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Chapter Text

The Pup is tired. He can hear The Man With One Eye talking, but its muffled through cotton and The Pup can't move to clean his ears, even if he wanted to. The Pup hears clink clink clink, the sound of metal on metal, but he's too tired to open his eyes and see why the clinking is happening, why The Man With One Eye is talking, why The Pup can feel The Man's hands on his wrists, moving the shackles around.

It hurts, but The Pup is too tired to feel. The Man is still speaking. What is he saying?

His voice is low, soothing, like how The Pup talks when he's speaking to... to...

He cannot remember his horses name. He is too tired.

The Man keeps talking, his voice suddenly dropping as he hisses- clink clink clink goes the metal, and suddenly The Pup's arms drop down, heavy and numb and already tingling as the blood rushes back into them, The Pup's muscles twitching and seizing tightly. He had hit The Man with his arm as it dropped; The Pup is too tired to feel afraid.

"Ha," says The Man, and The Pup thinks that he must be happy; however, he doesn't know why. The Pup blearily wonders why The Man is clinking the metal like so, letting The Pups' arms free. Doesn't The Man know The Pup is dangerous? The Pup could hurt him, so easily... so easily...

But, The Pup is too tired to hurt (he's always too tired to hurt). Does The Man know this? Is that why he's-

Clink clink clink, says the metal, and The Pup feels the suffocating grip of the shackles around his ankles release. The Pup's arms crackle with pain, his fingers moving without The Pup moving them. The Man puts an arm under The Pup's knees, drawing them up as his other arm goes around his back-

Pain!

The Pup whimpers, the gouges in his back screaming as The Man touches them, The Pup arching away from The Man's arm. What is he doing?

The cotton in The Pup's ears turn into bees, bees that hum around his head and drown out more of what The Man is saying; all The Pup can hear is the jump in The Man's voice.

The Pup whimpers again, and the arm that had been under his knees vanishes- his knees drop.

Nothing is touching him.

Has...

Has The Man left him?

The Pup, his voice found, whimpers louder, his voice wobbling before it cracks. His hands, now refilled with his blood and no longer twitching in need, desperately curl and uncurl into fists against the cold stone, his nails scratching the rough ground.

Come back, The Pup tries to say, but all that leaves his throat is a choked whine, pinpricks poking his eyes as his desperation grows. Come back, come back, I'm sorry, I'm sor-

Something is wrapped around The Pup. It's... soft.

The bees lessen in his head enough to hear The Man again- The Pup does not know if he came back or never left. The arms return; the gashes in The Pups back only tingle with the softness protecting them.

The Pup is lifted, a startled gasp beginning in his chest but leaving as only a weak exhale. The rumble of The Man's chest shakes some of the cotton out of The Pup's ears.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

Chapter Text

The Pup doesn't remember falling asleep. All he knows is that he closed his eyes (he was so tired, only for a moment), but when he opened them again, The Man was pouring something that was warm and tasted sweet down his throat. 

The Pup's throat seized, The Warm and Sweet choking- no, suffocating him; he coughed, and The Man closed his other eye as The Pup spat up whatever he had been feeding him. The Pup's heart pounds in his ears, a sick feeling twisting his belly into knots as The Man's face is unreadable, The Man was angry he was angry at The Pup-

The Man speaks.

"Good morning," he says, and a drop of the Warm and Sweet Something drips down his hair, landing with a muffled plop. The corners of The Man's lips move upwards, and The Pup is left to ponder what it was that he did before The Man is gone from his field of vision.

The Pup would be afraid, but it's now that The Pup realizes that he is warm. His legs, tummy and arms are the warmest, and even though his head is out, it's laying on something soft. And warm. The Pup cannot help but nuzzle into it, his cheek pressed against the softness, the bees that were buzzing constantly in his head quieting as The Pup marveled in the strange feeling. 

The Pup felt... awake. More awake than what seemed to be a thousand years, a thousand years of feeling tired and being hurt and there was so much yelling and pain, pain, pain-

A knife of a shout cuts into The Pup's head, The Pup trying to cower away into the soft and warm as light suddenly floods through the shadows, the darkness running away and leaving The Pup alone in the burning, burning light. 

The Pup tries to scream, his jaw wrenching open and eyes screwing shut; only for a weak squeak to escape, the sound high and thin to The Pup's ears. The shout is long gone by the time The Pup recovers; the shadows over him are back, and they give him the strength to slowly, painfully, break his eyelids apart and give himself sight again-

-Only to open them to a round face, the left half sporting spikes of discolored skin and a white, milky eye staring down at him intently. The Pup gasps, startled, and The Scarred One’s eyes (the right one is the same deep color as The Man’s) glimmer. He turns around, speaking to who The Pup can only assume is The Man.

The Scarred One’s voice is loud; the pitch of it reveals him to be only a boy (The Pup wonders if The Scarred One is the same age as him).

The Scarred One’s hair, The Pup notices, is long, bound with a ribbon that is torn to shreds. The pale color of it makes the light around his head look like a halo. It dangles dangerously close to The Pup’s hand, the ends just short of brushing against The Pup’s skin.

The Pup wants to touch it. It would be so easy to reach up, to feel the strands of long, pale hair-

To pull, dragging The Scarred One down into a vulnerable position and letting The Pup kill-

The Pup pulls his hand away.

The Pup feels- no, is. The Pup is a monster.

He turns his face to the other wall; hides the monster away. He cannot let anyone else know of The Monster- The Pup must protect them, keep The Monster away at all costs.

Hes’ done it since he was a child; he must continue it now.

His ears prick up as he hears The Scarred One speak his language.

”Can you hear me?” The Scarred One asks, and The Pup nods. He turns his face to The Scarred One, slowly (if he moves too fast, The Monster might want to come out).

The Scarred One smiles; it is not kind. He stands, turning his back to The Pup.

”I think you should die.”

Chapter Text

"Another story."

"Another? It's ten at night."

"Another!" The child pounded his fists petulantly on the bedsheets, his brother narrowly avoiding the attack. "Another, another, ano-"

"Calm down; I'm sleepy," the brother tries to reason, yawning largely and loudly to prove his point. The child's small hands land on his face, smacking his cheeks as the child giggled. "Hey!"

"Wake up!" The child shouts, smacking his brother upon each word. 

"Shh, shh, shh," The brother, struggling to hold back his own laughter, says. "Calm down, calm down-"

The little one does not. 

"Wake u-" The brother catches the small wrists in his hands as the child tries to hit his face again, the child shrieking in laughter even as the brother begins to shush him.

"Hey hey hey, shhh," the brother whispers, trying to sound soothing; he sits up on his knees, still holding the child's wrists. "You're being too lou-"

"Another!" The child yells, right in the brother's face. The shout echoes- the brother's heart jumps in panic.

"Ravio!" The brother presses a hand over the childs- Ravio's- mouth, keeping the boy quiet. "Don't yell, you hear me? It's night time- not 'Ravio goes crazy' time." Ravio looks up at him, something warm and wet snaking against the brother's palm. The brother stubbornly keeps his hand where it was stationed. "You're being a brat."

"Am not!" Ravio bursts, the protest muffled behind the brother's hand. The brother simply quirks an eyebrow.

"Really?"

Ravio pouts, crossing his arms across his chest. 

"If I take my hand away," the brother asks, "will you stop yelling?" At Ravio's nod, the brother pulls his hand away. He drags it down his leg, cleaning off the slobber Ravio had left.

