Chapter Text
It is night when Vio comes to. The sun is a sliver on the horizon, and the doctor frets around him. Unsure how to treat someone who is just an errand boy but carries the same blood as Hyrule's royalty. Head physician Colita has treated him before, but the awkwardness of the older woman will never leave – her eyes fretting when he stumbles out of the cot, mumbling about overdue chores.
She urges him to rest, unaware of what will happen if he gives in to her medical advice. Only her slip of what happened to him forces him to calm down and thank her. Niss Colita did not have to go out of her way to treat him. It is nice of her.
As Vio asks who brought him to the infirmary, she tells him with a cup of tea in her hands that one of the new hires helped him here. When Vio finally leaves the health wing with a clean bill of health, he grumbles under his breath while walking up the steps. No doubt Sheik disguised themself and made sure Vio got his rest by bringing him here. She is tricky like that. Such drastic measures are unnecessary. Vio does not know what goes through Sheik's head to resort to such a risky action. Vio will have his words when he sees them again – whenever that is—knowing the Sheikah spy that could be anywhere from tomorrow to several months. But how will he explain that he got pushed out of a window? Sure – it can happen, but why is the biggest question. Most likely, the king will interpret it as him pissing someone off and seeing it as a proper punishment while heaping up more chores for him to do just because.
It is a shame, Vio thinks as he nears the royal wing. He wanted to talk to Green before going to bed. But that is not an option anymore. He will have to try and catch the knight tomorrow. Despite being prince Red's bodyguard – nobody but blood relatives are allowed to enter the royal hall. Not even the king's yes-man of an advisor is allowed to be here. Yet, Vio is.
One could mistake the exception for kindness. For Vio's father to still consider him his son even if he is not allowed to acknowledge it. However, that is not an error Vio will make. His father used his 'special' status to make a mess of his room and make him clean it up. Back when they were younger – if Red's room was messy, Vio would end up punished. He remembers resenting Red for not cleaning up after himself - among other things. However, a messy room is the one thing that stands out. His little brother started to clean up after himself when he became a teen, and Vio never had to worry about coming into Red's room and worrying if a tornado came by.
Vio supposes he should feel happy. Red learned to be tidy. But he is too tired to reminisce and drags himself to the crown prince's bedroom.
Being seen with Red will send alarm bells inside his father's head. Yet, the king is dead to the world at this time. Either it is because he is an old man who cannot stay up past ten, or the liquor did him under. Whatever the reason, Vio does not have to worry about being seen.
Almost there, Vio reassures himself. One more bend, and I can wish Red goodnight and finally sleep. Vio yawns in his fist. He might have been unconscious, but blacking out and rest are not the same thing. He feels more tired than if he had just worked up until now. He does not remember a time before that he was this drained. Oh well, that does not matter. He shrugs.
Vio rounds the corner and comes to Red's door. The chamber's doors are tall and carved, with many stories of holy princesses and knights saving them. Of the kingdom flooding, of a heroic beast and a kingdom split apart because of a broken triforce. It is not the detailed carvings that catch his attention, though.
Blue is standing guard at Red's door – in a hall notorious for kicking out newbie maids for wandering in here and stripping them of their dignity for disturbing the peace. So what is the Dark World's miry bog is Blue doing here?!
Oh no, is this a rookie thing? Does he know he is not supposed to be here? Vio wonders with a crack in his calm façade. He hastens his step. He may not care much for the knight, but he will be damned if he lets someone dear to Green get booted for a simple mistake. Golden Goddesses, Green – why did you not tell him?! Vio curses inwardly. Usually, Green is so responsible even Vio rolls his eyes at his mother henning. How could the knight have made such an oversight?
Blue looks up. A scowl greets Vio, and no doubt, a blistering remark waits on Blue's tongue. But when he looks at Vio, his eyes widen. Blue is surprised, to say the least.
"And the brother arrives. You're lat – Wait! Vio, are you okay? You look like death warmed over."
"Yes, Blue, shout it a bit louder, will you?! The whole castle has not heard you yet!" Vio whisper-screams, flapping his arms to indicate the entire palace – as if he could hold the courtyard and the castle in his arms.
Blue's worry instantly melts into fury, nostrils flaring. His face is so much more expressive without his helmet.
