Chapter Text
Link’s first horse is named Bastryd.
Well. Okay, maybe not exactly his first horse. He can’t remember his first horse, especially not now, when his memories are scattered across Hyrule. He knows there must have been horses before this one- vague recollections of... something- but that’s it.
Link’s first horse is named Bastryd, and he loves it. Them? He isn’t quite sure. But, the story goes a little something like this:
Link is awake. He has been awake for the past two days, and yet, it doesn’t feel like enough. He is awake and he is unhappy, because Hyrule is gone and he is alone.
Not even his first friend, the Old Man, was there for long. All that’s left of him is the warm doublet on Link’s back, and a shack in the woods. So Link is awake, and he is alone, and as far as he can tell, neither of these things will be going away soon.
Not great.
But Link is armed with a paraglider, and courage, and the traveler’s sword he clutches close. It’ll be enough. When he jumps from the plateau, he isn’t afraid. He’s actually a little hungry.
After a lot of running, and climbing, and general unexpected exercise, Link stumbles his way into a new discovery: a building. A building shaped like a horse.
Investigating the horse-shaped discovery leads to people, and of course, horses. Before that point, Link hadn’t even been certain there was anyone else left. Just the wind of Hyrule, and a handful of monsters that perched on wobbly towers. So seeing the people makes that lonely little ache in his chest unfurl, maybe a little.
And seeing the horses reminds Link of horses- reminds him that he had one, maybe, that Zelda definitely had one. Link doesn’t need memories to know that he also loves horses. So he decides right then and there that he’s going to get one. And since Link is tenacious and is driven by unending love, he is going to get one.
The owner of the stable points in the direction of the flatlands, which translates to ‘horses are close’. Link is so excited- for the first time in how long- that he just runs over the hill to try and catch one.
Except, he isn’t that fast, and horses kick hard. Bad plan. Lack of plan. Link returns soon and grumpily brews a stealthy mushroom meal.
Attempt number two it is. And after scarfing down the mushrooms, Link prays that he can make it, and slowly scuttles over to the horses. One is blue. Two are a mottled sort of black. And one is brown, with what looks like a diaper.
Link instantly knows that that is the one. So he spends the next three minutes stalking it, barely hidden by the swaying grass, and holding his breath.
The horse is not happy when Link leaps up, but, well, Link is prepared this time. He doesn’t fall off, and then there’s the kicking and the horse might be yelling or maybe it’s Link but it doesn’t last long.
Link opens his eyes, slightly loosening his grip on the horse’s mane. Gently, he pats the side of its head, and with the utmost care, steers it towards the stable.
“What it’s name?” the owner eventually asked, as Link sat atop his horse, smiling happily. A blink.
Names are important. They carry weight and meaning and expectations, and really, it’s a lot to give to someone who never asked. So he thinks about it.
And he thinks about it.
“Bastryd.”
He specifically spells it out. The y is important, adds accent.
And that’s how Link’s journey really begins, he thinks.