"Mean," Ravio pouts, his voice a low whisper. 

"Aren't I?" The brother jokes. He lays back down on his back, opening his arm out to the little boy. "C'mere."

"Ravio always hasta be quiet," Ravio whined instead, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Aww, that’s not true,” the brother replies, Ravio letting out an angry huff. The brother lays there for a moment, pondering, then sighs. “Listen, konijntje- I’ll bring you to the park tomorrow.” The brother could see Ravio’s ears perk up. “Then- and only then- can it be ‘Ravio goes crazy’ time. ‘Kay?”

He gets a nod for his answer, the little boy finally curling up, into his brothers side. He lays his head on his brothers shoulder, his little hand reaching up to play with the pink strands. He’s gentle, careful not to tug- the brother starts to feel sleepy as he slowly runs his hand up and down the little boys’ back, his eyelids drooping.

He looks down at the top of Ravio’s head, careful to not pull the lock the youth was playing with out of his hands. The fluffy curls nearly went up his nose every time he breathed in, the hair smelling sweet as the brother presses a kiss to the soft, black curls, so different from the blond hair that felt more like straw that he, himself, owned.

People would always tell him, he looks just like you. The brother would look at the sparkling, green eyes; the fluffy, noir curls; the freckled, button nose that always scrunched up when Ravio smiled, and the round cheeks that were almost always framing a smile, and wonder just where everyone saw a similarity.

“Night, Link,” Ravio mumbles suddenly, yawning right after. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

---

The brother- Link- wakes with a start. Ravio is still curled into his side, the little boy’s snores being the only sound in the room- until the banging that woke Link up begins again.

They found him.

Link’s heart pounds in his chest as he collects Ravio into his arms, the little boy startling awake with a small gasp as Link carries him out of bed.

“Wha-?”

“Ravio, listen to me,” Link says lowly, shifting Ravio to one arm; he uses his freed arm to grab a thick, heavy cloak. “We’re gonna play bunny, alright?”

“Bunny?” Ravio asks, Link running down the staircase and into the living room, thankful that the door to the outside lead to the kitchen instead of the living room.

“Yes, bunny.” Link kneels beside the rug in the room, pulling it aside and locating a wood knot- he digs his finger into it, pulling his hand up and revealing an alcove that had been dug into the floor. “We’re gonna be bunnies, hiding in the bushes, okay? You gotta be real quiet, and-” his voice jumps when the banging on the door begins again, shouting accompanying the banging, this time. “Don’t- don’t make a peep, can you do that?”

Ravio nods, and Link slips into the small alcove. He pulls the heavy cloak over, covering the two of them fully before he grabs the wood knot and the rug, pulling the trap door and rug over their hiding place.

“Quiet and still as a bunny,” he whispers to Ravio, who nods into his shoulder. One arm wrapped around Ravio, the other looped into a hoop that was built into the trap door- Link closes his eyes, and waits for the break-in to happen.

The banging happens one more time, then Link jumps near out of his skin as he hears the door break, the soldiers streaming in. Their boots cause the floor to shake, shouts making Ravio flinch and cuddle deeper into Link’s shoulder; his breaths are quick and short against Link’s neck.

Link flinches when boots walk right over their hiding spot, holding his breath and hoping his heart beat wasn’t nearly as loud to the outside world as it was to him. He hears something glass get knocked over, shattering all across the wood floor- the soldiers all laugh, as if they weren’t searching for a boy that they all wanted dead.

The invasion, Link guesses, doesn’t last more than an hour. Even after he hears the soldiers leave, their boots shaking the floorboards and crunching across glass, Link doesn’t move until he hears nothing outside the alcove for ten minutes.

As he waits, he closes his eyes. He thinks back to the promise he made to Ravio, the promise of bringing him to the park the next day. He chokes out a sorry excuse for a laugh, biting his lip-

”I’m sorry, konijntje,” he whispers softly. ”I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

Link stepped gingerly over the broken glass, Ravio's arms looped around his neck; his legs were wrapped around Link's waist. The little boy's head laid heavy on Link's shoulder, his breathing deep and slow. 

He had, somehow, fallen asleep in the little alcove. Link could feel him drift off, his body and breathing growing heavier as his brother waited for the outside world to be safe. To be truthful, Link was... envious. Jealous of his ability to drift off, jealous of the way the boy could just ignore everything that was happening or had happened, and to just... sleep.

Though, as Link walked past a mirror (miraculously, unbroken) and caught a glimpse of the dark purple circles under his eyes, he brushed it aside as just his own inability to turn his own brain off.

He looked throughout the house, his stomach twisting and curling with guilt and anger at the damage those bastards had done. Dressers were knocked over, clothes thrown about at random- pillows and bed sheets were strewn about on the ground in the bedroom, feathers spilling out of the wound a knife had given the bed. 

Despite that, Link began to lay the sleeping boy down on the mattress- only to pick him back up again a scant few seconds later. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the thumping made more apparent by his tight throat, dry mouth, and wet cheeks. 

Link sits on the floor, Ravio leaning against his torso; he takes in a sharp breath as Ravio nuzzles into his shoulder, the little boy sighing contentedly before he went still (save, of course, for his chest) and silent again. Link wraps his arms around Ravio in a full hug, pressing his stinging nose into the crook between Ravio's neck and shoulder. 

His eyes fall shut in misery as the true weight of the situation hits him; they had to leave. Again. 

How could Link not be seen as suspicious after this? Leaving mere days after his house was raided, leaving his baby brother in the care of someone Link could only hope wasn't against him- Link could never forgive himself if he exposed the Queen's guard dog and his wife to be willing to harbor traitors. 

And after what happened last time-

No! Link was not going to think about Her. 

He shook his head, disrupting Ravio only a bit; the little boy grumbled, a small fist clutching Link’s tunic.

Link sighed, running his hand up and down the boy’s back to soothe him.

He could only hope it would be fine. No one would suspect a little boy going to his family's house, due to his brother finding work elsewhere. No one would be suspicious of a shaken boy, frightened after the invasion of his home, wanting to get away from the town for a while to breathe.

It would be fine.

"We're going to go see aunt Lonnie again," Link whispered to himself, Ravio cuddling into his shoulder.

-

Link's plan worked. 

As he expected, the town was all horrified; they all came to his home the next day, helping him clean up the rubble. Food filled up their fridge, enough for a month. Link and Ravio both got cheek pinches from the older ladies, hair ruffles from the men, and hugs from people of all ages.

Funny how, even when you were a recluse, the town comes to help out in your time of need.

In the middle of all the chaos, Link was able to get Ravio a ride to aunt Lonnie's; a woman by the name Lucylle was headed that way for a trip to Castle Town with her husband and child. The child, also, was a friend of Ravio's; Link didn't trust just anyone, but he had a good feeling about Lucylle. He knew she cared. 

That still didn't make the goodbye any harder.

"I don' wanna go!" Ravio wailed, two nights later. Link took a moment to stop and sigh softly, his hands stilling on his cloak clasp; he then closed the clasp, turning around to the little boy. Fat tears streaked down Ravio's cheeks, the purple fabric of his own cloak and hood pooling around him- aunt Lonnie had 'given him room to grow.'

She had made it for a five year old, before she knew how old Ravio really was.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," Link cooed softly, going to pick the boy up; Ravio squirmed out of his arms, taking a swing at Link- his small hand curled up into a smaller fist. "Hey!"

