well, the Knight has several duties in the Guard. Many of which — no offense — I don’t think you’re strictly qualified for.”
Warriors’s tone was more serious than Time was expecting, and his brow twitched as the white queen approached his front line.
“You’ve never served, yourself.”
Oh, shit. Time had been too distracted to realize the corner Warriors had backed him into, and he sighed as he opted to sacrifice one of his remaining pawns in lieu of a rook.
“You haven’t worked your way up the chain of command and, correct me if I’m wrong, you have no training as an officer.”
The moves were coming rapid-fire now, and Time’s second knight was quick to fall to Warriors’s ruthless approach.
“In fact, the only thing that does qualify you for the position is your particular line of work, isn’t it? The Knights are known for snuffing out all sorts of problems with discretion and tact, especially those that come from within the ranks.”
Warriors slid the white queen into place near the edge of the board. One more move and he would be set up to win the game.
“And you’ve been asking an awful lot of questions about three ex ‘problems’ of the Guard.”
Time paused for a moment to sit back in his chair, pinned as much by Warriors’s surprisingly cold stare as his king was by a surrounding arc of valiant pearly figures. His eye traced the paths that he could choose: to vanquish one of War’s knights and be in position to take the other, or to force his hand by driving forward to pin down Warriors’s own king in return.
Instead, he held War’s gaze for several seconds like a magician showing his hand before he reached for the black queen. He repositioned her to meet Warriors’s queen head-on, an outwardly bold move but a sacrificial play that set him up for failure.
“There are a lot of things I can’t control in my position.” Time spoke lowly, his tone somewhere between a reassurance and a warning. “But make no mistake, anyone who considers you boys a ‘problem’ will have a much bigger issue on their hands with me.”
***
By the time he was finished with his shift at the bar, Twilight was feeling slightly less angry, mainly just tired. He took his time wiping off the bartop, scrubbing at the more stubborn stains along its surface. From inside the kitchen, he could hear the clanging of pots and pans as Champion cleaned up his own mess.
“So what’s got you down?” Telma sighed at the relief of getting off of her feet as she slid onto a stool across the bar from Twilight, settling in with her accounting pad and the cash drawer. “Relationship trouble?”
Twilight paused as he met her eye, and Telma subtly inclined her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Yeah,” he answered carefully, moving closer toward her to finishing drying the remaining bar glasses, “you could say that.”
“Why don’t you tell me all about it, Pumpkin.”
Twilight chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment as he scrubbed the smudges off of a pint glass. “Well, someone that I care about doesn’t seem to be very interested in me anymore.”
“Oh?”
“No.” He held the glass up to the light, checking for more prints, looking for any excuse to avoid eye contact. “We used to be close, but something changed in their life, and… now it’s like they’re a different person entirely.”
“And you mustn’t be interested in them anymore, either, now that they’ve changed.”
Twilight stared at the glass in his hand for several silent seconds. “Just because they’ve changed doesn’t mean that I don’t care about them anymore,” he admitted quietly. “But they just don’t want to have anything to do with me.”
Telma hummed sympathetically, scratching some numbers down on her tally sheet. “And how does that make you feel?”
Twilight wrinkled his nose. This felt like therapy. But once the weird feeling faded, he allowed himself to seriously consider her question. “Angry. Hurt. Worried.”
“Worried?”
Twilight turned toward her again, grasping at the air helplessly for a moment. “I’m worried that they’re in trouble and not telling anyone. I’m worried about why they changed in the first place.”
“Well, Pumpkin,” Telma set down her pencil, “sometimes people have things in their past that are just too hard or too big to share. They might have demons that they need to face alone.”
Twilight huffed a humorless laugh. He was very familiar with that sort of person. “Yeah, I guess.”
“But sometimes, people can just be too proud to ask for help.” She tore off her tally sheet and began folding it up to place in an envelope. “And some people are just too stubborn to admit that they need it.”
Twilight felt like Telma knew something that he didn’t as she held his gaze.
“Sometimes,” she murmured lowly, “when you really care about someone, you have to do a little digging. It’s for their own good.”
“You mean invading someone’s privacy,” Twilight muttered, turning away from her to start stacking glasses along the back wall.
“Well, sometimes stubborn people need that kind of help.”
“I’m finished for the evening.” They both turned as Champion appeared in the doorway, pulling on a dark blue leather jacket. “Goodnight, Miss Telma.”
“Goodnight, Skinny, drive safe.” Telma smiled as she and Twilight listened to Champion’s footsteps fading down the hallway toward the back door. “I think your shift is over, too,” she said quietly as she turned toward Twilight with a smile. “Good luck.”
Castle Town was winding down as Twilight pulled out onto the street. There was a quiet bustle to the city even at this hour; it never truly slept beneath its blanket of stars. But even through the crowds, it wasn’t hard to spot Champion. Even if his motorbike was nearly silent as he idled at a light, the unique design made him plainly stick out.
Twilight was a little easier on the throttle now and he rolled along the streets behind Champion at a respectable distance. Champion just so happened to take the same right turn that Twilight was planning on taking, and the same entrance ramp onto the freeway, too. As he sped along in the southbound lanes, Twilight reminded himself that he wasn’t following Champion, he was just coincidentally heading home along the same route.
But then he missed his exit, and then the next one, and now it was stubborn denial that fueled him as he weaved through traffic several tenths of a mile behind his target.
He wasn’t following Champion. He just had to know where he was going.
So when Champion took a quiet exit ramp about twenty miles south of town, Twilight dimmed the headlights as he rolled after him. He stayed just far enough away to keep his eyes on Champion’s tail lights as they followed a winding road through the countryside. When Champion finally pulled off onto a long gravel drive, Twilight cut the engine and rolled to a stop along the side of the road, just watching.
Twilight would have missed the small, run down-looking building if Champion hadn’t walked directly toward it. He fished something out of his pocket — it looked like a phone, but not the one Wild used to carry — and he lazily tapped it against a panel alongside the door as he approached. In the low light, Twilight swore he saw the panel change color.
Once Champion had vanished inside the building, Twilight sat and waited for what felt like eons before hopping off of his bike and walking down the roadside. Up close, the strange building looked much more solid and sturdy than its lop-sided profile had him believe. Just like the bike, a low unearthly glow emanated from seams along the side of the structure. He took a slow pace around the building, finding it… rather small. Where on earth would Champion have vanished to inside such a small space?
Twilight tentatively approached the main entrance, wincing as gravel crunched beneath his boots. The door was wider than it was tall, it had no knob on the outside, and by the glint of the moonlight it sure looked armored. As he approached, Twilight reached out a hand to touch the door—
But then it whispered open on quiet hinges, and a firm hand on his chest was shoving Twilight backward.
“What are you doing here?” Champion hissed with more emotion than Twilight had heard from him yet.
Twilight put his hands up in placation as Champion pushed him back down the drive. “Listen,” he tried, realizing that he had no convincing excuse for why he was here, “I swear I didn’t—”
“Quiet.”
Twilight’s jaw snapped shut as Champion’s eyes searched the darkness behind him. Twilight’s ears strained into the silence, but he heard nothing save for the sound of his own heartbeat.
“You set off the proximity alarm?” Apparently mollified by what he did — or didn’t — find, Champion turned his fury back on Twilight. “You need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Champion visibly bristled at Twilight’s stubbornness. “What?”
“I said I’m not leaving.” Twilight’s long-stewing anger was rearing its head at the worst possible time. He gestured toward the building behind them. “What the hell is this, Champion?”
“It’s nothing you need to—”
“You didn’t come home last night.” Twilight took a half-step forward, and in the moonlight Champion could see something raw in his eyes. “Why?”
“That’s none of your business,” Champion spat, brushing past Twilight now and stomping off toward where his bike was parked.
“You didn’t come home,” Twilight continued as he jogged alongside Champion, his volume gradually rising, “and you got hurt, and you won’t talk to anyone about it! Why!?”
“You’re out of line,” Champion muttered, but Twilight grabbed him by the elbow.
“Champion, if you’re in trouble, you need to talk to us!”
He yanked his arm out of Twilight’s grip. “I don’t need anything from you.”
Twilight clenched his fists at his side as his anger started to boil over. “Listen, I know you don’t give a shit about me, but I care about you, alright? And I can’t help you unless I know what’s going on! So would you just stop being a stubborn ass for one—”
BREEEE! BREEEE!
The sound of a blaring alarm cut through the still night air. The shrillness of it caused Twilight to cower and clutch at his ears as his heart started pounding like the frenzied tinkling of piano keys. Champion ducked down, too, his wide eyes searching wildly in the darkness. His mouth was moving, Twilight knew he was saying something, but he couldn’t hear anything over the terrible sound that was slicing through his skull.
When Champion froze, Twilight turned to follow his gaze out into the darkness. Far across the field, advancing upon them with jerky movements, an arachnid automaton glared down at them with a single sapphire eye.
And a thin red tracking beam flitted between the two of them as its terrifying eye started to glow.
Chapter 8
Summary:
In which Twilight embraces his true calling as a Link, Sky becomes a greeter, and the author gets too lazy to write a therapy scene.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Twilight clutched his hands against the sides of his head to try and shut out the ear-splitting shriek of alarm bells. The ground shivered beneath his knees. Champion was crouched down next to him, shouting something into his face, but Twilight couldn’t hear a damn thing.
Champion’s jaw flexed as he whipped his head around to see the Guardian advancing upon them. Twilight would have liked to get up, to run, but the alarm was getting louder and louder and louder, and Twilight was incapacitated by the sound. He cowered in the grass, shutting his eyes tightly and uselessly plastering his ears to the sides of his head.
Twilight flinched as nimble fingers snuck beneath his hands and he looked up at Champion with panic in his eyes. But even in the midst of the chaos, the soldier’s eyes were as serene as ever. Quickly, Champion nestled something soft into his ears. The sensation was strange at first, but Twilight was eased by the fact that the the obstruction cut out some of the ear-splitting noise. Champion reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone — Wild’s phone — and tapped the play button.
The sweet relief of sound deadening finally made the searing pain in Twilight’s skull cease, and a softer beat started playing in his ears. Champion didn’t smile, but he looked distinctly pleased as he set his phone in Twilight’s hand.
‘Stay put,’ Champion mouthed to him.
And then, he was gone.
Twilight didn’t dare disobey Champion’s directive. He stayed low in the tall grass like a fawn hiding in plain sight, watching as Champion ran out to meet the Guardian head-on. His motion drew the attention of the mechanical beast, and it listed to the right as Champion led it away from Twilight. That awful screaming alarm was becoming higher, more frequent — Twilight could still hear some of it through his earplugs — and the glow of that searing eye became brighter and brighter.
The beat in Twilight’s ears changed as Champion crouched low in the grass. Then, with a deafening ping! the machine discharged a blinding blue blast. Twilight could still see the streak when he closed his eyes, and even at this distance he could feel the heat of it on his face.
Once the light died, a long swath of charred earth smoldered in the wake of the Guardian’s blast. Twilight frantically searched in the dark for his friend—
And then, the Guardian lurched. Sparks flared from one of its spidery arms, and it floundered momentarily to catch its balance. Through the smoke and darkness, Twilight caught the barest glimpse of where Champion stood on the other side of the beast, hacking away at it with one of the strangest weapons Twilight had ever seen. The blade was longer than a knife but shorter than a sword, and Champion used it to slice away at the mechanical legs one by one.
Twilight stayed rooted to the spot. His eyes followed Champion’s movements, mesmerized, and eventually he realized that he was subtly nodding along with each clang of the blue blade against metal.
No, wait, not with Champion’s movements.
Twilight was nodding along to the beat in his ears. He recognized the song as one of Wild’s older tracks, something he’d concocted while they were still living in Termina. ‘Four on the floor,’ he’d explained once, not that Twilight knew what that meant. Wild had called it the heartbeat of the club, and now Twilight watched with fascination as Champion moved to the sound.
Eventually, the tracking beam lit on him again, and Champion started rapidly backing off from the monster. He reached behind himself, unstrapping something from beneath his jacket, and it wasn’t until he’d drawn an arrow that Twilight realized the strange thing he held was an honest-to-goddess bow. Champion’s eyes were focused as he trained his weapon on his target, as he let it fly at nearly point-blank range just one beat before the end of the measure.
As the arrow struck true the mechanical head spun, disoriented by the impact. But the next measure had already started and Champion didn’t waste an instant, immediately going back to hacking away at the Guardian’s legs.
He moved with familiar kinetic energy, twisting through the dewy grass on his back like a breakdancer as he dragged his blade along the belly of the beast. Just as he moved to the beat, though, Twilight realized that there was a pattern to the Guardian’s motions, too. The laser assaults came at regular intervals, and Champion knew the timing by heart. Twilight started to count out the measures in his head. By the fourth, Champion was drawing his bow again and holding steady to take another shot.
Twilight could tell that Champion was getting tired, though. He was breathing heavily as he let another arrow fly, as he continued cutting away at spindly metal legs, as he twisted around the Guardian to avoid its terrifying sights. But his grip on his blade was weakening, and a swipe from one of the metal legs wrenched it from his grip entirely. The blade appeared to flicker as it sailed away into the grass.
Slowly, Twilight got to his feet, his heart pounding as he debated whether to fight or to flee. He couldn’t possibly leave Champion to deal with his on his own, but could he really be of any help?
As the fourth measure came around, Champion started backing off again, reaching behind himself for his next arrow—
And Twilight saw him falter.
He was out.
“Hey!!!”
Twilight moved without thinking, shouting and waving his arms over his head. Champion’s eyes were wide as they met his — What are you doing!!? — and so was the Guardian’s, the glass now cracked but the motors behind the lens whirring without fail. It lurched unsteadily toward Twilight now on only three legs. This didn’t appear to affect the deadly precision of its laser eye, though, and Twilight counted off the beats in his mind as he started running.
He didn’t necessarily have a plan, but Twilight knew that he needed to arm himself. So he barreled through the wet grass, leaping as the chime of the Guardian rang out and fire licked at his heels. He was sweating. The adrenaline dump was insane, chasing the numbness from his limbs, from his heart. If he wasn’t so terrified Twilight might have tilted his head back to howl with laughter into the night sky at the rush of avoiding certain death. He skidded to a halt, reaching down to snatch Champion’s blue blade from the grass. With it locked securely in his grasp Twilight turned, meeting the Guardian’s blank stare with wild eyes.
Sixteen beats.
Twilight lunged toward the metal beast. Why was he shouting? The machine took an unsteady step toward him, and Twilight lashed out at its outstretched leg. The strange blue blade cut through the metal with ease.
Ten.
Finally unable to support itself on only two legs, the Guardian pitched to the side. The jagged edge of its metal body sank into the soft earth. It attempted to drag itself along with the futility of a dying insect, but grass and soil caked beneath it, rooting it in place.
Eight.
Icy fear spread through Twilight’s ribs as the tracking beam lit on his chest. He started to back away, uncertain. Being farther from the blast was safer, right? It would give him more time to dodge, right?? But then a shrill whistle pierced the air.
Time seemed to slow as the Guardian’s eye swiveled away from Twilight. Champion must have retrieved one of his arrows from the grass. He stood out in the open field, his bow drawn taut and the intensity in his eye trained on his target. A spark of hope kindled relief in Twilight’s heart as he watched Champion let his arrow fly, his aim infallibly true—
The Guardian’s blast cut through the night, shredding the arrow mid-flight. Champion made a choked-off sound as the beam hit him square in the chest. It sent him sailing across the plain, skidding through the damp grass as a trail of fire chased him along his path.
Sixteen beats.
The Guardian’s eye fizzled out, that maddening chime silent for a moment as it appeared to get its bearings.
Twelve.
Twilight stared at Champion’s prone form, feeling his extremities turn to ice. He wasn’t moving.
Nine.
Twilight knew that he couldn’t squander his time. He slipped in the damp grass as he started running, charging head-on toward the Guardian at top speed.
Five.
The Guardian’s eye swiveled past him for a half-second before locking on. He swore he could feel the tracking beam burning his skin.
Four.
Twilight’s sneaker slipped as he set his foot on the body of the metal behemoth, but his momentum still carried him forward. He lifted the blade over his head, clasping the hilt with both hands as he cried out in fear and in fury.
Thre—
He embedded the blade into the Guardian’s eye with such force that the lens housing sank backward into its socket as it shattered. The alarm ceased its incessant blaring, and for a moment the great creature seemed stunned. Twilight held on for a moment, just long enough to watch as light began to leak between its seams. He stumbled backward off of the body of the Guardian, catching himself as the shrill sound of dying metal rang out in the night.
The great beast appeared to reach upward as though it meant to pull the blade from its own eye, before it abruptly went rigid. The silence that rang out in the wake of the chaos seemed to echo.
Twilight was at Champion’s side in an instant. “Hey, are you with me?”
Champion lay facedown in the grass, and Twilight was never so grateful to hear him groan as he was when he rolled Champion onto his back. The front of Champion’s shirt was now a singed hole, and for a nauseating moment Twilight thought that his skin was burned to black and orange. But as Champion pushed himself to sit up, Twilight caught the glint of metal beneath his shirt in the moonlight. It had the same eerie quality as his odd motorbike: shiny like the carapace of a beetle with a faint orange glow in the detailing.
“I’m fine,” Champion grunted, working hard to catch his breath.
Twilight sank back on his heels, then onto his butt before sprawling back in the damp grass. He didn’t realize until now how hard he was breathing, how his legs and arms sang in exhaustion, and now his heart pounded as his brain caught up to the situation.