"Hey! I'm only showing you concern over here," He bites yet takes a step back. Then, to Vio's shock, he calms down. Well, as calm as someone with a bitch resting face can look, "The hell happened?"
Vio sighs, running his hand across his face. He must look horrible if someone like Blue is worried about him. He has not known his brother's new bodyguard for long, but he can tell that much more is hidden behind that gruff and cocky exterior. Green helped him see that from their brief exchange in the gardens, and he has faith in Hyrule's order of knights thanks to Roril, Green's father. That man does not go around knighting people callously.
"Sheik happened." Blue's eyes light up in recognition.
"Ah, Green told me about them, but I haven't met her yet," His brow pinches. His expressions are as readable as an open book. Vio has a hard time believing Blue can keep secrets with how expressive he is. He can see why the king would hire him, but he is sure his father does not have the foresight to execute such a terribly good plan.
"I thought you two got along? Greeny said you guys are like brood cuckoos – always having each other's backs." Greeny? Vio muses, filing that bit of curious information for later. That is Red's nickname for Green, but if Blue is using it…
He chuckles. It resounds hollowly in the halls. Blue looks put off by Vio's sudden crazed look.
"Do not be fooled. He does not hold back when they put their mind to something." He shakes his head, "A piece of advice, Knight Blue – never turn your back to her." Blue blinks, looking uncomfortable as his eyes look anywhere but at Vio. Maybe to look for Sheik – who knows. Vio is too tired to care.
"Uh, okay?"
Vio bobs his head sluggishly. Yeah, he did his job. His nose wrinkles. His tongue feels like lead in his mouth.
"Great – goodnight and pleasant dreams –"
"Wait, Vio – I have to tell you something. It is about your da-"
"I said goodnight!" Perhaps it is unfair of him not to warn Blue of his mishap, but Vio wants to get this over with. He will tell Blue when he leaves Red's room. It is not like his father will suddenly wake up to see the guard outside Red's room. Blue is safe as long as Vio remembers to warn him when he goes off to bed. Hopefully, talking to Red will calm him down. It is a coin toss-up as his brother makes Vio want to hold him close and simultaneously rip his hair out. Yet, even if he were furious at him – he would never go to sleep without saying goodnight. He would never do that to Red.
Vio does not bother knocking, opening the doors and slamming them in Blue's face. He can hear the telltale sound of a hissing tea kettle and smirks. Fortunately, he is not tired enough not to find joy in being petty.
Red's room is as he remembers it from last night, the night before and ever since he could walk and greet his little brother in his crib. Spacious, honey-coloured walls with rich, expensive red fabrics that match the crown prince's warm demeanour. The crystal chandelier shines its soft light down onto the room, and the plush rug – an heirloom – is heavenly against his worn feet. But, unfortunately, his boots are not the best, and he pulls them off at the door. A habit turned into a custom.
On most nights, Vio would reminisce about the memories this place holds. Let his eyes trail over the carvings and painted walls of princesses and queens long past, bringing fortune to the holy kingdom of Hyrule. This room is reserved for the heir to the throne. The late queen, until she married, used this room, her mother used this and so forth. History rests within these walls, the crowning jewel on top of a long spiralling tower overlooking Castle Town and the rest of Hyrule from the high peaks of Gerudo Highlands to the desolate volcano of Death Mountain.
But this is one of those nights when he does not give a shit. Frivolities be damned! He just wants to wish his brother good night and sleep for a hundred years. He knows he does not have that luxury but goddesses, he can dream!
But Vio whips his head around, trying to spot his wayward brother. Red has to be here. Otherwise, Blue would not be. Although his bodyguard is not supposed to be in this wing in the first place, Blue's presence would make less sense if Red were not in his bedroom.
Unless... Vio pales. Red snuck out – again. He curses under his breath. Hylia godsdamm-!
"Vi!" A sudden movement catches his eye. He is too sluggish to react and only croaks when hit by a body denser than his.
"Gwah!" The noise that leaves Vio is undignified, but he likes to think he would be forgiven for making it when tackled to the massive canopy bed in a combination of a bear hug and a chokehold. His stomach lurches and his hackles rise, panic chasing away the lead in his bones.
The adrenaline fades as soon as the scent of apple and cinnamon hits his nose – Red's favourite dessert ingredients mixing to create a pleasant perfume.