"I don't want to go!" Ravio repeated, crossing his arms across his chest. His hand darted up to quickly rub away a tear, a sharp sniffle causing him to hiccup. "Aunt Lonnie mean!"

"That's a lie, and you know it," Link told him, kneeling before him on the floor. "Listen- I don't wanna leave either." He reached out, gently placing his hand on Ravio's shoulder- Ravio didn't shake him off. "I liked it here, same as you. But, konijntje, we're not safe anymore."

"Don't wanna go," Ravio repeated, quieter this time. More tears streaked down his cheeks, but he didn't protest to Link pulling him forward into a hug, a quick kiss being pressed to Ravio's cheek. 

"I know," Link said quietly, picking the little boy up and wiping a tear away with his thumb. "But just think- you're gonna see Roolie and Sky again! Don't you remember all the fun you three had, last time?"

Ravio nodded, despite having been only a year old the last time he saw either of them.

"Yeah, and Warriors, Wild..." Link went on, Ravio's lips quirking upwards slightly. "You'll be able to see 'em all soon, right?"

"Mm-hmm," Ravio mumbled, nodding. Link felt his own lips quirk upwards as he pulled Ravio's hood, which had eyes and long rabbit ears sewn on, up over the baby's head. 

"Alright, then; let's go find Lucylle," Link said, then opened the door, into the night.

Chapter Text

The Sky Child walks through the hallways, feeling content. He holds his harp to his chest, arms wrapped around it in a hug- his lips are turned upwards in a smile. 

He smiles at all the pretty men and ladies he walks past- sweet, golden light fills his chest whenever one smiles back. Sometimes they even greet him, and say hello! Those nobles always make the Sky Child happiest, holding his harp closer to his chest in a pleased, happy hug. They had been nice to him! They liked him, they really did!

That made the other nobles, the ones who scowled at him or mocked him, easier to deal with. No matter how upset The Sky Child was, no matter the amounts of feather-pulling or nonsensical squawking he was mocked with; he would remember the smiles and greetings from the other nobles, and The Sky Child will feel his chest grow light and his lips go upward. 

He hardly remembered the bad ones, anyway. 

---

The Sky Child now sits in his favorite cove in the courtyard, the sun warming the top of his head and face, the tickly heat making him giggle. He flutters with joy; fluffy, red rose petals begin drifting in the air around him. They dance merrily in the wind, The Sky Child watching them float around as he blinks against the Too Bright of the sun, the mumbles around him flowing in one ear and out the other. 

"Sing, Sky Child," One nobleman shouts suddenly, causing The Sky Child to jump. His eyes drop from the fluffy red petals to his golden, shining harp. He hums a note, brushing his fingers over the strings gently- 

Sing, Sky Child.

So he does. The Sky Child smiles, sings, and plays his harp; smiles, sings, plays his harp; smiles, sings, plays his harp. He smiles wider when the pretty men and ladies of the court stop and listen, swaying to the tune of his songs as a few dance in front of him. The ladies dresses swish around like large flowers in the breeze, the sun making the shiny fabric shimmer. The Sky Child watches the skirts swish by as he sings and plays his harp, the urge to reach out and touch the flowing fabric pushing to a forefront in his mind before it drifts away.

The Sky Child’s thoughts often drift… it’s not pleasant, but his mind usually drifts away before he can linger on it for too long. That was fine- he knows the driftiness helps him not think too much.

Thinking too much hurt. His brain, his mind… it all hurt. He didn’t like it.

So The Sky Child sings, and doesn’t think.
-
Its dark by the time The Sky Child leaves his favorite cove, fluffy red petals surrounding him. They had built up the entire day, making him pause his singing a few times so that he could sneeze. The pretty men and ladies of the court had laughed at that- The Sky Child giggled along, but couldn’t quite understand just what was so funny.

Curious, he grabs one; the petal is large, long, and has a strange rod in the middle, where all the fluffies are attached. He gently runs his fingers over it, cooing at the softness- he flutters, and a few more petals drop to the ground. 

The petal doesn't look like any flower he holds it up to; he makes three careful rounds around the courtyard, being pushed around by the pretty men and ladies of the court as they meander around, blocking his way to the flowers. 

The Sky Child wants to wait, but he's beginning to shiver- the cold strikes him deep in his bones, his teeth clattering together as he holds onto his fluffy, red petal.

He’s pushed to the ground in the beginning of his fourth round of searching, landing hard on his bottom and almost making him let go of his fluffy red petal. The man laughs, calls him a stupid little half-breed, but The Sky Child doesn’t know what that means. 

He rubs away the stinging that starts in his eyes and nose, holding tight to his petal as he slowly eases himself upwards, the pretty men and ladies of the court sneering down at him. 

He looks away, and goes to get his golden harp- his world waters before him, but he passes his arm over his eyes until he can see his golden harp, reaching out to grab it-

It's gone!

The Sky Child tilts his head, confused; laughter echoes from behind him as he searches for his golden harp. 

"Up here, Sky Child," a mans voice says, and The Sky Child looks up to see a cruel smirk, evilly glinting eyes, and his harp, held up beyond his reach. 

The Sky Child holds out his hands, one still wrapped around the fluffy red petal.

"Please," The Sky Child says. The man laughs. 

"A trade," he says, loud enough for all the other men and ladies of the court to hear. “A feather, for the harp." The man shakes the golden instrument, The Sky Child's eyes following it. "Fair enough, no?"

The Sky Child nods, and offers him his petal- a feather?

The man smirks more, tapping his chin with his finger. The Sky Child can hear the laughter continue at the man's theatrics; he smiles. The men and ladies were all laughing- that was good, right? If they were laughing, that meant The Sky Child was doing good, yes?

"Oh, no no no,” The man says, shaking his head. More laughter. "That crumpled little thing simply won't do for me."

The Sky Child, still smiling, tilts his head again. He looks again at his feather, bringing both of his hands together in a cup so he could look at it. It was looking rather crumpled, damp from being in The Sky Child's hand for so long- that was no matter! The Sky Child could find a better one- there were an abundance around, all the same color of red as the one he held. 

He let go of the sad, little feather, waving a small goodbye; the men and ladies of the court murmured in laughter. He began to search around, turning around- he had to find a good feather for the man, one that would let him get his harp-

"AAH!"

The Sky Child shrieked, the burst of pain from his back causing his head to snap up. The stinging began in his eyes again, but he rubbed them away quickly as he stumbled around, back to face the man. 

The man was holding a handful of feathers in his fist, holding them up like a trophy to the other men and ladies in the courtyard. The men and ladies cheered and clapped, like the man had defeated a great beast- The Sky Child's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching painfully in his lungs and making it difficult to breathe. He rubbed at his eyes again, biting the inside of his cheek- he fluttered again, the pain bringing attention to all the cold, aching spots that surrounded it. 

Had this... happened before?

The Sky Child whimpered, his stomach twisting as the laughter thundered in his ears. He felt dizzy, his head pounding as something sour built up in the back of his throat, his nose stinging painfully as he stood. 

He held his shaking hands up to the man, who was still showing off his prize to the men and ladies of the court. 

"Please," he choked out, twin rivers dripping down his cheeks. "Give."

The man looked down at him in disgust, before throwing his precious golden harp at him- The Sky Child was barely able to grab it, fumbling with the golden instrument as the laughter, and the pounding, increased. The Sky Child held it close to his chest in a hug, biting his lower lip as it shook uncontrollably. 