Champion had been wearing armor to the firefight. Twilight had come armed only with his naiveté.
***
The hallways of Hyrule Castle felt even more foreign now than they had on Time’s first day at work. He didn’t get lost on the way to the Sages’ Hall today, and he didn’t linger in any corridor any longer than he absolutely needed to. Each guard he passed saluted him stiffly, and he nodded solemnly without making eye contact.
How many of these men and women were Yiga in disguise? Time was afraid to know the answer.
The tall mahogany doors creaked open ahead of him, and Time could immediately sense unease and confusion in the room. Impa had called an emergency meeting of the council and no one seemed to know why. Ruto was squawking about interruptions to her meetings with caterers and event planners, while Nabooru was speaking quickly and curtly into her phone in rapid-fire Gerudo. Darunia shuffled papers awkwardly with his giant hands, and he muttered a distracted greeting as Time took his seat at the long table.
“Any idea what this is about?” Time questioned, eyeing Darunia’s paperwork.
“Couldn’t say,” the Goron gruffly answered, “but it better be quick.”
Time’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned as he pulled it out, muttering a soft ‘excuse me’ as he glanced at the screen.
D.L. - 9:28am
Movement on target 01 last night
Disturbance 22mi outside of castle town
Time - 9:29am
I’m in a meeting. Can this wait?
D.L. - 9:29am
The target brought a friend
Time set his phone on the tabletop, staring intensely at the message until his screen went black again.
As the great doors opened, the Sages moved to rise, but Impa raised her open palm as she walked in briskly. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she said as she rounded the table toward her seat. Time could feel her shadow as it passed over his shoulders. “The queen will not be joining us for this meeting, so let’s get started.”
The lights in the chamber were dimmed as Impa took her seat and started speaking. “Last night at 0342, about twenty miles south of Castle Town, Guardian unit 193 reported activation of a local Sheikah terminal and went to investigate. Shortly afterward, the unit engaged with a hostile party, and within ten minutes it went offline.”
A map flickered up on the screen at the front of the room, a yellow diamond demonstrating the location of the incident.
“The team that went to investigate found the Guardian unit destroyed. There was evidence to suggest that it had engaged in a violent firefight, but no shells or other ballistic evidence were recovered. Furthermore, the Guardian’s core had been removed, taking all visual recording data with it. However, we were able to recover information from the terminal check-in which leads us to suspect that a former Royal Guard soldier is responsible.”
When Champion’s Guard portrait came up on the screen, Time sat up a bit taller.
“It’s that little twerp?”
All eyes shifted to Darunia, whose face darkened in anger.
“I thought you said he wasn’t supposed to be an issue anymore, Impa,” the Goron chieftain rumbled.
“His reappearance is a recent and unexpected development,” Impa spoke gravely. “We’re using the Sheikah Slate he’s pilfered to actively track his movements, so any time he activates the Slate we’ll get an automatic ping on his location. It’s unfortunate that he should return just ahead of the gala, but I suppose it was inevitable, what with the repositioning of the remaining Divine Beasts—”
“This is unacceptable!” Everyone in the room jumped as Darunia’s fist impacted the tabletop. “When you told me that this little terrorist was gone, I thought you meant that he was dead!!”
“Darunia—”
“You take the investigation out of my hands,” Darunia pinned Impa with a stony glare as he enumerated on his broad fingers, “you withhold information from me for months on end, you tell me that it’s ‘taken care of,’ and—”
“Darunia!” Impa’s voice was severe now. “This isn’t the time nor the place.”
“How many years’ worth of engineering is gone!” Darunia barreled onward, undeterred by Impa’s tone. “Billions of rupees worth of investment were destroyed! He made a laughingstock of the Goron nation!! He is the reason our Goron champion Daruk, my own flesh and blood, is dead!”
When Darunia moved to stand, Time hoped that he channeled some of his mentor as he braved the chieftain’s volcanic fury to set a firm hand on his forearm. “Impa,” Time spoke without looking away from his friend, “I recognize this as one of the targets from the long list you gave to me weeks ago. Why don’t you leave this to me.”
“That will not be necessary.” Time resisted the urge to clench his jaw as Impa dismissed his offer. “I’ve already mobilized hundreds of Sheikah foot soldiers to scout the area and find him before the sun sets—”
“And what a fantastic waste of resources two days ahead of the commemorative gala.”
Time could feel the ice in Impa’s gaze as she glared at him across the table. “This development has escalated the target beyond the scope of your position, I’m afraid.”
“Beyond the scope of the Appointed Knight?”
It was unlike him to throw around titles, and the room hushed as Time backhanded Impa with her own gift. “Really, Impa,” he went on as gently as he could, “this is within my jurisdiction. I can handle one little ruffian.”
“That ‘ruffian’ is responsible for the destruction of major defensive infrastructure—”
Time held up a hand in acknowledgement. “In the interest of allocating your time and resources appropriately ahead of the gala and,” he added a little more firmly, “as a sworn brother of the Goron Tribe, I will take this on personally. My proxy and I will see to it that this is taken care of.”
There was heavy tension in the room as Time turned to meet the fire in Darunia’s eyes. “You have my word,” he murmured around the knot in his throat.
“Very well.” Impa’s tone was sharp as she conceded. “But you should be aware that Vah Naboris’s repositioning is going to start tonight ahead of the gala.” Impa’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “If anything happens to Naboris, I will be forced to intervene.”
Time met Impa’s gaze, searching their ruby depths for any sign of his friend.
“Understood.”
There was no warmth to be found there.
***
Wind’s computer chair creaked as he sat back, staring at one of his multitude of monitors. The setup Time had purchased for him was awesome: three liquid retina displays, more storage than he should ever reasonably need over the lifetime of a computer, and a processor so fast that it got things done practically as soon as he thought about them. But currently, he was engrossed by the very corner of his massive display, on a tiny little grey chat window that took up less than five percent of his CPU processing.
Time - 10:21am
Wind, I need location information for everyone last night.
When Wind went to the trouble of stealing everyone’s phones and installing tracking software on each, he thought it’d just be useful for his own pranks and blackmail capabilities. It was also a good way to earn a quick rupee if he reset their passcode. He hadn’t really thought twice about it when Time had requested this sort of information before.
But something about this seemed odd. Especially after digitally eavesdropping on the messages between Time and “D.L.” earlier that morning.
And after seeing the person who looked quite a bit like Time fleeing the site of the accident.
Most of the information he had on the boys was inconsequential. Legend had gone to the hospital where he met Hyrule, and the two of them walked home together after his shift. Warriors and Four had spent the evening at the house, Sky had been holed up in his room talking on the phone with his girlfriend all night.
Twilight and Champion had gone to work, and left at the same time around three in the morning, after which they both sped about twenty miles outside the city.
And they were still going.
Wind’s fingers tapped idly at his keyboard before he decided to answer.
Wind - 10:25am
not at my computer rn
will let u know once i am
As soon as the message was sent, he pushed back from his desk and started down the hallway. He had the sneaking suspicion that he was missing something, and Wind did not like the feeling that he was being jerked around without having the whole story. He quietly pushed open the door to Time’s office, where the old man had spent the majority of the previous day. He crept in, eyeing the expensive-looking chess set laid out on the table, making his way toward Time’s desk.
And Wind was in luck. Time had been in such a rush this morning that he’d left his work bag on his chair. Wind undid the clasp and started leafing through the manilla folders all crammed within, curiously pulling out photos.
Stopping dead when he got to one that he recognized.
Minutes later, there was a clumsy thump against Warriors’s bedroom door before Wind knocked. He didn’t wait for an answer before barging in with his arms full.
Warriors barely glanced up from his phone as he lounged on the bed. “I’m only available for fashion consultations between nine and ten-thirty, you know that.”
“Wars, I think there’s trouble.”
Warriors snorted. “What, did the old man finally catch on to the fact that you’ve been selling your Adderall prescription to Four?”
Wind glared at him as he kicked the bedroom door closed. He hefted the pile of papers and folders in his arms and dumped them across the bedspread.
The color was quick to drain from Warriors’s face as he stared down at his own portrait.
***
The wind whistled past his ears as Twilight sped along on Champion’s heels. It was harder to keep up than it had been last night when it didn’t matter if he’d lagged behind. Where Champion’s motorcycle whispered as he accelerated, Epona snarled as her engine pushed the heavier frame to maintain the same speed. They hadn’t stopped moving since well before dawn. “I have a safe house,” Champion had muttered as he’d mounted his bike, “stay close.”
So Twilight remained glued to his bumper as the miles sped past, as the sun rose ahead of them, as his stomach grumbled in protest of not stopping to eat. Under any other circumstance, he might have worried about following Champion so far out of Hyrule Field.
But he could still smell the ozone in his clothes from the searing beam of the Guardian’s laser. He was still fidgeting in his seat in anxiety.
And there was no way he would leave Champion to deal with whatever this was alone.
Eventually, Champion pulled off of the main road. Pebbles plinked off of their bikes as they rumbled down a tiny hard-pack path. Off of that, Champion pulled into a grove of trees, and he cut the engine as he rolled to a stop next to run-down building that looked much like the last one.
Twilight’s lower body felt numb after so much time spent on his bike. He barely had a moment to stretch before Champion was motioning for him to follow. Champion pulled that unusual phone off his hip again and tapped it against a small console next to the entrance. Even in the bright sun, Twilight could see how the console’s color changed from orange to blue.
“Is another one of those things going to come now?” Twilight looked around the surrounding forest nervously.
“Closest one is twenty miles west,” Champion replied as though that would assuage his anxiety.
“How do you know that?”
Champion wiggled the phone in his hand demonstratively before clipping it back onto his belt. “Watch your step.”
The armored door closed behind them, shutting out the bright morning light, and now Twilight couldn’t see a damn thing. He listened as Champion’s footsteps faded just ahead of him. Tentatively, he slid his shoe forward, finding the precipice of a stair not very far in front of him.
“Rhobbie,” Champion’s voice cut through the darkness below, “lights.”
As he spoke, a soft blue light chased away the darkness. It illuminated just the edges of a long flight of stairs.
“Is the proximity alarm functional?”
“It is, I’ll get it on.”
Twilight cautiously descended into a dimly-lit underground storage space. It was dark, cramped, and the low lights embedded in the walls made everything glow with an eerie blue light. Champion set his hands on his hips, taking a moment to survey their surroundings. Piles upon piles of boxes and crates lined the walls, in some places extending up to the ceiling. He surveyed the clutter, trying to decide where he wanted to start.
“You know this guy?”
Twilight heard a series of tiny metal taps rapidly approaching from his left. From around the corner of an old wooden crate, a tiny metal spider skittered out to stare up at Twilight with a single piercing sapphire eye.
His reaction was involuntary: there was a hollow metal clang as he punted the little Guardian clear across the storage space.
“Woah, hey!” Champion was quick; he stretched up onto his toes to catch the Guardian mid-flight before it smashed into a stack of crates. He turned to Twilight with an incredulous look before gently setting the little monster back down on its three spindly legs. “This one’s not a threat.”
Twilight’s cheeks burned as he addressed the little unit. “Ah, sorry… Rhobbie?”
“No, that’s Terrako.” Champion stood, turning back toward the mountains of crates. “Rhobbie’s not here, but he can still see us through the robot.”
“But I’ll certainly accept the apology,” the man’s tinny voice snapped through a speaker somewhere in the body of the Guardian. “This thing isn’t easy to maintain on limited resources, you know!”
“S-Sorry,” Twilight repeated, eyeing the little egg as it circled him suspiciously.
Champion picked up an old crowbar that was left leaning against the wall. “Tell me what we’ve got at this location.”
A little disc at the top of the Guardian popped up for just a moment in what Twilight could only assume was a rude gesture before it scuttled off toward the far corner of the room. Each of the wooden crates had a QR code stamped on the corner, and the Guardian beeped as it read off each one.
“Bomb arrows, five by twenty.”
“No.”
“Electric arrows, five by three.”
“Good.” Champion approached the crate and Twilight jumped as he slammed his crowbar in beneath the top. He set his foot up on the side and started heaving to crack it open. Terrako continued down the aisle.
“Knight’s shie—”
“No.”
“Guardian shields.”
“Hrk… Yes, enough for each of us?”
“Unfortunately no.”
Twilight watched for several seconds as Champion struggled. Normally, Twilight would have taken a jab at him for not having the strength to crack the old, dry wood, but the darkening color on Champion’s face made him think better of it. “Um, can I give it a shot?”
Although Champion glared at Twilight over his shoulder, he stepped back, leaving his crowbar wedged in the crate. “What have I been doing over the past several months, anyway?”
“What do you mean?” Twilight gave the crowbar an experimental push, trying to judge just how much force he’d need.
“Strength training?” Champion looked exasperated. “Running? Anything?”
“Uh, you dance out at the club.”
Champion fixed him with a sour look, but with one heave the crate cracked open at Twilight’s hands. Champion muttered a ‘thank you’ as he stepped forward to shove off the wooden lid.
“Ancient arrows!” Rhobbie called out triumphantly from the other side of the unit.
“All of them,” Champion barked back. He pulled himself up onto the edge of the crate with no small amount of difficulty, balancing his hips on its edge before he leaned into it to begin digging through.
“Champion,” Twilight spoke as he looked around the storage space, “what is all this?”
“Supplies.”
“For what?”
“Guardian hunting.”
Twilight narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Champion lifted his head just enough to stare at Twilight over the edge of the crate. “You saw what they can do.”
“Yes, and that’s why I think you should just leave them the hell alone.”
Champion pursed his lips. Fair point. He turned back to begin digging in the crate again.
“And you’re just going to use arrows to fight them?”
“And blades.”
Twilight’s eye twitched. “That’s like throwing stones at a giant.”
Champion reared upward and hopped off of the edge of the crate, cradling two bundles of yellow-tipped arrows in his arms. “It’s what we have.”
Twilight followed him as Champion started arranging a pile of supplies near the door. “What the Guardians even for?”
“Defense.” Rhobbie’s voice came from across the room. “They’re Sheikah tech that was developed for the purpose of defending Hyrule against outside threats, up to and including invasion by hostile forces.”
“So if they’re meant for defense, why would they come after us?”
There was uneasy silence in the wake of Twilight’s question. Champion glanced over to where the little Guardian wavered on its three metal legs, but Rhobbie offered no help.
“I at least deserve to know why I’m here,” Twilight said as he gestured about the dimly-lit storage space.
Champion sighed, and when he turned to look back at Twilight, his lips were drawn in a thin, stubborn line. Although he turned away, picking up his crowbar again, he at least began to explain.
“When I was an active member of the Guard, I was on a small team working to develop automated defensive infrastructure. The project was meant to prevent loss of human lives in war. Each of the Hyrulean nations — Lanayru, Eldin, Tabantha, and Gerudo — built their own individual large-scale contributions to the project called the Divine Beasts. In Central Hyrule, we built an army of smaller units called the Guardians, designed by F—”
For a split second, something in Champion’s demeanor changed, but before Twilight could read it, he’d wedged his crowbar into the next crate.
“…by Princess Zelda Flora Tacita Hyrule.”
Champion leaned all of his weight into the crowbar, his arms shaking with effort, and this time the crate did crack open for him. He still couldn’t get the lid off himself, though, and Twilight stepped up next to him to help pry it open. “So you helped build them, too?”
“I was involved in combat testing the prototypes. They’re designed to target me.”
“Someone didn’t think to reset the programming when you left?”
“That, or someone didn’t want to.” Champion hefted himself up onto the crate again, leaning in and pulling out bundles of strange-looking arrows. He made to jump down but Twilight held out his arms, so Champion began stacking the bundles on him instead.
“I’m sure Sky could get a message to the princess for you. He and Sun talk almost every day.”
“Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter,” Champion muttered, frowning as he hopped down again. He counted the arrows in Twilight’s arms with his eyes — only ten — and worry quirked the corner of his mouth. “The princess is no longer in charge of research and development, and last I knew, the head of the entire project had changed. That’s when things started going wrong.”
“That’s when you got hurt,” Twilight quietly supplied.
Champion wasn’t making eye contact anymore, but Twilight was getting better at reading his subtle body language: the frustration in the hunch of his shoulders, the way his eyes shifted to avoid looking at Twilight.
“There was an accident,” Champion spoke quietly, looking down at his own open hands. “A friend of mine, Daruk, died while we were doing test runs on Vah Rudania, the Divine Beast of Eldin. I was there with him…”
The same dark cloud that Twilight had watched pass in front of Sky’s eyes was much slower to clear from Champion’s.
“It’s the last thing I remember,” he finally added.
Twilight gave him several seconds before quietly speaking, “You don’t really think it was an accident.”
Champion pursed his lips, his eyes cold again as he looked up to meet Twilight’s eye. “I can’t talk to Sky about this. I can’t tell him or Warriors anything about this project.”
“Champion—”
“I shouldn’t be telling you anything about this.”
“Come on,” Twilight pleaded, following behind him as Champion moved on to the next crate, “you have to reach out to somebody. This sounds way too big for you to handle alone.”
“I can’t drag anyone else into this and risk getting someone else killed.” The next crate was much easier for Champion to crack open now that his frustration was laid bare. “It’s bad enough I put you in danger already.”
“Then let me help you,” Twilight gestured to himself, “I’m already involved.”
“This isn’t a fight for civilians.”
“And you’re in no condition to face those things alone,” Twilight asserted.