Red. Vio sighs, wrapping his arms around the comforting warmth of his brother. He knows he should have comprehended it was Red as he is in his room, but his head is a jumbled mess.
"Vio, I am so happy you're here! I didn't get to see you all day. What happened? Did someone attack you?! Did something like that happen?! Did it?!" Red rambles, shooting questions left and right. Vio pats Red's head. Good old Red. Vio can always rely on his brother to be spontaneous. The familiarity is soothing.
He dislodges Red's hold on him, ignoring the whine from his brother and sits upright, taking in the face of the reason his life is not complete hell.
Red pouts, but he brightens and sits back on his knees, plastering a broad smile on his youthful face. It is hard to imagine that his little brother is an adult now, but when he looks, he can see that the baby fat of his cheeks has receded into a sharp jawline. Red's eyes are still big and bright but contain a sharp edge. The unpolished rock of childhood has sanded into smooth stone, shining with hints of his youthful optimism that hopefully will never leave.
"The dinner party was so boring! You probably heard it from Sheik, but eugh! I just turned eighteen – why is everyone so obsessed with me finding a spouse now?! I don't understand, Vio! Bleh! Impart your wisdom upon me! Although, at least we had apple strudel as dessert, that was nice. And, and-!" Vio lets Red talk, happy to let him prattle as his mind wanders. Vio's attention span shrivels, and it dies a sad and pathetic death.
Red is still in his princely uniform. How long ago was the dinner party? Or did his brother get distracted and forget to change out of his clothes? With Red, there could be a million and one reasons why he is still in that uncomfortable getup.
The outfit is similar to the royal guard uniform with its red and blue colour scheme, long white gloves and golden epaulettes. However, the king decided the outfit needed to be more extravagant to differentiate the prince and the highest-ranking guardsmen in the country. The top coat has tails with a wing-like slit remincent of their goddess's crest. A sash runs across Red's chest as a golden twine belt holds it together. Unlike the royal guard's black tights and white boots, Red white pants surprisingly have no hint of dirt or food stains. Red must have put them on the right before the dinner party, Vio notes. On a regular day, Red does not wear this assemble. This outfit is only used on special occasions like holidays, Red, and the king's birthday. So what happened at that dinner party that their father had to bring out all the stops? Did his right-man offend the Zora's that badly today?
Vio opens his mouth but clicks it shut. No, never mind. He does not want to know. If something catastrophic happened, he would know it by morning. Gossip flies airborne like the plague around here. It is unavoidable.
Vio is so lost in thought he only starts paying attention when the back of his head hits something soft. Vio furrows his brows, emitting a confused 'huh?'. Then, finally, he peers up, meeting Red's gentle gaze. His brother smiles, but his smile is filled with worry. Yet Red's poker face has gotten a lot better throughout the years, Vio has to try to see past the wrinkles of his grin to see the lines of concern.
"What happened, Vi? You look like you got run over by Ordonian goats." Red asks, calm now that he has gotten the energy out of his system. His hands card through Vio's hair, drawing his older brother closer against him so that he is more comfortable. Vio wants to protest. This is no way a prince should treat his lesser! But he is too exhausted to care, and he recognises Red's hold on him. If he tries to move, Red will forcibly drag him back down. Where his little brother suddenly got the strength to overpower him has his mind boggled. Where did those days go, he had to carry Red and wrestle him into presentable clothes? When did Red get so strong?
Vio sighs into his younger brother's touch. Red grew up, that is what he did. Vio is unsure of how to feel. This bittersweetness takes hold of his every sense. Is this how parents feel when they realise their children are old enough to set off and be independent? They have no choice but to wait for that inevitable, 'I don't need you anymore. Or a least, not in the way you've been doing for years up until now.'
No, Red still needs him. Vio fights back against his thoughts. He can rest assured his help is worthwhile. Vio may bemoan his chores and how the king treats him, but what is he without Red? What purpose doe he have beyond shaping his little brother's legacy? Vio is nothing without Red's light to cast his shadow.
Vio's fingers clench against the satin sheets. He tries not to think about it too hard.
Vio smiles with naked teeth. Red's eye twitches, regretting he asked before Vio opens his mouth.
"That is one way to describe it. Say, Red, have you ever been defenestrated out of a two-story building?"