The Sky Child turned, dragging his feet out of the courtyard as the laughter continued, the man shouting something after him that he couldn't make any sense of. The Sky Child sniffled sharply, his head held low- he made sure that no tears dripped onto his instrument, his world wavering before him. 

Already, though, he felt... calmer. The further away he got from the courtyard, the further the memory seemed- his tears began to dry, his bottom lip quit shaking, and his twisting gut began to calm within him. By the time he found his way back to his room, his face was completely dry- his heart still ached, but it was... dulled. 

“Hello, Sky Child," a sheikah says to him, as they pass by. The Sky Child waves, a smile quirking up the corners of his lips. "Did you have a good performance today?"

The Sky Child nods, the memory of his violation melting away as he spoke.

"Yes."

Chapter Text

The Sky Child wakes up the next morning, and hears rustling by his bedside. He opens his eyes, looking for the disturbance- his smile widens as he sees his Doctor next to him. 

"Hello," he chirps, starting to sit up- he must be due for a check up, today! His Doctor nods once at him in greeting, the old sheikah man scratching at a pad. He uses something fluffy and red to scratch with; the object makes something deep within The Sky Child's belly twist, but he doesn't know why. 

The Sky Child hums his songs to himself as his Doctor works, giving his Doctor his arm or opening his mouth whenever he tells him to. He sways, side to side, like he does when hes playing; the Doctor grumbles at him stop moving, damn you but The Sky Child never quite knows what he means by that. 

His Doctor soon sits beside him again, after poking The Sky Child's arm with all over a sharp point before inserting it into the crook of his arm. The Sky Child's eyes water from the pokes as he watches round bubbles of red well up, dots turning into trails of rust running down his arm. Soon, though, the pain disappears, taking The Sky Child's tears with it. 

He's smiling contentedly by the time the sharp object is pulled out of his arm, the odd sensation making him flutter. A soft snap, and a fluffy red petal drifts to rest beside his hand. The Sky Child picks it up, holding it up to the sunlight and cooing in awe at the vibrant color. 

He hears scratching beside him again, and turns to look; his Doctor is writing again, a strange look on his face. He's... tense, almost nervous- it makes The Sky Child reach out his hand, ready to comfort-

Wait!

The Sky Child grabs the fluffy red petal, a wide smile stretching across his face. He offers the petal to his Doctor, swishing it in the air-

"For you," He explains, to his Doctor's odd look. "To scratch."

The Doctor looks at the petal for a long time, The Sky Child's smile starting to drop- didn't he like it? Wasn't it a good present? Did The Sky Child make him sad?

The Sky Child almost pulls his gift away, heartbroken at the refusal- before his gift is accepted, his Doctor taking it from his hands with a nod. The Sky Child smiles brightly, happiness shining bright in his chest as he flutters. His gift was good! The Sky Child was good!

"Stop molting," his Doctor snaps, standing up quickly; The Sky Child jumps at the sudden movement, tilting his head in confusion. 

"What is molting?" He asks. 

His Doctor doesn't answer. Instead, he places a hand on The Sky Child's shoulder, his strange expression back and more intense. 

"Goodbye, Sky Child."

"Goodbye," The Sky Child says, waving a small farewell- the farewell goes unnoticed, as the man is already almost out the door by the time he says it. The Sky Child, though confused, simply waved the strange man off- it was no matter. 

---

The Sky Child walks through the hallways, smiling in soft content. His arms are wrapped around his golden harp again, the instrument heavy and solid against his chest. He walks past the pretty men and ladies of the court, smiling brighter for them- though, strangely, he can't seem to remember much of his walk. 

He stands in the middle of the courtyard, confused as to how he got there; though, he shakes his head, feeling slightly dizzy afterwards. It was no matter. 

The same fluffy, red petals from the morning drift in the wind around him, He sits in his favorite cove in the courtyard, the sun tickling the top of his head and face with warmth- he giggles at the sensation, fluttering with his joy. The same fluffy, red petals from the morning drift in the wind around him, The Sky Child watching them until the Too Bright from the sun makes his eyes burn and his head hurt more.

"Sing, Sky Child," a man from the court yells, The Sky Child jumping in surprise. He almost asks the man to be quiet, please, my head hurts, but the words drift out of his reach before he can say them. He hums a note, strumming his fingers over the strings gently- the strings grind against his fingertips, his note wavering as his entire arm vibrates, his head pounding.

The Sky Child swallows thickly, trying to clear his throat enough to begin singing. His heart, normally a soft, steady drum in the middle of his chest, pounds wildly now- it jumps sporadically, like a flighty bird that was trying to escape its... its...

Sing, Sky Child.

He tries. He brushes his shaking hand over the strings of his harp, singing his song as well as he could, though his ears seemed to be stuffed with cotton, muffling everything around him. The sun shoots its beams into his eyes, its normally gentle and sweet warmth turning against him, its cruel heat slowly suffocating him within his own clothes.

The Sky Child's heart hammers in his chest, his stomach beginning to churn. He swallows back bile, stammering on his song- he keeps his heavy, trembling hand moving, hoping that it's plucking the strings.

He flutters, and a red petal drifts by him. The wind sweeps it under his nose, teasingly tickling him- it feels like a steel comb, raking over his nose with sadistic joy before it dances away, disintegrating into the sun's blinding light. 

The Sky Child feels something build up in the back of his throat, his stomach tossing and turning wildly. He tries to cover his mouth, but his arms are numb and heavy now, acting much more like rocks than arms. 

The Sky Child sneezes.

Thick, red liquid splatters across the ground.

Even with the cotton stuffed within his ears, The Sky Child hears screaming. Through the deadly lasers of the sun, The Sky Child can see the pretty skirts of the ladies swirling as the mens feet stomp around, the movement like a hectic, furious dance. The Sky Child watches, warm liquid dripping down his nose and into his mouth- the taste of warm, thick metallic liquid forces him to gag, his body lurching forward.

Nothing comes up, but the retch is enough to seize his screaming, fighting heart, his chest about to shatter open as the space behind his eyes felt as though he was being stabbed with a piercing dagger.

The Sky Child watched in a strange type of fascination as more red liquid dripped onto the ground, his breathing as quick as his racing heart. His arms trembled as they held him up, his face contorting in agony as the pain in his head reached a new height-

The last thing he felt before his world went black were arms, wrapping around his chest to catch him.

-

He awoke to talking. 

"- the child is weak, my queen." A deep voice said, close to The Sky Child's right side. "I had to bring him here."

A higher voice answered him, but The Sky Child could not understand her words. His head still ached, though not as much as it had before- his heart was settled in his chest, but he felt an underlying ache deep within his bones. 

The Sky Child kept his eyes closed, and tried to listen. 

"- blood on the court grounds," the higher voice spoke, the voice tugging on a memory in his mind that didn't want to surface. "How could-"

"An overdose, done by a heavy-handed trainee," the deep voice cut in, the voice becoming further away. "I've seen it before, many times- my queen."

The Sky Child hears the higher voice hum, something smooth gently brushing over his forehead and cheek. He does his best not to flinch. 

"You say the country will do him well?"

The... what?

The Sky Child wrenches his eyes open, lacy curtains greeting him. He slowly moves his head to the side, his eyelids heavy and half lidded- he blinks furiously, forcing his sight to clear.