Champion hopped down from the edge of the crate with a small metal square in hand. He regarded Twilight coolly. “Why should I trust you?”
Twilight’s face tightened for an instant. “You don’t remember a thing about me, do you?”
There was a flash of honest remorse in the crease of Champion’s brow, but it was gone in an instant. When he didn’t answer right away, Twilight turned away, pushing his hands through his hair.
“I don’t remember a lot of things about the past several months,” Champion spoke quietly. “It’s not just you.”
Twilight couldn’t suppress the way his mouth twisted. Words caught in his throat, all fighting to the surface first, but he was interrupted by the vibration of his phone in his pocket. He pulled it out, surprised to see who was calling, and he swiped to answer.
“What’s up, Wars?”
“Are you with Champion?”
Twilight paused, turning back to meet Champion’s eye. “Yeah.”
On the other end of the line, he heard a bag hurriedly zipped. “Where are you?”
***
Time’s drive home from work that afternoon was a blur of cars and pedestrians and traffic lights. He sped home on auto-pilot as he mulled over everything he’d learned. There were too many loose ends to try and keep straight, and he couldn’t pick just one thing to focus on first. Now that he’d inserted himself into the manhunt for Champion, he spent most of his morning poring over files to learn everything he could about the Divine Beasts and the Guardian Defensive Project.
What he’d learned was that he was probably in over his head.
The gala was just two days away. Foreign dignitaries were descending upon the capital already, and as part of the opening ceremony, the Divine Beasts would be positioning to be visible from the castle — all except Vah Rudania, to Darunia’s great embarrassment. The firepower and destructive capabilities of those machines was enough to turn Time’s stomach, and there was no way Ganon wasn’t planning to use that to his advantage.
Time had never imagined he’d be so grateful that he and Malon lived apart, and he was sure that she wouldn’t mind if he sent some of the boys out to stay at the ranch “just for the weekend.” If he told them she needed help out there, a handful of them would jump at the chance to be useful. He still hadn’t heard back from Wind, he had no idea which of the boys were even home right now, and he didn’t know who had gone off with Champion — although he had a pretty good guess.
Time was still mired in thought as he pulled into the garage, shutting Epona down and walking mechanically back toward the house. He’d have forty-eight hours to track Champion down. And then what? He would have liked to convince Champion to trust him, hopefully, and enlist his help in stopping the Divine Beasts. But Dark was right; if they didn’t appear to be actively ‘neutralizing’ Champion, someone else was going to step in, be that the Royal Guard or Ganon’s spies or, gods, even Darunia’s people…
Time was still running through his list of possibilities and worst-case scenarios as he ascended the back porch steps. He reached for the doorknob but from inside the house, someone opened the door for him.
Time didn’t even get the chance to look up before a heavy fist connected with his jaw.
The hit knocked him senseless for a few terrifying seconds. He sprawled on his back on the porch as shouting erupted from inside the house, and he lifted his arms to protect his face from a second and third strike.
“Not here!” Warriors shouted as he struggled to haul Time’s assailant off of him, but he wasn’t strong enough. Time felt someone grab his arm, ready to haul him back onto his feet and keep going, before the floorboards vibrated as someone stood over him, getting between them and shoving his attacker back.
“Not here,” Warriors repeated, hissing through his teeth. His voice was farther away now as he stumbled back across the porch.
Disoriented, Time opened his eye to see that Legend stood over him protectively, that Warriors still held his assailant by the arms—
And that Sky probably would have kept going if his friends hadn’t intervened.
Notes:
And, for anyone interested in what Twilight may have been listening to at the beginning of the chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pohfPhH4pqg
Chapter 9
Summary:
In which Legend acts as the Registered Adult, Time skips out on his dance lessons, and the Guard boys take a road trip.
Chapter Text
Saria knew when she entered the waiting room that morning that Time wasn’t coming.
He was normally the first appointment of her day, and he was punctual to a fault. On more than one occasion, he had been found waiting in the hallway before the receptionist had even arrived to open the office. Saria was a little surprised that he hadn’t called. Although the majority of clients wouldn’t have, Time wasn’t like the majority of her clients.
After an unsuccessful attempt at calling him, Saria spent her unexpected free hour with her desk chair turned toward the window, tea mug in hand, looking out across her meager view of Castle Town. No matter where one was in the city, you could always count on seeing Hyrule Castle standing tall and proud at its center. Its high walls were bedecked with gleaming blue banners that ruffled in the breeze in celebration of the upcoming anniversary ball.
Saria’s eyes followed the shadow of a cloud as it crept up the walls of the castle, quietly blanketing the stone behemoth in darkness.
***
The split in his lip stung. The swelling that was already starting on his cheek throbbed. But nothing cut Time so deeply as the silence in the townhouse.
He sat slouched at the table with a bag of frozen peas — which they seemed to keep around exclusively for injuries — pressed against the side of his face. A few seats away, Legend sat frowning into his phone, typing away furiously. Four sat at the island, making a token effort to seem distracted by the napkin holder.
“He trusted you!!”
Time winced at the memory of how Sky’s voice broke as he’d shouted at him. Sky had shrugged out of Warriors’s grip and took two long strides back across the porch, ready to whale on Time again, until Warriors and Legend both hauled him back.
“Wild trusted you! He cared about you!!”
The truth sank in like a knife in Time’s ribs. Even if he had wanted to defend himself, there were just no words. All he could do was hang his head.
He deserved it when Sky spit at his feet.
“So!” Legend smacked his phone facedown on the table. “Want to tell us what’s going on?”
Legend’s pointed glare made Time feel like he was being scolded for staying out past curfew. He rolled his jaw, appreciating a new click each time he did.
“The Guard bros have all moved out of the house.” Legend spread his hands in demonstration. “Twilight and Champion have been missing since yesterday. Wind is locked away on the third floor and he won’t talk to anybody. Sky nearly took your head off with his bare hands, and while he and Wars took off on your motorcycle you said to just ‘let them.’”
Time didn’t respond. It was the least he could do for them; they would need something fast to get them out of Castle Town.
“Alright,” Legend slapped his hands on the tabletop impatiently, “I’ll do the talking, then! Wars and Sky think that you caused the accident that put Wild in the hospital, that you’re out to kill all three of them, and I call bullshit.”
When Time looked up again, Legend was holding his gaze with fiery conviction. Behind him, Four was openly staring, his face placid and neutral.
“Why don’t you believe them?” Time’s voice was low and quiet. He seemed like he wanted to be convinced, himself.
The way Legend’s mouth twisted warned that he was ready to begin shouting if pushed much farther this afternoon. “It would have been easy to kill Wild in the hospital and make it look like a medical error. Sky, well, I probably wouldn’t try anything on him unless he was asleep, but he tends to do that a lot. And I’m willing to put money on the fact that you’d use any excuse to break War’s neck.”
Time snorted without humor. He set the bag of peas back on the tabletop as he rolled his jaw again.
Legend leaned forward, enunciating with the utmost annoyance as he tapped his fingertips on the table, “We want. To help you. But we. Cannot do that. Unless you. Fucking. Talk to us—”
A knock at the back door cut Legend off. The three exchanged silent glances before Four slid off of his stool and moved toward the hallway. “Miss Paya?” they heard him ask before the screen door creaked open.
Legend and Time both turned to find Paya standing in the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked pale, and her eyes were red and puffy.
“I-I’m sorry to bother you,” she stammered, her voice hoarse.
“Not at all.” Time slowly stood. “Is everything alright?”
“Y-Yes. I mean, no. I mean—” Paya’s lips thinned into an unsteady line. “It’s just that… the power got shut off today, a-and my phone did, too, and I found this big orange notice on the front door, and…”
Paya lifted her shaking hands to cover her face. She stood in silence for several seconds while Legend and Four shared a concerned look. When she lifted her face again, her eyes were wide and watery.
“Sir, have you seen my aunt?”
***
Twilight had never really been one for sweets. Savory, salty flavors were the ones he preferred. He stayed away from those fruity cocktails at the bar, he drank his coffee black like Time did, and he wasn’t big on dessert. Recently, though, his tastes had started to change.
“Hey, try this, tell me what you think!”
First, it was vanilla. Subtly sweet, there was a mellowness to it that set it apart from other flavors. It wasn’t bitter like chocolate, didn’t hurt his teeth like caramel. He found it rather pleasant.
“I know you don’t put anything in your coffee, but I have this recipe…”
Vanilla bean with cinnamon and cardamom was spicy and warm and just a little sweet. Twilight hadn’t realized how bitter his coffee was until he’d tried it with Wild’s special coffee spice. He used it almost every morning after that.
“So Sky’s birthday is coming up, I wanted to try making his favorite cake! Will you be my taste-tester?”
Then it was on to strawberries and sponge cake, and peach cobbler with ice cream, and blueberry muffins fresh from the oven. Twilight felt spoiled, he felt happy, and on those mornings when he’d awaken to the sweet scents of vanilla and cinnamon, he would smile in his sleep as he rolled over—
The strangled little grunt beneath him jarred Twilight awake immediately. For a few frightening moments, he didn’t remember where he was. The ground beneath him was rock-hard, there were sharp points digging into his shoulders, and although he shivered in the breeze it felt like his legs were on fire. He sat up with a start, struggling to get his bearings in his exhausted panic.
“Easy…”
The firm hand on Twilight’s arm anchored him. Champion watched him carefully, waiting for the confusion of sleep to fade from Twilight’s eyes before letting him go.
“You’re heavy,” was all he muttered before taking another bite of his beef jerky stick.
The faded awning over Beedle’s Bodega offered them little relief from the sun, but it was better than sizzling on the back of their motorbikes. The weather was wicked this far out toward the Gerudo Desert. The air was dry, the sun was brutal, and everything was covered in a sheen of red dust. Even in spite of the discomforts, though, as soon as Twilight’s butt had hit the ground, he’d passed right out. It was the roughest four hours of sleep he’d gotten in the last thirty-six.
They’d taken off from the storage shrine yesterday afternoon, and it took them all evening and most of the night to reach the rendezvous point where they’d agreed to meet Sky and Warriors. It was pretty far off the beaten path, but Warriors had insisted upon heading somewhere with poor cell reception. Twilight tried to not think about why.
He grimaced as he eyed the pile of at least six other jerky wrappers that littered the ground between them. “Is that all they had?”
Champion shrugged. “Quick protein.” He reached into the bag next to him and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in paper, offering it to Twilight. “Had them make one without bacon. Sorry if it’s cold.”
Twilight accepted the offering, watching Champion’s face carefully as the soldier kept his eyes elsewhere.
“Thanks.”
It wasn’t long before the roar of a motorcycle announced their friends’ arrival. Twilight set his hand on the brick wall behind him as he stood, steadying himself for a moment before he rounded the corner. As he took in the sight of his friends, though, he felt even dizzier than he had when he first stood up.
“He’s going to kill you,” Twilight greeted them, gesturing to Epona. She was covered in more road dust than he’d ever seen on her.
“Oh he’s going to kill us anyway,” Warriors waved a hand as he dismounted the bike, “might as well have some fun before we die.”
Sky set the kickstand before hopping off of the bike, unstrapping one of the two packs from his back. Twilight lifted his hands as Sky tossed it to him. “What’s this?”
“Necessities,” Sky replied, already walking past Twilight to where Champion sat.
Twilight unzipped the backpack and began digging around inside. They’d gone through his closet and collected a handful of things: a change of clothes, fresh socks, a sturdier pair of shoes than his sneakers, a phone charger, and his wireless ear buds.
“Wars,” Twilight asked quietly, “what’s going on?”
Warriors heaved a reluctant sigh as he motioned for Twilight to follow. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Twilight was taken aback by the change in their friends’ demeanor. He couldn’t remember a time when Sky, normally so cheerful and easygoing, wore such a serious scowl. He’d never seen Warriors’s face so drawn, either; the little furrow in his brow was normally reserved for such worries as which belt matched his shoes enough but not too much. Frankly, Twilight wished that’s all they had to worry about. Maybe life would be so simple again someday.
They huddled together in the vanishing shade next to the bodega as Warriors launched into a frank explanation of the past twelve hours: of Wind barging into his room with Time’s stack of target dossiers, Wind’s teary-eyed admission that Time had him keeping tabs on the boys for weeks now, the fact that Time had no defense against Sky’s accusations as they were storming out of the house.
Champion sat straight and tense, his expression unreadable as he glanced between Sky and Warriors. Twilight slumped back against the brick wall, pushing his hair up and off of his forehead as he stared up at the awning. His eyes flitted back and forth as he began connecting dots in his mind.
“Are you sure that he’s after us?” Champion asked quietly when Warriors had finished his update.
Although Warriors opened his mouth, Twilight was the one to answer: “Yes.”
All eyes turned to Twilight as his face pinched in frustration. “He’s been acting shady ever since the accident,” he spoke lowly. “I knew he’d been asking Wind to help him with something, but he wasn’t sharing anything with the rest of us. His schedule has been off for days now, like he doesn’t want to be around us at all. And there was…”
Twilight exhaled as he leaned forward, scrubbing his hands over his face tiredly. Champion and Sky shared a glance. Warriors’s focus on Twilight didn’t waver.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Twilight admitted, “but Wind said the old man had him looking something up. He had all these pictures from around the site of the car accident. There was someone who fled the scene that looked just like him. Maybe it was him.”
Sky swore under his breath as he sat back. “Well it’s not like he has a twin, right?”
Twilight squinted as he appeared to honestly think that one over before shaking his head. “It had to be him.”
Champion rested his elbows on his knees as he hunched forward, his right leg vibrating restlessly. If anything, he looked more confused than before.
“Do you really think that, Twi?” Warriors asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral.
Twilight met Warriors’s shrewd gaze. Maybe if he was more alert, he’d be able to read the question beneath the question. But Twilight was quite tired, and that had been a very small breakfast sandwich. He’d been beaten and battered while following around the person who used to be his best friend, and his world had been turned so upside-down over the last several days that he needed an anchor.
And anger was as good an anchor as any.
“I can’t think of any other explanation,” Twilight replied, “can you?”
Warriors sat with his fingers steepled in front of his face. He could feel how Twilight’s eyes bored into his skull, how Champion’s trust hung by a tenuous thread, how Sky was ready to erupt at a moment’s notice. He opened his mouth to reply, but a chirp at Champion’s belt saved him at the last second.
“Woah,” Champion whispered, setting the slate in his lap and pinching the screen to zoom in.
“What?” Twilight sat up a little taller.
“There’s…” Champion squinted at the screen in disbelief. “One of the Divine Beasts is on the move.”
“The what?” Sky sounded confused.
Warriors, however, swore under his breath as he moved to Champion’s other side and stared down at the slate.
Twilight leaned in to look over Champion’s shoulder, squinting at the glare on the screen. Champion pointed to a blinking yellow cursor. “The Divine Beast of the Gerudo nation is… it’s moving toward Central Hyrule.” He looked up to the red mountains on the horizon. “It’s heading this way.”
Sky and Warriors shared a look before Sky ventured, “Should we do something?”
“Yeah.” Champion clipped the slate back onto his belt as he hurried to his feet. “We need to go stop that thing.”
***
It was the day before the anniversary gala, and the hallways of Hyrule Castle bustled with activity. Royal Guardsmen were busy screening those who entered and exited. They all stood at attention as Time approached and allowed him through without stopping him. Blue banners were being hoisted overhead in the great arching hallway that led toward the main ballroom. Ruto stalked up and down the halls, wielding a clipboard as she barked orders to anyone within earshot. Party planners and caterers and decorators and florists were rushing about, and there were at least a hundred faces here that Time didn’t recognize.
There would be hundreds more here on the night of the gala.
But Time kept his head high, his gaze straight ahead. He could only focus on one thing at a time. Now wasn’t the time to worry about all the new faces in the castle, or whether Legend was going to be able to get through to Wind from the other side of a locked door, or if Paya was going to settle in comfortably on the second floor. Right now, he was headed toward the main ballroom to meet with the queen. It was the final rehearsal for their grand entrance together, and one of the last times he’d get to talk with Lullaby before the ball.
So far, he had been able to narrow down at least one person on the Sages’ Council who was likely a spy sent by Ganon. The fact that she was the queen’s closest confidante made it difficult to catch Lullaby alone.
The great doors were ajar when Time arrived at the ballroom. Their instructors, Judo and Marilla, were already waiting for him, but otherwise the great circular room was empty.
“Where is the queen?” Time questioned, glancing around the cavernous space.
“She said she had an urgent meeting,” Judo explained, “so she won’t be joining us.”
“Did she say how long she will be?” Time frowned. “Perhaps we can reschedule—”
“She did not.” Marilla was the one to step forward. “Besides, you and your two left feet need more practice with the waltz than her Highness does. I can act as your partner.”
Before Time could open his mouth to argue, a buzz in his pocket made him pause. “Pardon me,” he turned away from her to glance at his phone screen, and he answered right away.
“Impa.”
“Vah Naboris began repositioning at 0900 this morning,” she started without greeting him. “Half an hour later, the Sheikah slate was activated nearby, and it’s been pinging us all morning.”
Time could feel the color drain from his face.
“The target is on his way to attack Vah Naboris. I have a team of Sheikah foot soldiers en route to intercept him as we speak. They have instructions to take them alive, but—”
“That isn’t necessary,” Time seethed, already stalking out of the ballroom and back down the crowded hallway, “give me their location I will go myself.”