"Uhh…., no?" Red answers carefully as if Vio will demonstrate what he means by that despite how tired he looks. With the nature of their relationship, it is not easy to gauge whether Vio will do that. Despite how level-headed his brother is, Vio has a secret mean streak. He will chuck Red out of the window if Red pushes him too far.
"Well! Let me tell you this! There is nothing like getting defenestrated when I'm running on only two hours of sleep. So how are you doing this fine eve, my good brother?" Vio giggles hysterically. Red's frown deepens.
"Uh, you only slept two hours last night?" Red cautiously untangles Vio's knots. His brother is so lost in explanation that he does not bother swiping at Red's fingers to stop him.
"Hmm~! Try again!"
"…you only slept two hours this week!" Red yells, quieting himself as he remembers who is standing outside. Vio grins. If Red did not know him so well, he would say the sharp smile looked evil. But his brother just has one of those faces that looks like he is plotting your demise. Well, most of the time, he is. But Vio is a good guy. He always has a reasonable explanation for the things he does, even if they are a little underhanded sometimes.
"Bingo! A gold star for you! Your royal lessons are paying off!" Vio hollers. Red sighs. Vio's ears perk. He recognises the sound, it is the same sigh he exhales whenever he is done with Red's antics. Has he gotten so bad that Red is copying him? Vio winces. Oh, that smarts.
"Vio, you need rest."
"Hmm, you sound like Sheik." Vio blanches, doing a little 'mi mi mi' at the end of his sentence. In the back of his mind, he recognises he sounds childish. But it is not like he cares. All of his energy goes into being lucid. Vio has no power left to spare for his usual filter. If Red were to ask him anything, he would answer with nothing but the truth.
Vio swallows, reigning back a little. Ok, yeah, that is not good.
"That is how you know this insomnia has gone on for too long." Red gently admonishes, gathering Vio's sandy blond strands and searching for the remaining knots. He nods appreciatively when he finds none.
"Ha! You say that as if I choose to stay awake." Vio grumbles, bitter. The high of irony slips from his fingers, and he plummets back to the ground of reality. No sleep means being less productivity, which means more punishments which in turn goes into even less rest. It is an endless and painful cycle. The hardest part is, unlike solving a riddle or finding the correct person to make things work in his favour – he cannot do that here. He is all alone on this one.
"I'm not saying you do." Red sighs again, "Goddesses, what am I going to do with you?"
"Hmm, what?" Vio murmurs, his eyelids closing for a second too long. Red blinks, a bright idea popping inside his noggin.
"Nothing!" He quickly answers, abandoning his hold on Vio's noggin to pull off his gloves. He resumes his activity but with more enthusiasm than before. Scratching his fingers nails along Vio's scalp as he picks strains apart in a diligent manner.
Vio raises a brow but sighs, leaning into the treatment. The sensation is too lovely to question his brother's odd behaviour. The fact that Red sounds just like him tells Vio enough of what he needs to know.
Vio clicks his tongue. He is being a terrible brother.
"You should give yourself a break, Vi. You're tearing yourself apart." Red says, repeating his sentiment. Vio snorts. It is an old argument he has fought with Sheik, Green and even Roril – Green's father from time to time. But coming from Red, it always hits harder. For the longest time, Red was the only person he could trust. To have him worrying over him is his job. It is shameful for his young brother to have to worry about him.
"I know," Vio whispers, the bags under his eyes rimming his eyes like kohl. He stares into Red's eyes, ice blue eyes meeting baby blues, "I know. But I can't. I can't."
"Hmm." Red hums. He does not respond, focusing his efforts on plaiting Vio's hair. The silence should be chafing, irking his workaholic mind. But Vio finds peace in the quietness. He knows he acts like he does not like it, but he enjoys it when Red plays with his hair. It is soothing and makes him feel special. He knows he is not worth anything, but Vio can pretend he is for one moment.
His breath evens, the wild thumping of his adrenaline-fueled heart slowing down as he finally accepts the softness around him. The safety of being in Red's room. It will not be safe in the morning when the king will undoubtedly check on Red for the one fatherly duty he does without prompting. But at this very moment, Vio does not care. Vio melts under Red's fingers, eyes fluttering shut at the warm and familiar presence of his one true family. His exhaustion takes hold of him, and he is sound asleep within seconds. Impossible to awaken as days of unrest catch up with him.