He sees a woman sitting in a chair beside his bed- he freezes, his eyes squinting to keep the illusion of sleep. The woman, he feels, is someone important- her bejeweled dress and hair ornaments prove her to be royalty, of some sort. Her hand hovers over his head, a pristine white glove masking the thin hand underneath.

She's looking over her shoulder, where a sheikah man stands behind her. His mouth moves, the woman nodding to something he says; The Sky Child has stopped listening to the content of their conversation.

He only begins to listen again when the woman turns back to face him- his eyes squeeze closed, a soft giggle accompanying the hand that brushes over his forehead again. 

"Awaken, Sky Child," she coos gently, her hand cupping his cheek. "I can tell you were listening."

He slowly opens his eyes, taking in the two people in front of him in full. The woman's smile is soft and kind, a crown perched on her head- 

Queen Zelda!

The Sky Child feels his heart jump, his body lurching upwards- he tries to scramble to his feet, but is gently held down by the Queen. The sheikah man beside her places a hand on his knee, his eyebrows knit together in worry-

Why, The Sky Child realizes, he only has one eye.

"Rest, Sky Child," Queen Zelda says gently, her hands gentle yet firm on his shoulders. "You are ill. My guard, Link, is to bring you to he and his wife's home to recover- he is the one who caught you, when you collapsed."

Chapter Text

Four hated his height. 

Well, that wasn't true. He didn't hate his height, he hated the jokes about his height. 

The jabs.

 The 'affectionate' teasing. 

The babying.

He hated it all- he was eleven, for Farore's sake! He wasn't a child, no matter what his height happened to be. 

Dark, seething Blue bubbled in his stomach whenever a tall, buff man would ruffle his hair and call him kid, or a sweet-faced lady would call him honey or little one.

Little one was one of the worst offenders- the smarmy, sickly sweet way the ladies would say it didn't help. Worse, Four couldn't escape it- even people who never met him before believed they had a right to give him a nickname, all of them so childish it made the seething, roiling Blue tighten its grip around his guts.

Case in point: right this second. 

Four was reading a book, warm Violet and Red swirling in his chest, the taste of apples faint on his tongue. The book was one he had read before, something about a magic hat- Dot had given it to him, for his tenth birthday. His copy was pretty beat up, though- he couldn't find the latter half of it to save his life.

He tapped his finger against the remaining book pages as he read- only a scant dozen or so was left. Dot always teased him about how quickly he read books- once even giving him a book on a plate for his lunch. 

She thought it was hilarious- Four had just wanted to eat. 

The taste of sweet, crisp apples grew more on his tongue as his mind wandered to food- Red curling down to his belly as it growled.

Four tried to distract himself from his belly- going back to his book- but Violet was retreating, Red filling up his chest and belly more as he grew hungrier and hungrier. 

Dang it.

He blankly stared at the words on the page, his finger still thump -ing against the remainder of pages he had left. Red danced around his belly and chest, the sweet apples and pears growing more intense on his tongue-

He almost screamed when a woman stepped on his toes, a spike of Blue striking its way through the Red, which was dissipating like smoke.

"Oh, my!" She laughed, her laughter tinkling like the loud wind chimes made with bottles that hung outside the library. "Pardon me, dear- I didn't know we had a minish in the library, today!"

Four forced out a smile, Blue growing in his chest like bread dough. 

A minish.

That was another nickname that Four had. Apparently, to everyone else, Four was nothing more than those little pests that stole rupees and hid them in the grass. To them, Four was a rat-looking creature that could use a clover as an umbrella, and could be drowned in a raindrop. 

A minish.

Goddesses above, Four hated those things.

Thankfully, the woman left after only a few minutes- even still, Blue was bubbling hot in his chest as he watched her walk away. 

A tiny, wispy curl of Black whispered to throw the book after her, but Four pushed it down. He didn't want to be kicked out of the library. 

---

Dot came to pick him up an hour later, Four's focus being completely shot. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push the Blue down or pull the Violet up- Red crept up again once Blue began to retreat, and Green bloomed in his chest as he walked around the library, flipping through other books as his mind wandered. 

Dot was bouncy, happily skipping in through the library doors- she engaged in a strange half-skip half-run once she caught sight of Four, looking as though she was galloping and earning a few strange looks from the others in the library.

After convincing her that no, I don't want to rent any books, I'm fine, they were on their way out of the library- Dot's hand wrapped loosely around his wrist as she led him through the busy street. 

She was rambling something about school- Four could only catch bits and pieces of what she was saying through the droning chatter of the square. Even so, Red danced around in his chest as Green was a warm, comforting weight, deep in his gut. 

It was nice.

So, of course, it had to be ruined.

"Hey, shortstack!"

A spike of Blue, and Red stops dancing. Green stays solid, grounding him- but Four can feel the weight begin to lessen, Blue pushing at Green to shove over.

"Ignore them," Dot says, close to his ear- they had stopped at a crossroads, Dot leaning down to whisper in his ear. The yelling continues- all words Four's heard before. "You know they're just trying to get a rise out of you."

"Well, it's working,” Blue makes him grumble. Four crosses his arms in a huff, Dot pfft-ing softly as she straightens up. 

They cross the road once its clear, the both of them amping themselves up to run in order to lose the yelling. 

Blue swirls in his gut.

---

Somehow, Dot convinced him to help her look for those stupid, little minish. 

Four could never understand the... appeal, for looking for those pests. Even if he ever did manage to find one of those things, they never came close enough to touch; though they would swarm Dot, braiding flowers and ferns into her hair as she giggled and laughed, leaving only Four to notice the littlest ones pulling rupees out of her purse to hide. 

Four lay on his back in the green grass, staring up at the light blue sky. Green swelled, filling his chest with a warmth that helped Four feel... connected, to the earth. Green had a way of doing that- while Violet and Blue were also heavy, it was different. 

Violet eased him deep into soft chairs, solidifying him like a rock to the seat as a book sat weighty on his legs. 

Blue helped him stand his ground, holding him steady against things that were wrong- Blue would keep his mind steady during arguments, keeping him from going spastic like Dot did. 

But Green helped him feel alive. Never heavy enough to make Four feel as though he was being dragged under the soil, but weighted to a point that Four could hear his heartbeat in his chest and imagine it to be deep, deep inside the earth, his own matching to the earths heart perfectly.

Four closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. The earth breathed in with him, a heartbeat shared between the two as Four simply... lived.

So, of course, it had to be ruined. 

A barrage of sharp points, suddenly pushing into his palm- a surprisingly heavy weight on his hand. Dot was far away, her words lost- all Four could hear was the sweet tone she was using, trying to lure a minish out of the bushes she was kneeling in front of. 

If his assumption was correct, the bushes weren't the right place to look. 

Four opens his eyes, and sees a minish.

It squeaks when it sees him staring, leaping off his hand and behind a toadstool. Four huffs out a laugh, sitting up- breaking his connection to the earth below. 

His hand moves a bit to the side, steadying himself; his pinky brushes against a rock. 

Green, while still apparent, is being pushed away by Blue again- Four tightens his grip onto Green, trying to keep calm even when just seeing the minish poking around in the grass makes Blue want to burst free. 

Still, his hand moves to grab the rock he had felt.

The rat-looking creature toddles around, squeaking quietly to itself- its long, spindly fingers (used only to nip rupees away from little kids, he's sure) go back to poking his hand, the thing looking up at Four. 

It almost seemed to be asking him something- innocently pleading to be let up on his hand. However, Four wasn't dumb; his wallet was an easy reach from his hand. He shakes his head at the minish. 