“They are more than an hour outside the city.” There was a satisfied edge to Impa’s voice. “You’d never get there in time.”
Time exhaled sharply through his nose, struggling to rein in his rising temper. “We talked about this. This is still within my jurisdiction—”
“And I told you that the moment one of the Divine Beasts was compromised, I would be forced to intervene. I’m only calling you—”
“Impa,” Time hissed through his teeth, drawing nervous glances from those nearby, “they’re mine.”
The silence on the other end of the line made Time’s heart pound in his chest. But there was no emotion in Impa’s voice as she answered, “Then you’d better hurry. My team isn’t stopping.”
And then, the line went dead.
Time stared at his phone for a moment, disbelief numbing his chest. She was right, there was no way he was going to get out there in time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
But just in case…
Time dialed quickly as he shoved through an emergency exit and into the stairwell. When the other line clicked, he didn’t get a word out before the other person spoke:
“I’m already on it.”
***
The air in the Gerudo Highlands was cold despite the glare of the afternoon sun. Twilight’s jacket and helmet protected him from the frigid wind that whistled past them. He sat astride Champion’s unusual motorbike, tailed closely by Sky and Warriors as they sped around switchbacks and climbed their way up toward the highland summit. Champion’s bike was a much smoother ride than Twilight was used to, and it was a lot more powerful. The others had to push their bikes hard to keep up.
“Hey Wars,” Twilight spoke, tilting his head just a bit toward where Epona glided along on his left, “I thought you said you couldn’t drive.”
“I said I didn’t have a license,” Warriors corrected him. Even if Twilight couldn’t see his face behind his helmet, he could picture War’s smug grin.
Despite the road noise and howling wind, they could hear each other clearly through their ear buds. Cell service was hit or miss out near the desert, but they’d had good luck so far maintaining a call between the four of them. Twilight had to hand it to the Guard boys; they were pretty sound planners in a pinch.
Seated on the bike behind him, Champion clung to Twilight’s middle. He kept his eye on the horizon and occasionally checked his slate to track their position. The slate clipped into a perfect spot on the dash, and Champion had to stand up a bit to see over Twilight’s shoulder and poke at the screen.
“I need to intercept Vah Naboris as soon as possible,” Champion had barked that morning as they hurried to gear up and get going, “you three should find a place to lay low—”
“No.”
Twilight was relieved to hear his own thoughts on Sky’s tongue. Sky didn’t balk under the intensity of Champion’s stare, and he licked his lips as he met Twilight’s gaze momentarily.
“We’re not splitting up,” Sky went on. “None of us followed you all the way out here just to see you go off alone again, Champion.”
When Champion had opened his mouth to argue, Warriors cut him off, “These aren’t just Guardians we’re talking about here. This is one of the Divine Beasts.”
When his eyes fell on Twilight, Champion’s mouth thinned to a tense line. “It isn’t safe.”
“And that’s why you can’t go alone,” Twilight reiterated.
The most subtle arch in Champion’s brow had betrayed his worry.
Now, as they wound between wind-carved rock spires and leaned into sharp curves, Twilight could feel Champion’s restless hands bunching up his jacket. Warriors had insisted that Twilight be the one to take the Master Cycle. That way the others could run interference if needbe, and Twilight could get away quickly if things started to go south.
“We should have visual soon,” Champion advised.
“Will we be able to see it from this high up?” Sky was already craning his neck to try and look out over the summit.
“You won’t miss it,” Champion promised.
As they crested the ridge, the boys had a postcard-worthy view of the great Gerudo Desert below. Golden sands stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted here and there with sparse vegetation, and heat haze obscured the far horizon. A roiling dust storm slowly approached from across the vista and as lightning flashed within it, Twilight heard someone swear in his ear.
Within the storm, they could just make out the silhouette of Vah Naboris. Four long, towering legs stretched up into the clouds several hundred feet above the ground, and most of its body was obscured by the sands that swirled around it. If the impact of each gargantuan footfall wasn’t enough to rattle them at this distance, then the grating metallic sound of its war call would. Red blinking lights dotted each of its corners, green glowed in the seams of its corrugated legs, and lightning arced between the two great domes on its back.
And if the sheer scale of Vah Naboris hadn’t already made Twilight’s blood run cold, its mechanized entourage certainly would. Sunlight glinted off of the Guardian Stalkers that skittered along the sands just outside of the dust storm. They stayed close enough to provide coverage but far enough away that they wouldn’t need to fight the wild winds that whipped around the Divine Beast.
Twilight squeezed the throttle more tightly. Was this a trap?
“Last chance,” Champion warned. His arms around Twilight’s waist stiffened. “They have facial recognition software, don’t forget. If you get caught on camera, you’re dead.”
“And we have helmets,” Warriors reminded him. “What’s the plan?”
Champion’s pause demonstrated his trepidation. “I have to get onto Naboris before she reaches the summit. Once she’s over the horizon, it might not make a difference whether I can immobilize her or not. We’re going to have to get in close.”
“It looks a little crowded down there.” Twilight’s palms felt damp beneath his gloves.
“We’ll keep the Guardians busy.” Sky had pulled up next to Twilight and nodded. “You two -o an— -et cha— -at thing.”
Oh, what a great time to start losing service. Twilight turned toward Sky, shaking his head as he tapped the side of his helmet.
“They’ll cover us,” Champion shouted over the road noise, squeezing Twilight’s waist like he was spurring a horse, “let’s go.”
So the boys sped on, leaning into the curves until Twilight swore he felt the road brushing against his knees. His handlebars vibrated as they drew closer to the advancing mob and the great towering legs of Vah Naboris. The air was getting warmer as they descended the ridge, or maybe Twilight was sweating now for some other reason.
Far below, the first of the Guardians turned its sapphire sights onto the group. A magenta glow spread along its looping seams, and behind it the other units answered in kind. A tide of red spread out from that first Guardian like a ripple through the crowd, and a handful of them broke away to begin advancing toward the boys. They weren’t aggressing yet, but there was nothing friendly about the way that they approached.
The engines on either side of Twilight revved noisily, and Warriors and Sky took off ahead of them. They both reached into their jackets, retrieving some of the gear Champion had divided among the four them. Two bright blue shields bloomed to life, one on Sky’s right arm, the other on Warriors’s left.
Twilight craned his neck to watch the advancing horde, but two hands on either side of his helmet forced Twilight’s attention forward. “Trust them,” Champion’s voice came through his ear buds clearly this time, stern but reassuring. “They have a job to do, and so do we.”
“Right.” Twilight swallowed, tightening his grip on the throttle and rocketing them forward.
As they continued descending the slope, Vah Naboris was truly beginning to loom. The encroaching storm blotted out the sun, and bits of sand plinked off of their helmets and the sides of their bike. Through the wind and dust Twilight could barely make out Naboris’s thundering footfalls; it was easier to feel them than to see them. The Beast approached them head-on, apparently intending to use the zig-zagging road like stair steps to ascend the ridge. One lumbering step could easily squash all of them and their bikes.
Twilight’s heart leapt into his throat as ruby red tracking beams danced along their jackets. Champion remained unphased, setting his hands on Twilight’s shoulders as he kept his eyes on the storm.
“Steady,” Champion warned.
As they zipped around another corner, Twilight struggled to keep his attention focused on the towering Beast. Alongside Naboris, the Guardians were starting to scramble up the ridge toward them. Those Stalkers that chose to go straight up the rock wall had the greatest difficulty; the majority of the machines followed the road instead. They all lagged behind Naboris’s steady upward progress.
Twilight’s balance wavered as Champion tucked his feet beneath himself. “Steady…”
Although they were still too far away to hear the clanging alarms, Twilight didn’t miss it when the Guardians flashed to life. Streaks of white light came bearing down on the boys from the base of the ridge line. As Twilight ducked down, Sky sat up a little taller and hefted his shield. Some of the blasts went sailing harmlessly past the group, but Sky sped up and raised his arm as one came hurtling directly toward the Master Cycle.
Twilight inhaled sharply, ready to shout at Sky to get down, but Sky thrust his arm forward at the last second. The strange blue shield caught and deflected the blast, sending it directly back into the face of the Guardian that had fired it. The machine toppled backward from the force of the hit, its spindly legs dangling uselessly as its power shorted out.
“Focus!” Champion barked.
When Twilight’s attention snapped forward again, he saw that Naboris had set one of its great hooves on the mountainside just ahead of them. A small rock slide tumbled down in its wake. Twilight pulled ahead of the group and braced as he downshifted—
“Guys, duck!!”
Twilight and Champion both turned to see where Naboris’s opposite foot emerged through the sandstorm and sailed much too close overhead. Champion flattened himself down against Twilight’s shoulders, and Twilight grit his teeth as the displacement of air buffeted them from either side. Their bike bucked beneath them as they blindly stumbled over rock strewn across the road. The sandstorm abruptly parted before them to reveal that they were coming upon the next switchback much too quickly — as well as the sheer drop beyond it.
“Shit!!”
Twilight squeezed the brakes to kill some of their speed, and Champion grunted as he toppled forward into his back. Twilight waited until the last moment before wrenching the bike around and hitting the throttle. The rear tire skipped along the pavement and they jolted as they bumped the guard rail, but he somehow managed to keep them from toppling off their bike and down the cliffside.
“Nice save,” Champion breathed, his voice even despite the nervous twitch in his hands.
“Yeah, but we missed Naboris!”
“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Champion reassured, squeezing Twilight’s shoulder, “we’ve got another chance, just keep going.”
Twilight lowered himself against the steering column as Vah Naboris’s belly darkened the sky above them. They’d have just one more shot. He sped forward, careful and quick, ignoring the flashing lights that illuminated the cliffside below them and streaked overhead. The chimes of the Guardians were getting closer now, and the roar of the other bikes rattled in Twilight’s limbs as Warriors and Sky struggled to keep up and keep them covered.
“Steady,” Champion crouched low again as Vah Naboris made its next mammoth stride.
“Here they come!” Warriors warned. Ahead of them, he grunted as he deflected the next blast aimed for the Master Cycle.
Lightning illuminated the clouds overhead, silhouetting the leg that swung down to meet the road right in front of them. “Hang left!” Champion barked, and Twilight veered around the shadow of the Beast’s great foot. As he passed it, he felt a jolt—
And Champion was gone.
When Twilight looked back down at the road ahead of him, everything in him tensed. A swarm of Guardians clogged the road, all of them tripping and stumbling over one another in their drive for destruction.
“On-y chance —s through,” Warriors ordered.
“On me, Twilight!” Sky pulled his bike ahead of the Master Cycle, and Warriors fell in behind.
Trust them. Twilight squeezed the throttle as he barreled forward.
Together, the trio sped headlong into the horde. At such close range, the boys didn’t even have time to raise their shields. They veered around the great metal bodies in a deadly slalom as white streaks cut through the air ahead of and behind them and over their heads. Twilight couldn’t stifle his yelp as one of the Guardians closest to him lurched beneath the strike of another. He struggled to stay focused on Sky’s tail lights, on keeping his balance as his rear tire threatened to slide out on every curve.
And then, just as abruptly as they’d come upon them, the boys reached the end of the crowd. The open road stretched ahead of them like a red carpet.
“We’ll lead them away.” Warriors pulled up alongside Twilight. “Once -e get to a p— -ere we can destroy them or lose them, we’ll go -ack up after Champion.”
Twilight craned his neck and squinted into the storm, watching Vah Naboris climb the ridge above them at a steady pace. It struggled somewhat on the rocky terrain, likely having only been battle-tested on the desert sands. He struggled to make out where Champion was, which leg was it, which leg did they catch up to—
Lightning arced through the sky, lighting up the side of the great machine in brilliant relief.
And there, hanging from the side of one of its legs, Champion dangled precariously, one leg caught in the rungs he meant to be climbing.
“Guys, he’s stuck!!”
Twilight had no idea if his friends even heard him. He lurched forward as he abruptly down-shifted, killing his speed to a crawl, and he set his foot on the asphalt as he wrenched the bike around. The cluster of Stalkers that had turned their deadly sights on the boys was getting closer, and Twilight wasn’t sure he could make it through that crowd twice.
The only way forward now was up.
The Master Cycle’s engine screamed beneath him and Twilight dumped the clutch. He somehow maintained control as the front wheel lifted off of the pavement, and Twilight sped toward the rocky slope at the side of the road. The rockslides that Naboris was leaving in its wake provided somewhat of a path, if unsteady, and Twilight veered toward the nearest one ahead of the Guardians. The group of machines split, the majority of them continuing down the road after Warriors and Sky as a handful of others rushed forward to greet Twilight. His front wheel came down, the chunky tires caught on rocky footing, and now the entire bike rattled beneath him as Twilight lurched up the ridge.
The ground around him erupted as Guardian blasts tore up the earth. Sand and pebbles plinked off of his helmet, his bike, and stung the exposed bits of his skin. Despite that, though, the motorcycle was gaining ground. He pushed the Master Cycle to its limit as he spun his tires, the heat of the motor burning against his shins. Almost there, almost back to the road!!
A shudder crawled up the back of his neck as the blare of alarm bells drowned out even the Master Cycle’s engine. Twilight turned just in time to see the Guardian that loomed just behind him. Its sapphire sights were already starting to swirl and glow. Twilight could do nothing but grit his teeth and brace for the hit.
With a deafening sound, the lens housing burst into a thousand sparkling shards. They glittered in the air for a moment — like sugar, like stars, like pieces of the windshield digging into his arms — before being swallowed up by the storm. The Guardian toppled lifelessly back down the ridge, taking a second one out along the way.
Twilight whipped his head around just in time to see another bike barreling down the road. Although it wasn’t one he recognized, the hulking shadow that sat astride it was very familiar. Time tucked his chin as he revved the motor, speeding headlong toward Twilight with his weapon in hand.
He sailed past without a second look.
“—uys! I’m st-ck!! I ne— -rt—”
But Twilight didn’t have time to think about that.
Once he made it back to the asphalt, Twilight pointed his bike uphill. The wind howled in his ears now as he raced back into the storm. “Just hang on!!” he shouted, “I’m coming!”
On the other end of the line he heard a flurry of rustling, a sharp pop, and then a gentle chime.
He’d been disconnected from their call.
Twilight cursed into his helmet as he craned his neck to look behind him. He didn’t see any sign of Time or of the others. He couldn’t even warn them now. But he had to keep going. He was the only one who knew the predicament Champion was in, and he wasn’t just going to leave him behind.
Without the Guardians on his tail now, he could focus on pursuing the Divine Beast. Through the storm, he could barely make out where Champion still struggled nearly halfway up one of those towering legs. Ahead of him, every long step that Vah Naboris took covered the length of at least two switchbacks. It kept getting further and further away from him no matter how hard he pushed the his bike. Eventually, the top of the ridge line was coming into view.
He would never catch up.
As the plodding steps of the great Beast began to slow, Twilight whaled on the accelerator. He pulled up just shy of where Naboris was getting into position, and he hopped off of the Master Cycle without cutting the engine. He ditched his helmet as he sprinted toward the beast, taking a running leap onto its massive hoof and stretching up to reach the first rungs of the maintenance ladder that was riveted into its leg. Without the Master Cycle’s engine rattling his chest, Twilight could feel just how hard his heart was pounding as he hauled himself up the ladder as quickly as he could.
Overhead, Champion still dangled by his leg, his long hair waving free in the wind. His helmet had been lost somewhere along the way. He was red in the face, and his cheeks were streaked with sweat and dirt. His foot was twisted at such an angle that he couldn’t have pulled himself up without breaking his ankle.
Champion grabbed Twilight’s shoulder once he reached him, and Twilight braced as Champion used the new leverage to push himself upward. Champion made a strangled sound as he freed his ankle, and he clung to the ladder for a moment as he struggled to get his bearings.
“We have to go!” Twilight shouted over the wind.
“I have to get up there!!” Champion insisted, looking up toward where the body of Naboris loomed. “I have to disable the—”
“It’s too late!”
Champion’s eyes were wide and wild as they met Twilight’s. There was something hot and raw in his gaze, something that would have made Twilight shrink back in any other circumstance, but Twilight realized now that Champion’s fury wasn’t directed at him.
“It’s too late,” he repeated, shaking his head, “you said so yourself. Time is here, and I don’t want to hang around to see if he brought any backup. We have to go.”
Coming down from Naboris was much more arduous than climbing had been. Champion made halting progress, letting himself down with his arms rather than putting weight on his ankle, and Twilight stayed close. Once they reached the bottom, Twilight dismounted first, holding out his arms to catch Champion as he dropped down from the last rung.
Champion’s mouth was set in a thin, unsteady line as he glared up at the great machine, then out across their view of Hyrule Field. In the distance, Castle Town was a glittering smear on the horizon. At its center, the castle sat directly in the Divine Beast’s line of sight.
“Come on,” Twilight urged him, “we need to leave.”
Champion’s jaw flexed, his eyes glassy as he stared out across the horizon for just a moment longer. Together, the two of them turned toward where Twilight had left the Master Cycle idling.
And they froze in their tracks.
All along the ridge line, a parade of vehicles with flashing lights approached, blocking their path back toward civilization. Ahead of them, a lonely motorbike rolled to a stop next to where the Master Cycle idled, cutting off their only escape.
Time cut his engine, watching the two of them carefully from a distance as Twilight and Champion hunkered down, hiding like rabbits in the brush. He didn’t bother removing his helmet. Champion’s breath was wavering and unsteady as he watched Time dismount his bike. Twilight, however, felt a new focus sharpening his senses.