Red smiles. It is genuine compared to all the fake smiles Red gives to the nobles, the court their father and the dignitaries. He keeps braiding, fluffing the pillows and sheets and lets the moment be. It is the only rest they both receive from their busy lives.
"Sweet dreams, dear bother o' mine. May Hylia bless the next morning with her gentle light."
"Vio, Vio, wake up!" Vio's nose scrunches, the taste of bitterness meeting his tongue. I forgot to brush my teeth before going to bed. He smacks his lips, turning away from the voice. Shit, it tastes awful.
"Come on, Vio. This is the one time not to be asleep. Shit! This is urgent. Fuck." The voice is familiar. It is not Red. Otherwise, he would have shot up with worry by now. Or hit him over the head for cursing. He does not care much for swear words. Hell, he lets some of himself loose. But as the crown prince, he must make sure Red does not blurt out those nasty little words during high-stress situations. It could reflect poorly on him. Plus, he raised Red. So he better not curse in his presence. Unless warranted, he is not a complete stick in the mud.
But Vio cannot place his finger on it. His surroundings are too soft to give them up for the harsh and sad reality he finds himself in day and night. He wants to sink in deeper and never wake up again, let the shadows burn out the light, and forever shroud his world in darkness.
But Vio does not have that luxury. Instead, he is yanked away from his comfortable sleep and forcefully put on his feet before he can even utter a sound. He tries to, forcing the black spots from his vision as good old adrenaline kicks in. The feeling of being rudely awakened by a rough hand flares his brain, recalling times he wishes not to remember.
"Wha-!" A hand clamps over Vio's mouth. It is familiar, so his senses relax, knowing it is not his father who woke him up so abruptly. That is a good sign.
Vio forces himself to keep his eyes open, his system lagging as he takes in the person holding him upright. For how rude his awakening is, he is at least thankful for their steadying grip. He would call it almost caring if it were not for how groggy and pissed off he is.
The face that stares back at him makes his eyes widen. Sheik, in the living flesh with Sheikah markings and traditional Sheikah clothes. He has never seen him like this before, and yet he knows it is her. The cream clothes are an outliner, more like the clothes of a Sheikah villager rather than the dark getup from a trained warrior. Their hair is white instead of the blonde hair they naturally possess. It is the first time he has seen her face, and Vio freezes at the realisation. Vio knows it is as well as he knows his own two hands. He would recognise Sheik anywhere.
Sheik shushes him, despite Vio being too stunned to speak.
"Shsss! Don't wake up, Red. This is bad." Sheik shakes their head, her voice a whisper. Vio feels a pool of dread flood his stomach. If Sheik loses his cool – Vio knows that whatever is happening cannot be good. Sheik lets go of his face. Vio adjusts his jaw, muscles cramping uncomfortably. All the ease he gained from sleep fades from his mind.
"What happened?" Vio quietly asks, shooting Red a glance from his canopy bed. Vio can see the mound he made in the bed, the disturbed sheets that makes it so apparent that there was a second person there. Red is still asleep, curled around where Vio lay, hugging a pillow to his chest. He does not doubt that the pillow is Sheik's doing. There is a reason why Vio usually does not accept sleepovers. Red has a horrible habit of clinging to anyone sleeping nearby – or, in other words, to Vio.
He glances back at Sheik, eyes wide.
"Is it-"
"No, no. Or, I don't know. It could be, but I don't know!" Sheik whisper-yells. His hysterics and the unusual getup drive Vio's horrible imagination wild. The possibilities are endless, and yet his mind draws a blank. It could be that it is too early to make sense of this, but the time of day will hardly help him figure it out.
Vio breathes in, counts to three and breathes out at six, letting all that panic slide out of him. Panicking will do them both no good. He can let his heart give out when everything has been resolved. Right now, he has to put himself aside.
Vio tries to smile, but the grin feels more like a grimace spreading across his face. Like stretching a healing wound, tearing the healing scab.
"Show me." Vio demands, voice as hard as steel. Sheik falls silent, their wild flailing limbs falling to their side. Her eyes clear, and they nod, coming to herself.