"No," he says. 

The minish seems to pout, but retreats. 

Four feels his grip tighten.

Blue oozes slowly in his chest, seeping into crevices and cracks. His mind runs through all the times he's been compared to those things, a sickly sweet taste building on his tongue. It tasted like a candy, one that would give him a stomach ache later but tasted so good in the moment that he couldn't stop eating it. 

Blue swirls faster, darkening into stormy, roiling waves that makes his heart start to race. The waves build, and build, and build, becoming Black at the cores and edges.

"I didn't know we had a minish in the library, today!"

Four snapped.

Blue and Black swell, a sadistic need filling him to the brim as he brings the rock up, above his head.

Blue fills him with brute strength that he had no idea he possessed, Black making his heart pound in adrenaline. 

He brings the rock down. 

A squeak is the last noise the minish makes, before Four crushes it. 

Chapter Text

Dot's scream is loud, immediate; it rips through the silence of the open field, Four's entire body lurching forward as he startles. Blue and Black are still churning in his chest, his breath quick and tight- residual Blue flows through his veins, leaving his limbs feeling... odd. He lets go of the rock when Dot nearly bowls him over, Blue spiking sharply in his chest before melting back into dark, thick, bubbling sludge. 

Black has slithered away long ago, back into the shadows of Four's being. 

"What did you DO?" Dot shouts, her tone high and reedy- Four can't see from where he is on the ground, but he knows she lifted the rock by the gasp and gag that escaped her."Four!" 

Four stays stubbornly silent, laying on his back again in the grass. His face is set in a scowl, he knows; his hands fist tightly into the sea of green around him.

However, he can feel Blue's grip on him start to loosen. A small, wispy thread of Red worms its way into his chest, right near his heart- he crushes it with Blue, tightening his grip on the roiling stew that sat within him. 

Dot's screaming at him again, asking why would you do that and good Farore, Four, you KNOW better than this! but Four can't care. He can't care, because hes gripping so hard onto Blue even as Red gets brave and tries to push him out, away. Blue and Red fight, Four helping Blue the best he can by remembering all the jabs, all the 'affectionate' teasing, all the-

"Why would you DO that, Four?!" Dot shouts, her voice loud and, if Four was being honest, scary. "Answer me!"

But, what can Four say?

He knows she finds his anger about his height ridiculous, even though she tries to be sweet and kind about it, always listening with an open ear to his rambling. But he can see her always holding back a smile; even as warm and confused as it may be, its still a smile, a smirk.

And he barely even tells her the full extent of the bullying, most days. He sugar coats it, makes it easier for her to digest so that she never gets too worried; Dot has a habit of getting too worried, too nervous about Four. It's suffocating most days... but he understands why. Why she does it. 

Hence, the sugar coating. Anything to keep Dot's smile light, her eyes sparkling, her laugh bubbly and fun. 

None of that, however, was present now.

"Four," Dot snarls, her expression and tone darker than Four's ever seen or heard her before. "Answer me.”

Four shrugs.

"That's not an answer," Dot snaps; Red, as deep and viscous as blood, swirls in the pit of Four's belly and around his heart. 

Four shrugs again, then mumbles out an 'answer.'

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Dot asks, sounding appalled. "You killed a Picori, and you don't know why? Four!"

"What?" He snaps, Blue surging forward again. He gets a firm hold on it again, trying to nudge Red out from where it was swirling around his heart, making it feel... heavy.

Red wasn't a heavy emotion.

"I can't believe you," Dot growls, turning sharply back to the rock. Four can't hold back a flinch at her movement, despite knowing that she'd never hurt him.

Four falls down on his back again, biting the inside of his lip.

Stupid Red.

A squeak- then a tiny, pitchy scream.

Dot gasps softly, cooing down at something that Four can't see and doesn't want to see.

"Oh, little one," she murmurs, Red suddenly stabbing his chest. "I'm so, so sorry..."

A horrible, shrieky wail. 

Dot, ever saint-like and loving, tries to comfort the mourning minish as Four turns away, laying on his side and trying to block out the soft mumbles and sobs coming from behind him. He plucked angrily at the grass, biting his tongue as Red weighs his heart down even more, begging him to do something .

"Oh- hey!" Dot suddenly gasps, a note of pain being punctuated in her voice. Four sits up quickly, Red pulling him towards Dot- she leans away from him.

"He bit me," She says anyways, despite still obviously being mad. "It was my fault, I got too close..." 

Blue pokes a little into Red as Four turns to glare at the minish.

Tiny savage, he thinks bitterly-

Then the minish rushes forward, and bites him as well. Its tiny teeth dig sharply into his finger, sharp pain dulling to an ache as it retreats just as quickly as it attacked.

"Okay, okay," Dot says quickly, before Four can react; she grabs him by the bicep, pulling him away to let the minish mourn. It squeals after them angrily, jumping around and waving its fists- it would, almost, be funny.

Four still tries to kick it, but Dot drags him away before he can get a good hit in. 

"Are you okay?" He asks, trying to keep up with her brisk pace. 

"I'll be fine." Dot replies, voice cold and cutting; it's enough to make Four shut up for the rest of the trip back to their house.

---

That night continues as normal, if uneasing. Dot makes dinner, but eating is silent; Four can't help but notice that his hands, especially the place where the minish bit him, begin to... ache. His fingers are the main culprits, feeling almost as if they're stretching- Four finds himself trying to pop them more, the crack always making Dot cringe and gag over-dramatically. 

He notices her doing the same thing. 

Before bed, as Four kneels to pray to his patron Goddess Farore, he notices that his lower back, too, is beginning to ache. As he kneels on his bed, his aching hands folded together in prayer, he can't seem to stop wiggling around- even unfolding his hands to try and massage the spot.

It takes hours for Four to fall asleep.

The ache in his hands is only a gateway to pain, where popping his knuckles (which seemed to work initially) not helping at all. 

The ache in his back, too, reaches a point where it feels like something pushing; a sharp something trying to get out from his back. 

It hurts. It hurts. Four can hear Dot, from where she is in the other room, whimpering as he can only assume that she's feeling the same pains. 

Red simmers uneasily in his chest as his eyes close, falling into a light, disruptive sleep.

-

Four wakes up to a screech. 

He awakens with a jolt, his chest heaving. He blinks, squinting in the bright sunlight- his nose crinkles as he does, and-

Wait. That's not a nose.

That's a snout. A muzzle. 

Four's heart pounds harder, Red rushing in and screaming, crying within his chest as his hands, which had long, clawed fingers, perfect for nipping a rupee away from a small child, come up and pat the muzzle that laid in front of his eyes, his eyes crossing. 

No. No. No, no, no, no no nonononoNO-

Four sat up, and reached behind him, grabbing the very thing he didn't want to grab. 

Four hears another scream, a crash- but he can't tear his terrified eyes away from the plume he grips in his hand, as red as Red rattling around, terrified, within his chest.

Four sits and stares for what feels like hours, his hand shaking with both fear and how hard he grips the feather in his grasp. He's only interrupted by Dot, who stands in his doorway, very nearly on her knees as she screams.

"What did you do?" She wails, loud sobs shaking her too small body.

Four cannot come up with an answer, nor even speak. 

Chapter Text

He hated the high collar Vaiara made him wear. The stiff fabric itched the juncture between his neck and face, tickling him and irritating his skin, but he could do nothing to lessen the discomfort lest he be yelled at by the adults for being immodest. As if one less fabric would make that much of a difference. 