“Take the bike,” Twilight muttered without looking away from Time, “and go.”
“What?” Champion turned to look at him with wide eyes.
“He’s after you,” Twilight reminded him, “not me. I’ll distract him so you can take the bike and get out of here.”
The boys watched in terrified disbelief as Time reached into his coat and pulled out his .45. He walked toward the Master Cycle and set his gun against the steering column. When he pulled the trigger, the dashboard of the Master Cycle exploded.
“The Slate!” Champion hissed.
The engine still idled — the bike was still usable — but now their connection to the Divine Beasts and Champion’s Sheikah hideouts was gone.
“He won’t kill me,” Twilight spoke with much more assurance than he felt. He shed his jacket as he glanced down the road to where armored vehicles were bearing down on them. “You have to get out of here!”
There was an uncharacteristic swagger of confidence in Time’s stride as he approached. Although he tucked his weapon back beneath his tattered jacket, there was nothing warm or welcoming in his posture.
“Twilight,” Champion whispered, and hearing his name on Champion’s tongue made Twilight’s chest squeeze, “I can’t leave—”
“Just go!!”
Twilight lunged from behind their cover, sprinting out to meet Time head-on. He shouted as he lashed out with his fists, swinging for Time’s head, his chest, for anything he could reach. Time’s touch was harder than usual as he batted away Twilight’s strikes with maddening ease, but as usual, he made no move to retaliate.
In his periphery, Twilight saw Champion hurry past them both toward the Master Cycle. As Time turned toward him, Twilight took advantage of the distraction. Time’s head snapped back as Twilight’s fist connected with his jaw. The strike knocked his helmet loose, and it smacked against the stone behind him.
Twilight froze as he stood in front of the man, staring wide-eyed at the snarling face of a dragon emblazoned across the front of his throat. Rubies glinted in the sunlight where they decorated his long ears. They matched the one in his tongue that Twilight could see as he grinned down at him with treacherous glee. But for as strange as this dark-haired stranger was, his face was much too familiar, even if his eyes were the wrong color entirely.
His voice, though, was low and sinister as he warned, “Oh, you’re going to regret that.”
Chapter 10
Summary:
In which Dark tries to nap, the Guard boys make a pit stop, and Twilight gets a visit from an unlikely ally.
Chapter Text
It had been a long, long time since Warriors had been in a firefight like that.
He paced briskly back and forth along the side of the road, trying to walk off the pins and needles in his legs. He could hardly feel his own feet. Several yards up the road from them, the last of the Guardians sparked and smoldered, and oil oozed across the asphalt beneath them. Not far away, Sky leaned against his bike, frowning at his phone screen.
Warriors kept his head bowed and his phone pressed to his ear. With his free hand he kept rubbing at the back of his neck, tangling the curls at the very back of his head, pulling on them a little. His hair was damp with sweat. His hair and his undershirt, his jeans, his socks. He was so uncomfortable. He tugged at his jacket, too hot to leave it zipped up but too cold to just take it off. There was sand in his hair. He pressed his nails against his scalp, digging into his skin much too hard, trying to comb out the dirt—
“You alright?”
Warriors glanced up to find Sky watching him cautiously. His fingers flexed as he lowered his hand. “I can’t get in touch with anyone,” Warriors replied as he hung up his phone. “What about you?”
Sky turned his phone toward Warriors, demonstrating the blank, shattered screen. “Just died.”
“Well, better your phone than you.”
“Come on,” Sky shoved the phone in his pocket as he stood, “it’s been long enough, we need to head back up and make sure the others are alright.”
“We can’t.” Warriors nodded up toward the ridge line summit where flashing lights still camped out along the road. “We shouldn’t even be this close, they’re bound to come pick up the pieces of their Guardians eventually.”
“We can’t just leave them, Wars—”
“I know that, but we can’t very well go back the way we came without attracting—”
The roar of an approaching motorcycle interrupted their argument. Warriors was relieved at first to see a familiar silhouette weaving between the trashed remains of smoldering Stalkers. The color drained from his face, though, when he realized that there was only one rider on the Master Cycle this time.
Champion looked shaken. The leg of his jeans was torn, the front of his bike destroyed, his clothes were covered in dirt.
And when he pulled to a stop in front of them and yanked Twilight’s helmet off of his head, Champion was crying.
***
There was no comfortable way to rest at the desk outside the holding cells. Dark tried leaning forward facedown onto the wood, but that made his back hurt after a while. He tried slouching down in his chair, but that gave him a cramp in his neck. He eventually settled on teetering precariously on the rear legs of his chair, his knees anchored under the desk and his head resting back against the wall. The ice pack he held over his eyes doubled as a blindfold, keeping out the buzzing fluorescence overhead.
He never thought he’d find himself wishing to be on the other side of a cell door ever again. At least on the inside, there were cots.
When the sound of heavy footsteps failed to rouse him from his half-sleep, the blaring door buzzer made Dark nearly jump out of his skin. His chair snapped back onto the floor as he caught his icepack in his lap.
“Sleeping on the job?” Time asked as he breezed in like a hurricane.
“I wish,” Dark croaked. Time set down a paper cup of coffee on the desk in front of him.
“How is he?”
“Quiet.” Dark watched as Time crossed toward the observation window. “Hasn’t eaten, hasn’t slept. Still looks mad as hell.”
The holding cells in the belly of the castle were reserved for special political prisoners or those awaiting immediate transport to higher-security facilities. It had taken a lot of throwing his weight around for Time to commandeer a cell where he could keep Twilight safe and within arm’s reach. For all his efforts, though, Time didn’t realize just how pathetic the accommodations were. His observation window was a long one-way mirror behind the desk in the anteroom. On the other side, Twilight sat slouched on the bench against the wall, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. The walls and floor were stark white, the cot pad beneath him was wrapped in gray vinyl, and there was a miserable little toilet in the corner.
Empathy wrung at Time’s heart. Twilight must be exhausted. He should be home, sleeping in his comfortable bed in the safety of the townhouse. How did it end up this way? Time reached for the knob—
“He thought I was you, y’know.”
Time paused, turning toward Dark, noticing the nasty scrape beneath his eye for the first time.
“Until he kicked my helmet off,” Dark added before sipping his coffee. He glanced meaningfully toward the door before looking away.
And we aren’t alone here.
Time turned back to watch Twilight set his face in his hands, pushing his hair back before slumping against the wall. He looked like a coiled spring, his knee bouncing restlessly against the side of the cot. He was still handcuffed, as per protocol. He had cuts on his face, dirt on his clothes, his shirt was ripped and bloodied. He looked like hell.
What Time wouldn’t give to talk with him now, but this wasn’t the time. Not with so many ears around them.
He’d missed that window days ago.
Shame welled in Time’s heart as he let his hand drop from the knob. “The gala starts at six o’clock,” he reminded Dark. “Keep an eye on him until I’m able to arrange some sort of transport to get him out of here. Don’t leave him unsupervised.”
“You got it, boss.”
***
Lon Lon Ranch was a blessedly quiet place. It was far enough off the beaten path that the cheerful chitter of birds and the whisper of wind through the trees drowned out the sounds from the nearest road. It was music to Malon’s ears.
It was so quiet there, in fact, that the approach of motorcycle engines was definitely out of place. Malon had just set about making herself some lunch, humming along to the tune in her heart, when she heard the rumble approaching down the drive. She stepped toward the sink to peer out the kitchen window as three bikes rolled up. One of them she recognized — and knew very well, in fact — although its rider was unfamiliar at first.
As they pulled up next to her farm truck and began pulling off their helmets, though, Malon’s heart sank.
She was out on the porch in an instant, hurrying to cross the yard as Sky helped Champion from his bike. Warriors’s smile was remorseful as he approached her from across the yard. “So sorry to drop in unexpected, Miss Malon,” he greeted her.
“What on earth happened to you boys!?” She gaped as she took in the sight of all three of them in varying states of injury.
“Well we thought we’d take a little road trip but, uh,” he gestured to where Champion leaned heavily on Sky as they limped along, “our friend here misjudged a turn and took a rather nasty spill—”
“I’ll say!” Malon was already fussing over them, wincing at the cut on the side of Warriors’s neck and fretting over the scrape on Sky’s forehead. She didn’t know where to start with Champion, he was just battered all over, and she reached up to clasp his face in her hands before either Warriors or Sky could warn her not to. “Wild dear, you poor thing, are you alright?”
Champion’s fingers dug into Sky’s shoulder as he stared into Malon’s worried eyes, caught like a deer in headlights. Sky tried to be subtle about how he pulled Champion back and away from Malon while Warriors set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Oh we’ve been through worse,” he assured her. “Do you mind if we come inside for a bit to get cleaned up?”
“Of course not!” Malon moved toward the porch to hold the door open for them. “Let’s get you some ice, and I’ve got a first aid kit under the sink…”
Warriors helped Sky and Champion hobble into the house before excusing himself to make a call. He watched from just outside the door as Malon got Champion settled at the kitchen table with his foot propped up on a chair. War’s eyes never left them as he reached into his pocket to fish out his phone and turn it back on. He dialed blindly, and barely a full ring passed before Wind picked up.
“The ranch? Really??”
Warriors turned away from the house, walking back off of the porch and out into the yard. “We didn’t have many options.”
“You know she’s going to text the old man as soon as she’s out of your sight.”
“And I’m counting on you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Warriors could hear the soft clicks of a keyboard in the background. “Whatever.”
He took a moment to stretch, shaking out the stiffness of being on a bike for so many miles. “What have we missed?”
“Same shit, different day,” the speaker crackled as Wind sighed into the phone. “Time’s been at the castle since yesterday. Legend has been pestering me to come out of my room all morning. Hyrule took the day off, so he’s here now too to bug me. Four has barely left the garage. What about you?”
“Fighting robots in the desert.”
Wind scoffed. “You’re full of shit.”
Warriors turned briefly to look into the house again. Champion winced as Malon helped him roll up his pant leg and unlaced his boot for him.
“We’re in one piece.” Warriors pressed his lips together as he began to pace in the yard. “Can you figure out where Twilight is?”
There was unsettled silence on the other end of the line. “He’s not with you?”
“We had an incident,” Warriors admitted. “Can you find him?”
“Yeah, gimme a sec.” The typing on the other end of the line was much faster than before.
Inside the house, Champion sat still at the table, holding his breath as Malon eased the boot off of his foot. Sky stood awkwardly behind them, not really sure what he should do.
“Oh, darlin’,” Malon sighed, rolling down his sock to look at his injured ankle, “that’s pretty swollen. Can you move it?”
Champion wiggled his foot back and forth in demonstration, gritting his teeth as he did. He nodded.
“Here,” she had taken an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it in a dish towel to lay it against the side of his ankle, “you hold this on there for a few minutes. And you,” she stood to begin shooing Sky out of the kitchen, “you better go wash that nasty scrape, I can take care of him.”
“Y-Yes ma’am,” Sky stammered, putting up his hands as he backed out of the kitchen. He and Champion shared a glance before she physically turned him away and directed him up the stairs.
Now that the two of them were alone, Champion sat tense and still. He followed Malon with wide eyes as she crossed the kitchen, running the sink and grabbing a clean dish towel. She was saying something as she did it, going on about reckless behavior, wondering aloud if it was ‘something in the water at that house.’
Champion silently eyed his shoe on the floor as she went on. It was a little too far for him to reach, but if he scooted forward on his chair just a bit, he could grab it and run—
He startled as Malon pulled up a chair next to him, trapping him between her and the table. “Easy, sweetheart,” she soothed him, waiting for the wild look in his eyes to fade before she reached up toward his face. The damp cloth was cool on his cheek, and he didn’t realize how dirty he must be until he felt the scrape of sand along his skin as she wiped it away.
“Now,” she said, her voice low so as not to carry, “are you boys in some kind of trouble?”
Now that they sat so close, Champion studied her face. Although worry creased her brow and drew the corners of her mouth downward, he could see the lines by her eyes and around her mouth where years of laughter and smiles were etched into her skin. Concern darkened her eyes that would otherwise have been the color of the bright blue sky. She looked soft but sturdy, someone who would give the warmest, strongest hugs.
“You can be honest with me,” she assured him quietly. “I only want to help.”
It should be easy to lie. It’s not like he knew this person. She didn’t know him, either, even if he looked like someone she used to know. But each time Champion tried to speak, the words got caught in his throat, clawed back down by something deep and desperate.
By some part of him that never wanted to lie to Malon.
The screen door creaked on its hinges as Warriors burst into the kitchen again. “Sorry to cut our visit short,” he announced, “but I didn’t realize we were running so late.”
“Oh I’m sure you can take a few minutes to clean up,” Malon said, looking up as Sky hurried down the steps into the kitchen.
“Well, it’s kind of important that we leave now,” Warriors hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Twilight is waiting on us.”
Champion straightened in his chair, and Sky’s eyes widened just a fraction as he asked, “Where?”
“The castle.”
“Oh!” Malon’s bright smile was at odds with how the color drained from the other boys’ faces. “Are you all going to the gala tonight for Link’s knighting ceremony?”
And without missing a beat, Warriors shoved aside the anxious tension in his shoulders to turn and smile down at Malon handsomely. “Yes, in fact, we are.”
***
Twilight sat hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He twisted his wrists now and then just to feel the bite of his handcuffs. Next to him on the cot, a small tray of food had long gone cold. He was exhausted but even if he’d wanted to rest, the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead would have kept him awake.
But the buzzing echoing around him was no match for all the buzzing in Twilight’s head. Who was that guy who brought him here? Why did he look so much like Time? The man had insisted upon accompanying Twilight as he was taken into custody by the Sheikah guard; he’d nearly got into a shouting match with some of them over it. He rode in the back of the windowless van with Twilight, and he didn’t take his unsettling eyes off of him until he’d personally escorted Twilight into this cell.
Twilight rubbed his hands over his face, struggling to stay awake as exhaustion pulled at his eyelids. Did Champion make it back to the others safely? Were the others even still alive? He swallowed as the thought turned his stomach. What if the Sheikah guard caught up to him, to all of them? Would they be taken into custody like he was, or would they just be blindfolded and marched out into the middle of the desert to—
Twilight jumped a mile as the door to his cell buzzed harshly. Every muscle in his body bunched up and he flexed his fists, ready to fight or flee. As the door swung open, though, he gaped as someone familiar stood in the doorway.
Oh, he had to be dreaming.
“Midna?”
“Well well, look who it is!” The towering Twili waltzed into the room, looking around with a critical eye. “Wow, when you told me your room was kind of small, I didn’t think it would be this tiny.”
Twilight glanced between Midna and the wide-open door. The anteroom behind her was completely vacant. “What are you doing here?”
“Well everyone’s too busy to watch me tonight, so I thought I’d take a self-guided tour of Hyrule Castle.” She clasped her hands behind her back as she leaned down, examining the meager rations Twilight had been offered with a curled lip. “They don’t spare much for prisoners, do they?”
“Hyrule Castle? That’s where they…” Stunned, Twilight slouched back on the bench until his head thumped against the wall. “What?”
“This is where I’ve been staying while I’m in town. Well, not here maybe,” she gestured around the bleak cell, “my accommodations are a bit more fitting for a foreign dignitary.”
Twilight knew he was sleep-deprived, but he didn’t think he was that out-of-it. “A foreign dignitary.”
“Yes,” Midna replied with an air of distraction, “and a guest of honor at tonight’s anniversary gala.”
“Who I met out at a cheap club in Castle Town,” Twilight deadpanned.
“I was experiencing the culture!” Midna’s sharp teeth glinted as her eyes raked over Twilight’s body. “Taking in the local attractions.”
Twilight swallowed his embarrassment as he sat up a bit straighter. “Listen, Midna, you’ve got to help me get out of here—”
“Oh, do I?” She set her hands on her hips as she leaned over him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I don’t know how they do things in Hyrule, but where I come from, this is a very appropriate punishment for boys who don’t return phone calls.”
Twilight recoiled from her accusation. “You don’t owe me anything,” he admitted, “and I’m sorry I stopped answering your texts. Things at home were getting kind of… There’s been a lot of drama, it’s really hard to explain—”
“Then you’d better talk fast.” Midna folded her arms as she leaned back against the door frame, bodily blocking the exit.
Twilight glanced into the empty anteroom. They might not have a whole hell of a lot of time. He sighed, opening his palms to her as he started, “The day that you and I were supposed to meet up for drinks—”
“The day you stood me up.”
Twilight winced. “Me and a bunch of my roommates got into a car accident that morning and my best friend got thrown through the windshield. He lost his memory — or maybe he regained it? Anyway, I didn’t know it but it turns out he used to be a special-ops soldier in the Royal Guard who’s being hunted by somebody for goddess-knows-what, and the person sent to kill him was actually my uncle, who we all live with. We’ve spent the last two days — Three days? What’s today?? — on the run being hunted down by killer robots—”
“Okay, okay!!” Midna held up her hands. “Gods, you don’t have to make up a whole thing about it.”
“Listen,” Twilight leaned toward her, feeling like he was on the verge of tears, “you have to help me. I don’t know what’s going on, but everyone at the castle tonight is in grave danger.”
“I know, and I among them.” Midna turned to look in the one-way mirror and fuss with her hair. “I’m in grave danger of people knowing that I don’t have a date to the gala.”
“Midna, this is serious!” Twilight stood, gesturing helplessly with his cuffed hands. “People could die—”
“Yes, and I might die from embarrassment.”
He groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. “Look, if you help me get out of here, I swear I’ll make it up to you—”
“Oh, you’re going to.” Midna’s smile was sharp as she turned on him again, and Twilight suddenly felt like a cornered animal. “In fact, I’m more than happy to let you out of your kennel,” she reached toward him, and his eyes crossed to follow her finger as she tapped the tip of his nose to emphasize her point, “but only if you promise to do exactly. As. I. Say.”
Chapter 11
Summary:
In which Legend waits in line, Twilight takes a bath, and Time forgets about texting etiquette.
CW for some mild gun violence in this one.
Chapter Text
“Badge, please.”
Legend shuffled forward in line, two half-steps at a time, looking as disinterested as ever. This was exactly the kind of shit he hated about going to big events like this: being wrangled into orderly lines with all the other concert-goers, searched bodily and tagged one by one, assigned a number like cattle being sent to the abattoir.
“Badge, please.”
Although rather than being in the audience, this time Legend was part of the entertainment. Time had ordered him and the others to stay away from the castle tonight at all costs. So obviously, that’s where they were all headed. Legend hefted his cello case against his back with one hand, reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone with the other.
Legend - 5:15pm
Status?
“Have your bags open and ready for search before you get to the front of the line…”
Another shift, another two awkward shuffling steps forward. Legend fidgeted as the silhouette of Hyrule Castle loomed closer than it ever had. He was getting antsy. He thumbed at the badge around his neck — Four had promised him it would work, he’d better be right — and glanced at his phone as it vibrated in his hand. It wasn’t who he was waiting for, though.
Ravio - 5:17pm
So while your there tonight, how about picking
up some new merchandise??
“Badge, please.”
Legend shoved his phone in his pocket, hurrying to set his cello on the table at the security check. He scanned his badge, relief flooding him when the sensor turned green, and stepped up into the body scanner while his instrument went through the x-ray. He stepped forward, held his arms out at his sides to be frisked with the wand, and moved to get his cello before someone could change their mind about letting him in.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Hyrule - 5:20pm
in position
Four - 5:20pm
Ditto.
***
When Twilight had been taken by the Sheikah guard, he had been treated like a prisoner, but he hadn’t been roughed up by any means. His wrists were cuffed and two people held his arms to support him as he’d crouched into the transport van. If it wasn’t for that dark-haired stranger sitting entirely too close to him on the bench, even the ride back to Castle Town would have been comfortable.
Being taken by Midna was another matter entirely.
She’d whisked him out of his cell and up a back flight of stairs with four silent guards on their tail. The Twili, his mind had supplied as he cowered beneath their intimidating height. Once they had climbed enough flights to leave him winded, the group ghosted down a stone hallway, ushering him into a palatial bedroom with a towering four-poster bed and grandiose wooden furnishings. Two guards remained outside of the bedroom doors, two of them standing just inside the doorway, blocking Twilight’s means of escape.
Midna snapped her fingers as she floated toward the vanity. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get him ready.”
Twilight opened his mouth to question her, but before he could two servants approached from the other side of the room. “Hey!” he tried to argue as they began urging him toward the bathroom.
“Don’t be shy,” Midna assured him as she leaned toward the mirror, examining her brows before picking up a palette of colorful makeup, “it’s just Twili hospitality.”
Twilight didn’t have time to balk as one of the servants grabbed the cuffs around his wrists. They heaved against the metal like one might struggle to open a jar. Twilight’s heart somersaulted as he felt the chain snap. They efficiently stripped him of his clothes and shoved him into the shower, and Twilight made an ungraceful sound as they turned on the cold shower spray. “I can do it myself!!”
Either they didn’t understand him or they just didn’t care. The servants began mechanically shampooing and soaping him up, washing him like an unruly dog. It was a quick, efficient affair, and truthfully Twilight didn’t mind having the blood and grime of the past few days scrubbed away. He was pulled out of the shower as quickly as he’d been forced into it, and he obediently sat on the cushioned ottoman while the servants toweled his hair and began cleaning the dirt from beneath his nails.
“Listen, Midna,” Twilight talked just loudly enough to be heard through the door that had been left ajar, “I’m happy to go with you to this party and all, but I’ve got some other stuff going on—”
“Ohh no,” Midna warned from the other side of the wall, “don’t you even think about backing out unless you want to be marched right back down into that cell, mister.”
“No, no, that’s not it.” Twilight sighed, slouching a bit. “I just… Listen, I’m sorry about standing you up. All the weird things going on at home aside, I really just think of you as a friend, I don’t want you to think—”
Midna barked a laugh from the other side of the wall. “Oh, please! I was asking you to the gala because I needed a date, not because I was interested in you.”
Twilight was handed some underclothes and socks, and he hurried to pull them on. “Then why ask me at all? Aren’t there other people who would want to go with you? Like, other… nobles?”
“Oh I have a line of suitors longer than I’d care to admit.” Midna heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not allowed to go with the person I’d really like to have on my arm for this affair, something about ‘impropriety’ or some such nonsense. I went out that night specifically to find myself a bit of convincing arm candy. I chose you because I thought you’d be a safe option. That and you’re tall enough that I won’t need to bend down much.”
A crisp white shirt was slid up over his arms, and he hurried to button it down from the neck. “Right, well, I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Twilight.”
His butt hit the cushion again with a startled sound as one of the servants began forcing some polished shoes onto him, and he looked up to find Midna looming in the bathroom doorway.
“The night that I met you, you were dancing shirtless with a group of guys.”
“Hey, that’s not—”
“You were the only ones in the club who were half-naked.” She rolled her eyes. “What sort of idea was I supposed to get from that?”
Heat flared in his cheeks as Twilight hid his face in his hands with a groan.
“So!” She stepped into the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind her so that he could see himself in the full-length mirror. “What do you think?”
Twilight had never worn such a formal suit before. The lapels were glossy black satin, the suit itself fine dark green wool. It fit a little snug across his shoulders and the tops of his thighs. What distracted Twilight most, however, was what they’d done to his hair: his bangs were all pulled back and off of his face, secured with an ornate headpiece similar to the one crowning Midna’s hair.
“It’s fine.” Twilight reached up to pull out the metal clip, earning an affronted utterance from one of the Twili servants. He fluffed and fussed with his hair. “How much time do we have?”
“Oh, we’re due down there now.” Midna flung open the door, moving out into the bedroom as she straightened her flowing robes. “By the way, you know how to waltz, right?”
***
One of the things Time hated most in the world were large parties.
Especially when he was the guest of honor.
His wedding had been different. A wedding is more about the bride. It was easy to hide behind Malon’s billowing skirts and the raucous updo of crimson curls piled on top of her head. But here, there was no hiding from the crowds. Between the marks on his face and the bright blue sash across his chest and the crest of the royal family pinned to his lapel, Time was meant to be a figurehead. A spectacle.
“Remember, keep your chin up.”
Ruto’s hand was cool beneath his jaw as she straightened him up to face forward. He frowned into the mirror, dutifully holding out his arms as Rhondson adjusted his coat for him and folded his cuffs just so. But as soon as the tailor stepped away, Time was right back in his phone again. There was more than one reason for his sweating palms tonight.
“If you can’t manage a smile, at least try not to scowl,” Ruto went on, “and don’t forget— What are you doing?”
“I’m handling a situation,” Time replied flatly.
“Put your phone away.” Rhondson snatched one of Time’s hands, threading an ornate emerald cufflink through his shirtsleeve.
“What kind of a situation?” Ruto pressed him, reaching up to straighten his bangs and brush them away from his face.
“Prisoner transport,” Time admitted through clenched teeth.
“Isn’t that something you can delegate to someone else? This seems like a terrible time to be dealing with that.”
“Well I can’t say I planned it like this—”
Just as Rhondson finished adjusting his sash, the door to the dressing room swung open. “We’re ready,” came a voice from the hallway.
“Alright,” Ruto announced, stepping toward the door, “curtain call.”
Time stared at himself in the mirror. “I don’t want to do this,” he blurted.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”
Their walk down the halls took an eternity and yet still wasn’t long enough. Ruto rambled as they went, “It’s only sixty foreign dignitaries and a few hundred guests. The press is limited just to the opening ceremony and to your knighting, then after that the rest of the festivities will be private…”
In the hallway outside the ballroom, a cadre of Guardsmen stood at attention on either side of the hall, all straight and tall with blank eyes facing forward. The queen and the princesses were all already in place. Rather than being in an orderly line, however, they were clustered in varying states of annoyance and concern. On the other side of the great oaken doors, the roar of voices echoed like an avalanche barreling down a mountainside toward them.
“What’s the matter?” Ruto was on high alert immediately when she read the concern in Lullaby’s eye.
Lullaby gestured helplessly toward the throne room doors. “Tetra is nowhere to be found.”
“And we’re surprised because?” Ruto sighed, consulting her clipboard as though this was something she had a contingency plan for.
“She knows how important this is.” Lullaby sounded more exasperated than worried. “Can someone check her room again?”
“We don’t have time,” Ruto insisted. As though on cue, they could hear the orchestra on the other side of the doors beginning the first sharp notes of the Royal March. “I’ll find her, but in the meantime let’s get going.”
Ruto ushered the princesses into place, leaving Time to his thoughts for a moment. He fidgeted uselessly with his cufflinks as he quietly took stock of his surroundings. Four princesses, the youngest of whom was likely hiding away in her room like a child; three attendants straightening the royals’ hair and making them perfect for their public appearance; a dozen Guardsmen standing stock still against the walls like they were just decor, dress uniforms impeccably clean—
One of whom looked awfully familiar.
Time stared for a half-second too long before catching himself and looking forward again. But in his peripheral vision, even in spite of his bangs being swept up under that beret and the band drawn low to his brow, he was certain that was Warriors hiding in plain sight among the honor guard.
Time did not need this right now.
He didn’t have long to contemplate this before the great oaken doors were pulled open ahead of them, letting in a flood of light and sound as the world beyond it came crashing down upon them. One by one, each of the princesses processed into the main ballroom to the glitter of flashbulbs and wavering violins. Time stifled a groan as his phone vibrated in his breast pocket. He pulled it out quickly and glanced at the screen.
D.L. - 6:02pm
Listen I know your gonna be mad but
The kid is gone
Triumphant horns blared from the orchestra as they started in to the spirited March of the Hero. Time stood frozen as an explosion of light and applause heralded his entrance into the ballroom. On either side of him, the hiss of metal unsheathed sent frigid chills up his spine as the honor guard drew their sabres.
For a moment, he wondered if he could get away with running.
“Link!!” Ruto hissed, snatching the phone from his hand. “Go!”
Time’s face felt tight as he tried not to flinch in the face of hundreds of flashbulbs. He kept his attention straight ahead as he marched into the glittering arena, caged in by twelve ceremonial swords and surrounded by a ring of spectators. Sharp smiles decorated the faces on either side of him, the pleasant masks of nobility and nefarious parties alike. Ahead of him, the princesses and their consorts stood in an arc at the head of the ballroom.
The tension in his neck and shoulders relaxed somewhat as he met Lullaby’s eye. Her smile warm and familiar, something to keep him anchored as the world spun around him.
Goddess, he hoped that was really her.
The honor guard came to a halt at the head of the aisle as Time continued his march toward the queen alone. He stopped at a respectful distance and took a knee, clasping his fist over his heart in deference. Lullaby stepped down onto the polished floor to meet him, and when she approached she held out her hand. Bulbs flared in the crowd as he reached up to lay his hand in hers — the gesture of a devoted knight drawing strength from his queen — before rising to his feet again.
As Lullaby took a half-step forward to address the crowd, Time’s attention wandered. He kept his gaze straight ahead as he searched his periphery, taking stock of the room. Waiters and waitresses lined the walls of the ballroom behind the crowds, bearing witness to the opening ceremony before they would be tasked with carrying around trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes. Among them was one diminutive little mechanic who Time barely recognized with his hair tied back. Even more subtle than the waitstaff were the EMS personnel stationed near the far entrance to the room, a small handful of men and women in green scrubs. Time couldn’t miss the curly-headed young doctor hiding among them. And in the orchestra, tucked among musicians dressed in black and waiting tensely for their cue, it wasn’t hard to pick out the one pink-haired cellist among the pack.
Time’s nostrils flared as he took a slow, deep inhale. He did not need this right now.
He turned his attention to the crowd instead. The ballroom was packed with well-dressed observers and dignitaries from nations near and far. Darunia stood at the head of the mountainous Goron Nation, his face painted in the white markings of honor of their people. The warriors of the Gerudo Tribe were as beautiful as they were imposing, Nabooru bedecked in flowing clothes and gold-plated armor that glittered in the lights of the chandeliers. The stately Zora looked on impassively, their toothy Prince Sidon, who attended the event in place of the colossal King Dorephan, standing several heads taller than the rest of the crowd. Nearly just as tall, a very small cadre of Twili were clustered near the far corner of the ballroom, their stately Princess Midna someone Time had only ever seen from afar—
The next wave of polite applause distracted him as the crowd began retreating to the perimeter of the ballroom. Time responded to the cue mechanically. He took a half-step to the side and lifted his arm, offering it to the queen who accepted with gracious poise. The two of them marched out onto the center of the dance floor, the other princesses and their partners trailing behind them like the flowing satin of a dress train. Time and Lullaby stood at the very front of the line, and they paused there as the orchestra started up the lively Hylian Waltz.
Time could feel someone’s eyes on his back as acutely as a pair of knives.
Once he turned to bow to Lullaby and invite her to dance, he tried to be subtle as he surveyed the line of suited escorts to his left. But Lullaby was already laying her hand in his, her satin glove catching on the rough calluses on his fingers. “It’s been a while,” she greeted him playfully as she draped her other arm across his shoulders, “I haven’t seen you in days now, have I?”
The question was sour as it hit Time’s ears. He stiffly smiled down at her. “You must have been incredibly busy.”
“Oh, it’s just the usual,” Lullaby sighed with the same long-suffering airiness she always had when it came to work matters. “Trade agreements, development meetings, choosing which non-profits deserve grants this year, more of the same, really. Truthfully I’m glad to have something like this to break up the monotony.”
“So glad you could be entertained at my expense,” Time replied flatly. It earned him a playful glare in response.
That was a very Lullaby trait, although Time didn’t know what sort of commitment to the role he should expect from a Yiga in disguise.
“You’ve come a long way, Link,” she said before he took her hand and spun her in a lovely twirl. The crowd softly clapped as the princesses returned to their partners, as Lullaby’s skirt tangled about his legs like the material itself was trying to trip him up. “To think, all this pomp for the boy who snuck into the gardens all those years ago.”
He watched her face curiously as they continued their box-step. Only a few people knew how the two of them first met: a skinny little ruffian with dirt smeared on his face crawling up through a storm drain, because Great Deku couldn’t exactly get him a royal appointment. One of those people was Lullaby. The other was Impa, who had been the one to catch him in the act.
Time narrowed his eye slightly as he twirled Lullaby around again to display her grace to their audience. Although that was a tainted bit of information, there were some things from their early days that only the two of them would know. “Well I suppose that a childish mind really can turn to noble ambition,” he smiled warmly as she returned to him, settling his hand at her waist.
The funny look Lullaby gave to him made his heart sink. In their younger days, when she fancied herself a budding young poet, Lullaby had shared some of her writings with him privately. Perhaps she just didn’t remember.
The couples twirled together in a broad circle, the princesses moving with the grace of falling petals as they wound around their partners. Time glanced down the line as the couples moved about the floor, catching Sky’s frigid glare as he did. Ah, so that’s why he felt like he was being watched. Apparently even the noose hanging above his head wouldn’t keep Sky from a date with his Sunny. He could hardly take his eyes off of Time, holding Sun close with a dangerous sort of defensiveness.
“You know,” Lullaby went on, trying to ease the tension in Time’s shoulders with small talk as she was wont to do, “even in spite of how hard it’s been to get here, I hope that you don’t have any regrets. Hyrule is a safer place thanks to you.”
Time’s jaw stiffened. This could go one of two ways. “The path wasn’t easy, you know that well, but I would do it over again as many times as it takes to put a stop to Ganondorf.”
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he felt Lullaby’s nails bite into the shoulder of his coat. “Pitiful man,” she sighed, shaking her head sadly. “He is proof that without a strong, righteous mind, power can be corrosive to the soul.”
Hearing her echo the words she’d said so long ago, as they both stood breathless and battered in the ruins of the former Hyrule Castle, eased some of his worry. But was he really the only one around to hear her say that? Hadn’t Impa been there, too?
The pair lapsed into tense silence as they circled the floor. Lined up along the sides of the dance floor, the honor guard acted as a fence keeping the spectators corralled toward the edges of the ballroom. Although his gaze remained forward and his face impassive, Warriors was on high alert. He counted the exits, struggling to remember which of the twisting corridors of Hyrule Castle would let evacuees out of the building first and which would lead deeper into the fortress.
Warriors swallowed, subtly tightening his grip on his sabre. With so many nobles in attendance and no shortage of choke-points within the castle itself, his stomach turned to think what sort of treachery might be planned for tonight.
The music shifted to something bittersweet as Time turned Lullaby to the side and dipped her over his arm. Her back arched unnaturally in lordosis, suspended in ecstasy or on the verge of death. When she set her hand on his shoulder and regained her balance, she took a moment to smooth out the satin sash that hugged his chest. “I like the color,” she commented, an attempt to try and inject some levity into their exchange.