"Okay, come!" He rushes out of the room, as silent as the night. Vio follows behind, shooting one last glance at his sleeping brother. He is not under the covers as Vio would like and is still in that lousy red and blue uniform. But at least he is unaware of whatever awful thing is supposedly happening. It is better if Red is not awake. I will solve it, and by the time Red wakes, it will be as if the problem never existed. So Vio decides, swallowing thickly. Whatever it is, it made one of the most cool-headed people he knows panic. It can be anything but good.
They pass Blue at the door. Neither bother waking the bodyguard, only closing the door so Blue will not panic when he wakes up to see the prince's door room ajar. Vio cannot say he is happy to find the newly appointed guard sleeping on the job, but he does not have the time to reprimand him.
They do not have to run far. There is a commotion around the bend, where the king's rooms are. The appearance of so many servants at the door has his mind screaming — no wonder Sheik panicked. The sheer magnitude of people crowding the hall, trying to peer inside the room, is more than his poor heart can take. If his father saw this – they would all be fired. No, worse. He does not want to imagine what will happen to these innocent people. They are not worth his time.
But then Vio sees a couple of guards scratching their heads. This is not normal at all. He is tempted to rush in, dying to know if the king of Hyrule is alright. He cannot stand the bastard, but it is still- he is-
Vio does not finish that sentence, not even in his thoughts.
Sheik points to a nearby vent. He nods, reading her thoughts. They find the nearest supply closet, which he is unfamiliar with, and crawl into the vent system. Vio cannot say he is fond of them. But he is happy he took Sheik on their offer of spy training. It makes the army crawl through the events faster than it would have been if he was a novice. They drop into the royal bathroom, and without tact, Vio rushes through the door – standing face to face with the luxurious room reserved for the king and queen.
The room is large, circular and built with the romanesque architecture of the old Temple of Time of Faron Woods in mind. But all those details fade to the background as Vio's eyes land on the prone form of his father. The king lies on his back with physicians crowding around him. The nurses glance at Vio, surprised by his sudden appearance. But the doctors are too busy to take note of him, so the nurses turn a blind eye to him. It makes the pit in his stomach grow.
The king's right hand sits at his side, clutching his frail hand. Even the soothsayer's blubbering display does not distract him from his father's condition. Vio looks and his father – the man who told the world Vio was dead so his name could be saved – the man who made his life so miserable, made him raise Red when it was his job – he is, he is –
His chest heaves up and down. He is not dead. But Vio can see it in his eyes - it is close. The grim reaper is banging on the door, demanding the greedy bastard to open up so it can go and reap the next unfortunate soul.
The king, an unhealthy man with unhealthier habits, a man wracked with gout – lets his pale eyes wander around the room, taking in his last moments. Then, finally, his eyes land on Vio and stop, the haze lifting from his eyes for one precious moment. His slate grey eyes fill with recognition, so familiar to the young man he holds in his gaze. Vio tries to determine the emotions that storm behind them for any ounce of hatred and disgust. But he finds none. Just… sadness. At what, Vio will never know. He is dying, and his last moments will be remembering the son he never wanted — the living proof of his unfaithfulness to his dead wife.
Vio watches the life drain out of his eyes. The moment is slow as if time wishes to curse him. Vio sees how his father's form goes limp when the doctors notice that their care is too late. The silver-tongued slimeball of a prophet's wails grow so loud the nurses hold their care and the onlookers gasp.
But Vio cannot hear anything of it. All that matters to him is that one moment. His father's dead face stares back at him. Never will he move again, never will he speak ill again and never shall he strike and plague his life. He is gone.
Vio vision goes black. He blinks. He is dragged back into the bathroom by Sheik, his body limp as he lets them carry him out through a hidden door. It is a one-way passage, but Vio does not care. The moment is stuck in his head. Even with his eyes closed, he can still see it. His father's dead face and his eyes, glassy and grey, staring back at Vio. Unreadable and forever, a mystery Vio will never solve.
They are back in the hall, eyeing the rapidly growing crowd. Vio does not know what to feel, knowing what lies behind it. Of how he should feel at the morbid curiosity of the servants, people who also suffered under his father's rule, gawking in disbelief that the king is – is – is-
"Well," Sheik sighs, patting her hips. Vio looks at him, the smirk on their face too dry and hysterical to mean anything good. But before they even say anything, Vio knows he will regret waking up this morning and dealing with the mess that is his life.
Sheik's grin widens as if she can read his mind, like him unable to process what just happened.
"You wished a little too hard, Vio."