But, oh, he hoped it would. He hoped he could escape the sweltering layers he had to wear to please the Hylians--like he cared what some conquerors thought. He looked to the sun. Despite what the Hylians may think, the sun was not the cause of their discomfort, but their utterly inappropriate attire. Two layers of undergarments, a chestpiece that attempted to accentuate what he didn’t have, a layer to protect that, an underlayer to protect the “good” fabrics, more layers for volume, then finally the outermost layer. Insanity, these people. 

Someone was calling his name. He needed water. He looked around, searching for the sound of his name, until he found Vaiara gesturing for him from besides a soldier. He made his way over to the two, swishing his hips with fervor in the hopes the swish of the damn skirt would provide him with some relief, but it only seemed to please the soldier. Disgusting. 

As he approached Vaiara, he began to hear her conversation with the soldier. 

“-but she’s very adaptable, as well as amenable. What do you say, Captain?” So he was a captain in the army. Figures, those who were meant to protect him, didn’t even see him as human. He could feel the captain raking his eyes over him, trying to discern if he’d be worth it, if he’d pull through on Vaiara’s promises. 

“How much?” He spoke at last, his voice deep and steady, but distinctly dry. Perhaps he, too, was feeling the effects of ill clothes in the desert. 

Vaiara took a moment to look him over as well, then at the captain, most likely trying to find how much she could scam him for. He’d never been worth much, she’d told him repeatedly. 

“Human personnel is increasingly harder to find, Captain, what with Her Majesty’s restrictions and all. I’m afraid I can’t do less than 300.” Higher than he expected, truth be told, but still far less than the 500 his roommate had been sold for just two weeks ago. 

“Vaiara, do you take me for a fool? I hear of your magic with girls of all dispositions, but simply looking at her...Her countenance cannot be called beautiful.” False. He had seen the captain call over a few soldiers to look at him, and he had not put on a display of his sweeping skills for them to assess. “100.”

“Captain! It’s not merely her countenance nor her skills you are paying for, but my handiwork in turning her into a respectable maiden. 250.”

“200.”

“Deal.”

---

He looked at the sun. Everything may change, but the sun was always the same. Always blazing, always stationary, always- 

“Oi! Gerudo! Get back to work!”

Interrupted. 

He picked up the straw broom again, walking it over to the well to exchange it for the mop, and began his journey across the camp once more, this time considerably wetter than the last. 

The Minish Woods were considerably cooler than his native Gerudo Valley, but the summer heat was present nonetheless. His clothes were much less restrictive than the ones he’d worn on Sale Day, more worthy of the maid he was than the pristine dress Vaiara made for all her charges, but they were still more constricting than the silk sirwal he was used to wearing. 

It had been three months since Vaiara had sold him off to the Captain. From the soldiers’ reactions, he was pretty sure the transaction was illegal, but they were stationed too far from any point of governance to be admonished by the Knights of Hyrule, much less the Queen herself. He had caught more than a few recruits looking at him for too long, but he wasn’t even sixteen--the Gerudo minimum--yet, so he was safe, at least for now. 

“Are you even listening?” He had gotten lost in thought again, but it was hard not to when his duties required little cognitive attention. He looked up to see the offending captain. “Pack your shit, Gerudo, we’re moving. Going to see your old pals for a while. Don’t get too excited.”

He was going home. And he’d make sure he never saw the captain again.

Chapter Text

It had taken them nearly a month to arrive at the Valley, but at last they were there, and they were safe. Though the lengths the captain had gone to protect his little maid from the many attackers they met on their journey worried Warriors. Especially considering the price, he should have been more than replaceable should he have been killed or otherwise compromised by the enemy, but the captain had given him a spot within his personal carriage. 

It felt good to be back under the blistering sun of the desert. He had missed the way its rays dug into his skin, stinging him with little shots of happiness straight into his veins. The change in outfit was also for the better. Perhaps it was for the men's amusement, but Warriors would never turn down to wear his native silks. 

He hadn't been allowed to enter the town, of course, given the fact all the soldiers were men and no one would be allowed to supervise him inside, but that didn't matter either. Those people had thrown him away as a babe, and the one who took him in had sold him off to a colonizer not fifteen years later. They cared not for him, so he cared not for them. It was the sun he was after, the pinching of the sands between his toes. It was the freedom from their gazes, the ability to choose. He had lost that a few months ago, but he was already planning on how to steal them right back. 

The little creature on his shoulder chirped--he had to get back to work. The soldiers were coming back from their exercises and they would be expecting lunch to be ready. Warriors smiled at the tiny thing--it was almost rat-like in appearance, but with a distinctly feathered tail and somewhat human eyes--giving it a snack of the cheese with which he was working with.

It had come to him the night before they departed the Minish Woods, squeaking in what Warriors could only interpret as terror. That night when Warriors should have been sleeping to gather energy for the next day's journey, he instead stayed up with the Minish, as Warriors had named it on the fact that it came from those woods, feeding it and comforting it until he eventually passed out in exhaustion, woken only by the captain's thunderous voice. 

But now they were on the other side of the kingdom, and the Minish no longer squeaked in terror, but as an alarm for Warriors to go back to his chores before the mean men came to yell at him. 

Warriors resumed his stirring of the pot of porridge, but the Minish did not rest. It squealed louder, even pulling at Warrior's ears. Warriors shrugged his shoulders to shake the Minish, but still it did not relent. 

"Alright, fine, Mr. Not-a-mouse, what do you want?" he whispered. 

The Minish tapped his shoulder thrice, their sign that he wanted to be placed on Warriors' head. Warriors brought his left hand to his right shoulder, waiting for the Minish to climb aboard, then lifted his hand up to the crown of his head. 

The Minish took hold of a chunk of Warriors' hair, one section in each little hand--paw?--and began tugging the right side. So he was now a horse too, okay. 

Warriors began walking in the direction of the tugging, exiting the camp kitchen through the back, dodging between the few guards left.

He exited camp under the guidance of the forest creature, and made his way over to the walls of the city. He could very easily walk in--the guards still knew who he was--but the Minish grew angry when he tried to go towards the main entrance. It continued to lead him along the walls, until Warriors himself began to hear a strange noise coming from what should be the aqueducts. 

Stopping to determine the exact nature of the noise, Warriors found he couldn't quite discern what it was, but based on the happy taps on his head, it was what the Minish had been wanting him to find. 

Warriors followed the noise through the wall: it was too loud to be a simple rat, but he knew sandseals wouldn't be able to make their way inside; a monster then? There was a faint sound of clinking metal, but the city was too noisy, and frankly too well-guarded, for any monster with half a brain to come so close. 

He finally came across an entrance to the duct. It was locked. He tried jiggling the handle a few times, but feared the noise may attract guards. Even the Minish tried to dig its tiny fingers into the keyhole, but the old metal simply ended up cutting the creature. 

Warriors stepped back. Whatever was in there had found a way through a door, so he should be able to as well. He raked his hand through his hair, feeling a bobby pin fall out of place.

Ahah! He took the metal pin, bending it out of its intended shape, to one more akin to a key. He shoved it into the keyhole, wiggling a few times until the rusted metal finally gave way.

Warriors made his way inside, making sure Minish was safely in, before locking the door behind him. The cool of the chamber was more than welcome after the hours he had spent under the desert sun, and Warriors took a minute to embrace the chill of the water against his sun-kissed skin. 