Time stepped forward as she stepped back, keeping his eye evenly trained on her face as they prowled around one another on the floor. “It reminds me of a gift you gave to me a long time ago.”
“Does it?”
The music began to swell again, the violins shrieking with gaiety or anxiety, the drums shivering like raindrops or like gunfire.
Time’s grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly. “Do you remember what that gift was?”
Lullaby regarded him cautiously, turning her face away just a bit. “Link, why are you acting so strange—”
“I need you to tell me, Zelda.” Now his grip was stern.
“Well you must remember what it is.”
“Yes, but I need to hear it from you.”
She frowned up at him, her eyes narrowed slightly, her nose wrinkled in the way that was undeniably Lullaby. “It was the ocarina.”
Time visibly relaxed, even as his grip on her tightened. Even Impa didn’t know that she had entrusted that artifact to him. “Zelda, something is wrong.”
“Link, what—”
“The castle has been infiltrated by Dragmire informants and spies.” He was talking a mile a minute now, his voice low, his eye scanning the room as they twirled together. “I don’t know how many are here tonight but we should assume the worst. I think we are all in grave danger.”
He felt the tug of her nails in the back of his jacket as she looked over his shoulder. “Who do you think—”
“There’s no way to tell. I know that members of the Sheikah Guard, the Royal Guard, the staff, they’ve all been compromised. And I’m fairly certain Impa is one of them, herself.”
Lullaby kept her placid smile even as her eyes darted around the room with his. “Link, let go—”
“I can’t.” His nostrils flared as he inhaled. “I should have come to you about this sooner, but there was no way to get you alone—”
“No, Link, let go.”
He turned to meet her eye, startled, but his ears picked up on the shift in the music. The tradition during the Hylian Waltz was to cycle through partners after the first movement. And so muscle memory guided him to twirl her once, lifting his arm as he sent her away, catching the flash of nervous blue in her eyes as she moved on to her next partner. And Time turned just in time to meet his own: Princess Zelda Penumbra Nox Hyrule, who went by Dusk.
He greeted her with a low bow. She answered with a formal curtsy. Even beneath her gloves, he could tell that her hands were frigid to the touch.
“Congratulations, knight,” she greeted him cooly. She looked like she’d never smiled a day in her life.
“Thank you, princess.”
“You know, I wasn’t entirely sure why the queen should choose you as her Appointed.”
Leave it to Dusk to cut right to the chase. Even in spite of the fact that Time was meant to lead, Dusk seemed to direct him with her arms as they processed across the dance floor. Her grip was like steel.
“Your tainted reputation precedes you,” she went on. “There are very few who don’t know you as the Fierce Deity of Termina. And for those who don’t,” she looked down at him with a disdainful twitch of her lips, “your scars are enough to tell the tale.”
“And these are still less numerous than those I’ve earned in service to the crown,” Time tried not to show his teeth as he replied.
From his station along the edge of the ballroom, Four didn’t miss how Time’s jaw clenched as he was scrutinized by the tallest of the princesses. He leaned back against the stone wall, feeling the chill of it soak through his shirt against his shoulders as he took in his surroundings. Nobles of all races and regions stood facing the dance floor, their eyes following the ebb and flow of the princesses’ graceful dance as they nodded their heads along with the music.
But not everyone was so entranced. As Four watched, he caught more than a few individual guests glancing toward the entrances now and then, and the occasional Zora who pointedly looked up. He followed their eyes uneasily, watching how the crystal chandeliers hung above the dance floor, opulent and glittering like icicles, heavy and sharp like the blade of a guillotine.
As they made their final turn, Dusk’s eyes sharpened. “To be the Appointed Knight of the queen of Hyrule is to be devoted to her safety every waking moment.” The way her nails pressed into the back of his hand stung even through her gloves. “I expect you to defend my sister with your life.”
Time swallowed, keeping his eye trained on hers. No, the Yiga spies had not gotten to Dusk. “It’s more than a duty, princess,” he replied tightly, “it’s an honor.”
“I should hope so.”
The music really couldn’t have shifted quickly enough. Time sent Dusk along to her next partner, turning away to offer a bow to her much more demure cousin: Princess Zelda Flora Tacita Hyrule. She was several heads shorter than Dusk but in spite of her meek nature, her eyes were bright and inquisitive.
“Congratulations, Sir Link,” she greeted him warmly.
“Thank you, princess.” His smile was a little worn as he lead her across the floor. He hoped it wasn’t obvious to those who watched them just how much he was sweating.
“Is what they say about you true?”
Flora’s eyes were piercing, and Time suddenly felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. “Which rumor is that?”
“Is it true that you fancy my cousin?”
Well that wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. Time’s jaw felt welded shut as he lifted his arm to twirl Flora beneath it.
Even at several hundred feet away, Hyrule could see how the color returned to Time’s face as he and the lovely princess Flora rounded the floor together. He couldn’t see very much from his spot in the corner of the room, but he had to move closer for just a moment, to see what the rest of the crowd occasionally clapped at.
As Hyrule returned to his station, motion far down the southern hallway drew his attention. One of the doors had been left ajar, and he could see a sizable cadre of people dressed all in black moving toward the ballroom. There wasn’t nearly enough room to accommodate them all in here—
Hyrule moved swiftly toward the door, lifting the doorstop and holding the knob so that it didn’t click as it swung closed. His hand shook as he slid the lock into place.
“Is that why you’ve sought to become a knight after all this time?” Flora’s grip was firm on Time’s forearm, she had surprising strength for someone so small. “So that you might have a chance at winning her hand.”
Time’s smile flattened. Even in spite of her regal stature and the grandiose costume of her ball gown, he could still see the child in Flora — the one who had been manipulated after her mother died, when the former prince consort Rhoam sought more power than the matriarchy would ever grant him.
Of course, Flora would be more attuned than most to threats against the matriarchy coming from within their own trusted circles. A spy would not.
“My princess,” Time bowed his head respectfully, “my devotion to the queen — and to you — has nothing to do with personal ambition.”
The bright curiosity never faded from Flora’s eyes. “My cousin thinks very highly of you, and I can see why.”
Something softened in him under Flora’s kind smile.
“I wish you continued health and good fortune, Sir Link,” Flora curtsied to him politely before moving on to her next partner, and Time turned to meet his own.
Princess Zelda Solara Volata Hyrule, perhaps the most beautiful of her sisters, was the crux of the Hyrulean faith. The high priestess of Hylia’s temple was believed to be the mortal avatar of the goddess. She was also a lively young woman, a decorated member of the Royal Guard herself, and the very same ‘Sunny’ that made Sky stammer and blush and rush off to answer his phone no matter what else he was in the middle of.
And yet she curtsied meekly, keeping her eyes on Time’s shoes, and she set her hand in his reluctantly. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, princess.”
Time wasn’t sure what Sky must have told her, but Sun couldn’t even keep it together for pictures. She was hesitant to move with him, muscle memory guiding every step and twirl but fear making her fingertips twitch when Time set his hand at her waist. Time could feel the stab of eyes in the back of his head.
His hand tightened subtly around hers, making her flinch. “Princess,” he asked gently, “is something wrong?”
When Sun lifted her eyes to meet his, they were beginning to brim with tears. As she opened her mouth the music began to swell, drowning out her voice, and Time felt his stomach drop.
Over in the orchestral pit, Legend was sweating. He’d played the Hylian Waltz before, his fingers knew the timing even if he got his position wrong now and then. Every subtle flat earned a not-so-subtle side eye from his fellow cellists. He reached forward to flip to the next section of music, wondering when the hell this was going to be over—
And he caught how the chandeliers shivered and shifted, prisms winking in and out of focus. Beneath them, the four princesses, their escorts, and the soon-to-be Appointed Knight twirled together in the center of the floor, coming together again beneath the largest of the grand chandeliers in the great ballroom.
Legend surged to his feet as the clamor of cymbals erupted behind him, shouting at the top of his voice, “Look out!”
The string section faltered, the ceiling groaned, and like a great whale breaching the surface of the sea, the chandelier plummeted. It exploded as it hit the floor, sending shards of glass and crystal into the air that glittered like ocean spray in the breeze. Startled gasps and screams rang out from all ends of the ballroom, and Legend held his breath.
Instinctively, Twilight took a half-step forward, putting himself between Midna and the chaos. He held steady despite the waves of people that began moving around them, people rushing forward to help those who were on the ground, to lift the great ring of the chandelier off of those who were trapped.
And as the glittering dust settled, he saw Time standing tall in the middle of the floor with Sun tucked beneath his arm. Across the ballroom, shards of glass crunched beneath Sky’s shoes as he barreled toward them, his eyes wide and furious. Time’s eye was focused, his expression unreadable. He clasped the back of Sun’s head as she began to scream, drawing her face to his chest. With his other hand, he reached into his jacket.
Twilight’s blood ran cold as he saw the glint of Time’s .45 being drawn from beneath his coat. He shouted as he started running, but he could barely hear himself over the rising din in the ballroom.
He could do nothing but watch as Time leveled his weapon with Sky’s head and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 12
Notes:
How long has it been since I've updated this story? A little over a year??
Listen, this climax has been a bear to write, and I have no one to blame but myself. I've tried everything: outlining, not outlining, drawing things out, making a post-it note timeline, writing in small pieces, Scene Parkour, and so on.
I recently decided to throw in the towel and enlist the help of two very dear friends and fellow authors whose judgement I trust and whose works I admire. Between their help and the recent influx of excited new HSH fans, I gave in to my own pantster weakness and decided to post a partial update to this chapter. I'm hoping that taking it and releasing it in smaller bites may be the final catalyst I need to make this all work.
CW's include incredibly graphic depictions of violence, character death, CPR and first aid, and a lot of emotions all at the wrong time.
Completed 4/8/23.
Chapter Text
The sound of the gunshot was deafening. Sky’s forward motion stalled, his head snapped backward, and several screams echoed above the growing turmoil in the ballroom. Twilight shouted something incoherent, his voice breaking as Sky crumpled to his knees.
Time took a step back, pulling Sun with him and keeping her face hidden as Sky slumped face-first onto the floor. Blood leaked from his head across polished marble.
Twilight slammed into Time’s back with all of his weight. They stumbled forward into the sea of shattered crystal, but Time stubbornly remained on his feet, one arm wrapped around the princess as he curled around her to protect her. He lashed out blindly behind himself with his elbow to throw his assailant off, and if Twilight had been a half second slower he would have been out cold for the rest of the night. He looped his arms beneath Time’s and struggled to wrench him off of Sun. It was like trying to pry a steel cage off of a bird.
All around them, the ballroom erupted in chaos. Hyrule flinched away from the door he was stationed near as the mob he’d seen approaching slammed into it from the other side. The orchestra pit was an obstacle course of abandoned instruments and toppled chairs that Legend struggled to escape from. Four watched in wide-eyed disbelief as three of the five Guardsmen he stood behind shed their disguises in a burst of Twili magic and turned on the soldiers closest to them, cutting them down with brutal efficiency. When Warriors sheathed his sabre and lunged toward the center of the ballroom floor to break up the fight between Time and Twilight, he was caught up in the tide of panicked waitstaff and foreign dignitaries that began pouring out of the main ballroom entrance in droves.
Twilight planted his feet and wrapped his arms around Time’s middle, ready to throw him off-balance and send him into the remains of the chandelier, but before he could someone’s arm wound around the front of his throat.
“I’ve got ‘im!” called a familiar voice that made Twilight’s back seize. He relinquished his hold on Time, reaching up to wrench the arm away from his neck, but there was no breaking Dark’s choke hold. “Sorry boss,” Dark grunted as he stumbled back, struggling to drag Twilight along with him, “won’t let him out of my sight this time, I promise—”
Unable to break out of Dark’s grip, Twilight instead hauled back and whipped his head directly into Dark’s face. Stars burst behind Twilight’s eyelids as Dark staggered back and away from him, shouting a litany of curses as he held his nose.
Dark’s voice was outmatched, though, by Sun’s scream. Time couldn’t let her go as curved metal whistled through the air over their heads. Impa had closed in on Time’s blind side brandishing a pair of sickles. Her crimson eyes shone with vicious delight in the light of the fallen chandelier. She was relentless in her pursuit, swinging for them faster than the eye could follow. The man who struggled with a waltz twisted around Sun to protect her as metal tore open the shoulder of his jacket and nicked the edge of his ear. Impa chased them with the focus of a jaguar running down its prey, springing forward to hook her weapon around the front of his throat—
And she lurched with a grunt, dropping her weapons as the glint of metal burst through her chest from behind. The sword was much stockier than the ceremonial sabres that the honor guard carried, its blade straight and true, and the cross-guard flared out like wings at the base of its purple hilt. It protected Sky’s white gloves from the blood that poured down the steel as Impa’s disguise started to melt away. The traditional grays and blues of her Sheikah suit melted to reveal the bright crimson and black, the uniform of those worshippers of the Calamity: the Yiga.
Sky jerked his sword out of the imposter’s chest and let her crumple to the floor. “How late am I now?” he sneered, flicking blood off of the end of his sword.
“You’re okay!!”
“I am,” Sky lifted his arms just in time to catch Sun as she ran into him, “I’m sorry, Sunny, I tried to get here sooner…”
Twilight watched, tired and uncomprehending, as Sun’s nails dug into Sky’s dress uniform, pulling it at awkward angles as she buried her face against the side of his neck and sobbed. He looked down at where ‘Sky’ had landed, looking much less like Sky now than he had in life. A set of Yiga throwing knives glinted where his lifeless hand twitched on the floor.
Twilight stood staring just a moment too long, watching the blood begin to pool around his shoes. He was starting to feel dizzy.
All around him, the ballroom was falling apart. Guardsmen and Sheikah continued to shed their disguises, revealing the blood-red uniforms of the Yiga, the hollow eyes of the Twili. The advantage of surprise could only afford them so much grace, however, because the friends of the Hyrulean crown weren’t only allies in times of peace. The ceremonial spears of the Zora were just as sharp and strong as the ones used on the battlefield, and their towering Prince Sidon wielded his Lightscale Trident with brutal skill. He and his personal guard could cut through swaths of enemies with the frenzy of starving sharks. The grace and footwork of the Gerudo warriors was just as deadly. Each time Nabooru would twirl she could strike down dozens of assailants at once with her wicked curved scimitars. The Gorons were deceptively unarmed, but they were also deceptively quick when they needed to be. Goron guards rolled through the crowds, cutting swaths through legions of their enemies with nothing but their own armored bodies. Through the tracks they laid jogged two massive, bloodthirsty Twili hounds that Midna commanded from across the ballroom with sharp words and flourishes of her hands.
But as Yiga and Twili opponents fell, more and more unusual adversaries just kept pouring into the ballroom: pig-faced Bokoblins that communicated with one another in shrill cries and grunts, Moblins that needed to duck to enter through the doorways, and sharp-eyed Lizalfos that skittered across the floor and along vertical walls with unsettling speed. They were the things that Twilight had thought were just monsters under the bed, harmless fairy tale beasts that didn’t really exist. But they were here, and they were very real, shrieking like animals and stinking like pigs, brandishing clubs and spears and bows that weren’t very sophisticated but in the right hands could do some very real damage.
“The doors!!” Dusk, whose voice rarely rose much above a whisper, shouted over the crowds as she alighted on the stage at the far end of the room. She was of formidable height, and those few steps easily put her head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. She hefted a gilded recurve bow, a ceremonial weapon she’d snatched from its place hanging on the wall, and nocked an arrow fletched with gold and white feathers. Sky and Warriors, along with the majority of the Zora and Gerudo guard standing nearby, followed the direction of her arrow, turning to face the new hoards head-on. Dusk let her arrow fly, firing off the next and the next before her first victim even hit the floor.
“Look out, Twi!!”
Twilight turned just in time to see a Guardsman lunging for him. He ducked out of the way of the man’s reach, stumbling to the side and nearly tripping over his own feet. The Guard pursued him doggedly, brown eyes transforming to bright blood orange as his Hylian nose and jawline melted away to reveal the ghastly profile of a Twili warrior, mouth lined with razor teeth like a creature from the bottom of the sea.
Unarmed and panicked, Twilight fled. He ducked and dodged through the crowd, like fighting his way across a packed dance floor, like weaving through the spectators at the Lunar Cycle festival, all the while hearing the clawed footfalls of his pursuer just a breath behind. But he was too focused on what was behind him and not on what lay ahead. In no time at all, Twilight had to lift his hands to brace against the stone wall of the ballroom lest he run into it face-first. Above him, the glittering stained glass window honoring the newest Appointed Knight was flanked with flowers and ribbons.
Twilight turned, pressing himself against the cool stone as the Twili closed in. But before anyone could lay a finger on him, the far-away roar of an engine warned them just a second before the stained glass window above their heads exploded inward.
Twilight lifted his arms as shards of sapphire and emerald and ruby rained down around him. Something heavy and loud barreled directly into Twilight’s pursuer. The Master Cycle snarled as Champion rolled the throttle, twisting his bike around and leaving an ugly smear across the ballroom floor.
Twilight cautiously lowered his arms, new adrenaline and elation dousing him like a frigid bucket of water. “Champion!!”
Champion tore the helmet off of his head and shook out his hair. He looked just as relieved to see Twilight.
But their reunion was short-lived. A wild cry went up across the ballroom, and they both turned to see the massive Goron chieftain Darunia pointing and shouting in Champion’s direction. The tide of the room shifted as Goron guards began barrelling toward them. Champion wasted no time, pitching his helmet off to the side and taking off, leading the Gorons away from Twilight and into the crowd.
Although the ballroom was a flurry of violence, Time’s world was moving in slow motion. He could barely keep his head on straight as he struggled to keep an eye on each of the boys, trying to count them in his head, while digging through shards of crystal with his bare hands. Where is she, where is she?? He and the small number of Guards and attendants that could be spared from the fight were sifting through the wreckage of the shattered chandelier, trying to find their queen. Next to him, Warriors was shouting that they were outnumbered. Somewhere off to his right, Sun was still sobbing. Hyrule was down on his knees tending to the wounded. Four was directing those dignitaries still cowering beneath their chairs toward the exits. He’d lost track of Twilight and Sky in the fray—
There, beneath the largest ring of the chandelier, Time saw Lullaby’s outstretched hand.
He didn’t notice the impact as he fell to his knees, didn’t feel the shards of broken crystal digging into his skin as he crawled through the mess to reach her. Her hand was limp, her body heavy as he pulled her out of the mess and into his arms.
“No no no,” he kept repeating, over and over. Bits of crystal spilled from her hair and the folds of her dress like drops of water, some stained red, running between his shaking fingers as he tried to find the point of her pulse, “don’t do this…”
“Time!!” Sky moved in to bodily block the demon carver that had been aimed at the back of Time’s head. He lashed out in turn with his own sword, pushing the cocky Yiga footsoldier back and deeper into the fray.
“Don’t do this,” Time repeated, supporting her head in his hand like she was a child, like she was a doll. Just unconscious, he told himself, just asleep. It was impossible to ignore the warmth that seeped into his cuff and ran down his sleeve. “Don’t you dare, not this time, I can’t do this without you, please don’t do this…”
“Head’s up!” Dark skidded into place behind Time and lifted the shield he’d pilfered from the wall, shouting as he felt the reverberation of metal-on-metal jarring his arm up to the shoulder. He grunted as he shoved the assailant back, turning to glare down at Time over his shoulder. “Link, you gotta move!!”
She was gone. The realization sank in the pit of his stomach like a rock. He had failed. He hadn’t even been knighted yet and he’d already failed her. Time sank back onto his heels, drawing her into his lap as his eyes began to sting, as something in his chest felt screwed too tight. It was the same as when he’d sauntered into Great Deku’s office so many years ago as an arrogant kid to find him dead at his desk, it was the same as when he’d laughed and shouted into his ear piece that he’s gone, Navi, we did it! only to hear static in return, it was the same as when Malon had turned away and slammed the door on their life together, it was the same as when Wild had opened his eyes in that hospital bed but there was no light behind them anymore.
Time lowered his face until his brow was pressed to hers, damp with blood, his mind racing through all the things he would have done, could have done differently.
He’d failed her.
Surrounding them, the battle raged on, Time’s friends and allies all fighting for their lives against an endless generational feud that he was swept up in when he was much too young to understand the consequences.
He was going to fail all of them.
“Let me see.”
Time jumped at the hand that was laid on his shoulder, feeling like an electric shock raced through all of his limbs at once. It was Hyrule, quiet and calm and intensely focused as he crouched down next to Time, untangling his arms from around Lullaby. Time was reluctant to let her go, uttering a miserable sound that he himself didn’t recognize, but another pair of hands, steady and firm – Four’s hands – helped ease Time’s arms down.
Hyrule first felt her wrist, then beneath her jaw. “Make some space, clear away what we can.”
On Time’s other side, Legend appeared from behind him, using his feet to shove away mountains of broken glass and crystal. Time watched, dumbstruck, as Four stood to help him.
“Let me.” Hyrule shifted forward, reaching out to take Lullaby from him, cradling her head against his shoulder and not wincing at the smear of blood that brushed across his cheek. “I have her,” Hyrule’s eyes bored into Time’s, “you need to go.”
Something about Hyrule’s demeanor made Time not want to question him. Legend hurried to lay down his jacket to protect Lullaby from what small pieces they couldn’t sweep away, and Four helped Hyrule lower her down onto it.
“Four, go find us a Zora that can help.”
“On it.” Bright green eyes scanned the crowd momentarily, and in seconds Four vanished into the fray.
“Is she dead?” Legend shifted uncertainly where he stood beside Hyrule, torn between needing to help and desperately wanting to look away.
“Not until I say so.”
Hyrule interlocked his fingers as he leaned forward on his knees, locking his elbows and rolling his shoulders with a slow, deliberate exhale. Time stared in disbelieving silence as Hyrule began compressions. There was no tremor in the doctor’s hands, no hesitation in any of his directions, and once he began there was no amount of noise or nearby violence that could break his focus.
This was his job.
And Time, also, had a job to do.
“Heads up!” Legend shouted, his eyes focused just above and behind Time.
He could feel and hear the rapid footfalls behind him before he had the chance to turn around. Time pushed himself to his feet, turning just quickly enough to catch when Twilight barreled into Dark like a freight train, sending the pair skidding across the ballroom floor in their direction. Time put out his arms, catching Dark from behind and throwing both of them to the floor before they could trample all over where Hyrule was working to save the Queen’s life.
Dark was the first one back onto his feet. His grin was cocky as he widened his stance, raising his arms and lifting his heels as Twilight stumbled and reoriented himself. There was some feral excitement in Dark’s stare that chilled Twilight to his core, but he was much too angry to back down now.
“This is all your fault!!” Twilight shouted as he lashed out with his fists. But just before Twilight could connect with his foe’s face, Dark took flight. He avoided Twilight’s strikes by vaulting into the air up and over his head, and Twilight staggered to a halt in his surprise. No sooner had Dark landed behind him than he lunged toward Twilight, grabbing him by the arms and trying to restrain him. But Twilight was strong. He twisted in Dark’s grip and drove his elbow into Dark’s ribs, wrenching a guttural sound of pain from him.
Dark stumbled back, raising his forearms to block Twilight’s next onslaught. Bright crimson eyes stayed wide and focused as he hid behind his arms to protect his head and face, but he made no move to strike back. When Twilight hauled back to break through his defense through brute force, he was grabbed by his collar from behind. The material of Twilight’s suit jacket tightened across his shoulders and one of the seams popped as he was yanked away.
Twilight stumbled, turning with all the fire of Din in his eyes, to find Time holding up his hands. “Twilight,” he said, wishing he could better control the waver of stress at the edges of his voice, “it was me.”
Twilight straightened up, taking a half-step back as he stared at Time. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.
“The accident was my fault,” Time said carefully. “I was given a list of targets that included former Guard members and was ordered to eliminate them. I was distracted, I was careless, I had Dark go—”
Twilight’s head whipped around to where Dark stood apart from them, watching the pair carefully. When Twilight turned back to look at Time again, his face was twisted in disbelief. “...What?”
“I had him go in my place,” Time went on, trying not to choke on his words, “and… I didn’t know.”
His voice was low and quiet, like he and Twilight were sitting together at the kitchen table with one another, or sharing a quiet conversation on a pleasant morning jog. But they weren’t. They were in the middle of a firefight, and the entire world was coming down around them.
“I didn’t know.” Time swallowed. He looked like he was in pain. “Twilight, I’m so sorry.”
Twilight was breathing hard around the growing lump in his throat. His lungs were burning, the muscles in his back and shoulders were screaming, and he was hardly able to see Time through the sheen of his own tears. When he dove forward, he knew his hit landed by how Time’s head snapped to the side. Twilight shouted something terrible as he continued to lash out, and he didn’t stop even as tattooed arms caught him around the chest and hauled him backward. Legend lunged forward and grabbed the arms that caged Twilight’s chest, attempting to pry them off as Warriors came in shouting, Sky right on his heels—
“Well!! Isn’t this sweet.”
It took several seconds to break the two of them apart. Time took a few stumbling steps back, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth as he turned toward the entrance to the ballroom. All around them, the fighting and cacophony ground to a halt.
Standing taller than the Appointed Knight, nearly towering as high as the Zora prince Sidon himself, the son of Ganondorf Dragmire was framed in the entrance to the grand ballroom. All across the room, Yiga raised their fists in salute as Twili set a hand over their chests and bowed low in deference. Ganon’s was the menacing profile of a Gerudo prince, his face looking like it had been hewn from the stone of the Highlands themselves. He wasn’t dressed for the coup he had organized; he wore the dark suit of a politician accented by the traditional accents of his tribe, heavy gold collars and long, draping sleeves with a lively pattern embroidered in the lining. Crimson curls were pinned in place by a sharp diadem that looked more like a weapon than a crown, and a bright yellow jewel adorned his forehead, emphasizing the dip of his brow as he spoke:
“I do so love a last-moments confession.”
Twilight stumbled out of the others’ arms as he regained his balance, exchanging wary glances with his friends. He’d seen the man’s photo on the news, he’d heard the stories – at least those known to the public – but he’d never in a million years imagine that he would find himself face-to-face with a bloodthirsty warlord.
Time took several steps forward, putting himself between the boys and the looming threat. Dark fell into place on his right just a half-step behind, his fingers flexing restlessly at his sides. The Master Cycle rolled through the broken remnants of the chandelier to block the boys from the left and shield where Hyrule was working from view. Champion wasn’t one to betray his nerves, but even he looked startled by Ganon’s appearance.
“The irony that you’d choose tonight to show your face here isn’t lost on us.” The crowds parted as Dusk strode forward with all the grace of a monarch despite the blood spattered on her skirts, taking her place opposite of Ganon across the room. “How bold of you to set foot in the place where your father failed over three decades ago.”
“I’d heard that the reconstruction of the glorious Hyrule Castle,” Ganon spread his arms to encompass the room, much of its grandeur already in ruins, “was supposed to be a celebration of unity, attended by foreign dignitaries from all of Hyrule’s neighboring provinces. But as the King of the Gerudo, I somehow failed to receive my invitation.”
“The disgraced king of the Gerudo has no place here,” Flora countered, stepping up next to her cousin. “The Gerudo have been a peaceful matriarchy for generations now.”
Ganon scoffed. “The matriarchy has been struggling to cultivate the dead lands we were banished to centuries ago, to create something out of nothing. They forget their lineage, their birthright, and they bring dishonor to our ancestors.”
“To forgive old grudges is no dishonor.” Nabooru was flanked by a pair of much taller Gerudo guards as she approached from the northern side of the ballroom, brandishing a pair of stately scimitars. “Din’s power formed the earth for all people. The Gerudo have embraced our role as stewards of Hyrule and work alongside the Hylian crown to promote the greater good for everyone, not just one man who considers himself a god.”
“And who does this ‘greater good’ benefit when your own people suffer and starve?” Ganon spat. He strode toward the center of the room, commanding the floor as he raised his arms and addressed the crowd, “Brave men and women who serve Hyrule! Tonight you bear witness to one of the greatest moments in our long, bloody history. The Hyrulean crown claims to unite the peoples of your nations in the name of peace. They demand your compliance in furthering their political agenda, they sap your resources to redistribute as they see fit, and yet only the members of the Hylian royal family — those who can supposedly hear the words of the goddesses — have ever held the crown. They keep all of us under their thumb,” yellow eyes found where Sun stood among the crowd, “in the name of their own self-proclaimed ‘divinity.’
“And what good do they do?” Ganon’s face twisted into an ugly snarl. “The Gerudo are relegated to the barren desert, a place for prisoners and exiles. The Twili still dwell in dangerous lands as punishment for sins of a long-forgotten past. The Sheikah are kept as loyal dogs, and those who dare to defy the royals’ will fill your prisons to capacity. All while these fair-haired servants of the goddesses,” he gestured blatantly toward Time, “dance and drink and award themselves useless titles, all while my people starve.
“But no longer will we merely fold and suffer! No longer will we allow our children to suffer! And no longer,” Ganon’s teeth glinted as he leveled Dusk with a snarl of disgust, “will we be subjugated by those who denounce violence publicly from a throne built on the remains of my fathers.”
There was a shift around the room as Ganon’s forces began moving away from the exits and deeper into the room, corralling its occupants. “You divided the Gerudo and turned us against one another,” he went on, “and so the Dragmires have betrayed you in kind. For every trusted member of your staff and guard, two of my people have taken their place.”
All around the room, those few Yiga or Twili who hadn’t shed their disguises let them fall away. Warriors took a subtle step closer to Time’s side, already counting their numbers in his mind.
“You have bolstered your army with automated defenses,” Ganon continued, “but even a machine can be programmed to betray.”
The familiar sound of whirring motors and clanging footfalls set Twilight on edge. It wasn’t until they began physically lumbering into the ballroom that the others reacted to the four massive Guardian Stalkers that squeezed through the southern halls.
“And even those contributions from your surrounding provinces, Vah Ruta and Vah Naboris, are now under my control, thanks to my intrepid little soldier.”
As though on cue, what light filtered in through the ballroom windows became a bright blood red. An unnerved gasp went up from the crowd. Flora clutched her hands to her chest, Dusk’s eyes widened somewhat although the frigid glare never left her face, and Sky swore under his breath as Sun took his hand and nervously squeezed.
“Well shit,” Dark muttered, begrudgingly impressed. Time’s shoulders rose and fell as he drew a long, slow breath.
“You can choose to fight all you’d like against my ground forces, or you can do the reasonable thing for the ‘greater good’.” Ganon plucked a champagne flute from one of the abandoned waiters’ trays as the crowd whispered uneasily around him. “Surrender the crown to me or I’ll annihilate the castle and all the buildings and neighborhoods surrounding it.”
“You would target this place while you’re in it!?” Dusk sounded shocked.
“There is a reason I will succeed where my father failed.” Ganon turned away from the ballroom, lifting his flute in a mockery of a toast. “You have one hour.”
As Ganon made his exit, the chaos in the ballroom broke out anew. A massive surge of bodies moved in the direction of the chandelier, both those trying to get to the fallen queen and those trying to avoid the massive Guardians. The Gorons were the only members of the crowd strong enough to keep the Guardians physically at bay for the time being. The fearsome Gerudo appeared to take pleasure in hunting down the Yiga, targeting them specifically and bringing their numbers down with terrifying speed. The Twili were matched in menacing height by the Zora, who had come prepared with silver spears of their own and whose skin was tough enough to not be phased by the bite of sharp weapons. That left the remaining Guard members – shaken, their numbers reduced considerably – to address the literal monsters that Ganon had scraped up from the pits of hell.
Standing in the center of it all, Time felt like the world was moving in slow motion. There were too many moving parts, too many things going on at once, and there was absolutely no way he could direct any of this the way an experienced Knight should. He stood staring into the middle distance as alarms blared around them, as the chaos brought in by the Dragmires continued to unfold.
He wasn’t built for this. He wasn’t cut out for it in the slightest. Time was a solo operative, a secret weapon, never meant to lead but made to strike from the shadows like some ugly, venomous thing.
He had no idea what to do.
“Sky!! Legend! Medivac!!”
To his left, both of the boys raised their heads to the shout of Warriors’s voice. Sky gave a quick nod of acknowledgement as Legend’s face twisted in consternation. “What the hell does that mean?” he started to shout before Sky grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of sight.
“Champion! Hey!!”
Time turned around to find that Warriors had taken to the stage where he could survey the battlefield and help direct it. Wars was waving his arms overhead to catch Champion’s attention, and the Master Cycle sent bokos scattering as Champion pulled up alongside the stage.
“Link! Heads up!!”
Time turned just in time to raise his hand and catch the weapon Dark had tossed to him. “Saved the biggest one for you,” Dark grinned, his ruby eyes glinting with a dangerous sort of mischief. “Think we should do a little crowd control?”
Up at the stage, Champion had relinquished the front of the saddle to Twilight at Warriors’s direction so that he could take the reins of the Master Cycle. “Wait a minute,” Warriors set his hand out to have them hold as he rose to his feet, calling out over the crowd, “Time?”
Surely, the helical sword was just a prop, a decoration. It looked like something out of a fairy tale as Time tested its weight in his hands, crafted in two-tone metal with a blade nearly as long as Warriors was tall. But Time could wield it effortlessly with a two-handed grip. Warriors sucked in a breath as Time hefted the weapon back behind his shoulder and twisted around with it. He could see just how far Time’s mask had slipped, and there was no emotion in his two-eyed stare.
Because where Time wasn’t enough, the Fierce Deity would always step in and take over.
Warriors cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted to the ballroom, “Everybody get down!!!”
When the Deity swung, the weight of the blade itself carried him forward. He pivoted on his ankle and let it continue pulling him in a controlled spin, steering himself away from the stage and the chandelier and instead carving a line straight through enemy ranks toward the doorway through which Ganon had disappeared, laying waste to whatever was unlucky enough to remain in his path.
Twilight was caught between staring and knowing that he should really, really look away. Warriors didn’t outwardly react, although he paled as his mouth worked, trying to find words. Champion watched the scene unfold as he settled in behind Twilight, pulling a strange metal weapon out from beneath his jacket.
When the Deity finally put down his foot to stop he crouched forward, the helical broadsword coming to rest over his right shoulder. Behind him, Dark ran through the swath he’d cut down. “Now that’s more like it!”
“Where will you be, Wars?” Champion asked, startling both Warriors and Twilight back to the present as he clicked a trigger on the weapon’s side, causing an odd-looking bow to unfold in his hand, its limbs glowing the same bright blue color as the Guardians’ eyes.
“I have to manage that,” Warriors said through his teeth, leaping off of the stage and running through the crowd to follow Dark and the Deity into the castle.
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