But then the noise started up again, and Minish was pulling at his hair once more. Left turn. Right turn. Stop. Turn around. Other right. Warriors hoped Minish knew where he was going, for he had lost track three right turns ago. 

Not long after entering, shuffling on his knees grew painful, and he was forced to crouch into a four limbed crawl to better distribute his weight. He crawled through a few more tunnels, his heart beginning to grow heavy at the thought of never finding his way out again. 

Left turn. Left again. 

There was a man.

"You're contaminating the water supply," Warriors said. 

The man squinted his eyes at him. "I'm sneaking into your city and all you care about is me contaminating the water supply?"

"Water is hard to come by in the desert, sir. I'll have to report you-"

The man rushed to cover his mouth. He placed a finger over his own lips, letting out a quiet "shh" before pointing to one of the walls. So he wanted his silence. But what would he be willing to pay? 

Warriors started again, this time whispering directly into the man's ears, "What do you want from the city? I'll get it for you," he paused, "for a price."

The man looked him over a few times. Sure, the apron would look out of place in the city, but the man was in no position to call his bluff, especially when they could hear someone outside complaining about the water pressure. 

"They'll be flushing the ducts in a few. Follow me outside if you don't want to die in this hole." Warriors turned around, letting Minish guide him back to their entrance. He did not turn around to see if the man was following-- the sound of his sword hitting the floor was loud enough.

Chapter Text

The sun shone bright and happy, a lemon-yellow haze settling over the land of Hyrule. The late afternoon was warm, lazy; the sun looked as though someone had cracked a giant egg into the sky, the orange yolk perfectly round and rich as wispy white surrounded it. 

Cicadas hummed to each other, the buzzing mere white noise- a breeze did not dare to stir the thickened, sleepy air. The ranch was quiet, today- hardly anyone dared to make a sound and disrupt the calm. 

Except for Hyrule.

“Easy, easy!” Hyrule cried, gripping  the fur under his hands tightly. He clung to the fur for dear life as the animal below him bucked and dashed around, angry grunts and squeaks escaping it as it tried to throw him off. The creature began to barge towards Hyrule’s two companions, the two of them distracted. “WATCH OUT!”

“Woah- hey!” Warriors yelped, diving out of the way- Hyrule nearly crashed into the wall the boy had previously been leaning on. With a heave and a grunt, the creature threw him onto the ground; Hyrule groaned as his elbow began to radiate a dull ache. 

“Damn,” he muttered into the ground, a rustle coming from his left- a pitchy giggle followed the rustling as Ravio came closer.

“Bunny,” he cooed- Hyrule peeled himself off the ground enough to see Ravio gently holding the beast, nuzzling into the soft fur on the rabbit’s neck. The rabbit grumbled, cuddling into the crook of Ravio’s elbow- the baby boy giggled again, petting the rabbit softly.

“Tough luck,” Warriors said, to Hyrule’s right. Hyrule sighed, pouting to himself.

“She’s normally so kind,” Hyrule lamented, rolling melodramatically onto Warriors’ hand. He was lifted to eye height, sitting up so he could be face-to-face with the other boy. “I’ve never seen a rabbit be so against being ridden.”

“Some animals are just like that,” Warriors sympathized, wincing a bit to drive his point. “Sweetest things ever, until you try to tame ‘em.”

Hyrule fwump-ed down onto his back, pouting up at the ceiling. The lazy atmosphere was starting to get to him, his eyelids already drooping; his heart beat began to calm, the ache in his elbow easing up. Warriors kept his hand as still as he could, even as he moved back to sit beside Ravio- Hyrule felt his hearing dull as his eyes slipped closed all the way, his mind starting to drift…

”Hey!"

Hyrule woke up with a jolt, rubbing his eyes as he was lifted higher up. He moved closer to Warriors’ thumb, wrapping an arm around it- he saw another rabbit, one with caramel and black spots, trying to climb Warriors. 

“Hyrule,” Warriors whined, the persistent rabbit sniffing the bottom of his chin. “Make it- hey!”

Hyrule giggled as the rabbit nuzzled into Warriors' scarf, her ears twitching as her small tail quivered happily. 

"Well, put me down," he instructed teasingly, Warriors doing just that before using both hands to grab the bunny and place her in front of Hyrule.

“Hey, girl,” Hyrule cooed, the bunny taking two quick hops in order to shove her face into his torso. Hyrule scratched the place right in front of her left ear, making her foot thump on the ground in happiness. “Silly lady, why do you always tease Warriors?”

“Because she hates me,” Warriors complained; Ravio shriek-giggled, the rabbit he was holding jumping in surprise.

“That’s not true.” 

“Yes, it is.”

Hyrule rolled his eyes good-naturedly, turning his attention back to the bunny- an idea sparked in his head. This one liked rides…

He smoothed his hands down to under the bunny’s head, making sure she was looking at him.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered. “Wanna go for a ride?”

The rabbit hopped up, bonking their heads together- Hyrule jumped back in surprise, a strange sound escaping him as he rubbed his forehead. Warriors snickered, and Ravio giggled- though it was clear that he was just laughing because Warriors had.

Ignoring them, Hyrule jumped onto the rabbits’ back, situating himself at the base of her neck. He whistled, gently tapping the backs of his heels against her neck; she began to hop around slowly, Hyrule’s hands sunk deep into her fur. 

She didn’t need to be pulled around, like some rabbits did. Hyrule could simply lean to whichever side he wanted her to go, and she would go. She was an older rabbit, one that Hyrule’s ridden more than others- the two of them were in tune with each other, their bond strong.

Hyrule closed his eyes again, his body lax- he had memorized his way around the rabbit enclosure, turning the bunny away from walls from instinct alone.

The ride felt as though it was lasting forever and only a few seconds- he could hear the wood of the barn creaking as someone new arrived. Not yet wanting to open his eyes, Hyrule pulled the rabbit to a stop, Ravio’s gasp filling his ears.

“Auntie Lonnie!" He squealed, beginning to ramble about the bunnies to her. 

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, obviously excited about something- her voice, though she tried to sound at ease, was quicker and tenser than normal. “Why don’t y’all come outside?”

“Why?” Warriors asked- Hyrule fell face-first into the rabbits’ neck, nuzzling into her fur. Magic fizzled under Hyrule’s fingertips as he stroked through the rabbits fur, humming a song of loyalty and love, promises of kindness and respect sparkling sweet on his tongue. The rabbit purred softly- her words were clear, even if they did not speak the same language. 

I trust you.

“Thank you,” he whispered to her, pressing a small kiss to her furry forehead. 

“Well,” Malon said, her voice jumping in her clear excitement. “I just saw a wagon headin’ our way, and I saw a couple of real familiar folks drivin’ it-”

“Time and Wild are back?” Warriors asked, jumping up. Hyrule sat up as well, rubbing his eyes again- Malon had picked Ravio up, the little boy’s arms firmly around her neck as his head lay on her shoulder. Her smile was wide, her eyes sparkling- she was rocking on her feet. 

Hyrule could see Minish on her other shoulder, his large red and white tail waving in the breeze. 

“Yes, sir!” She chirped, tossing her head to the open door before quickly walking out with Ravio. Warriors began to follow her, then quickly turned back and bent to pick Hyrule up- he set Hyrule on his own shoulder, allowing him to hold onto the scarf he was wearing before heading back outside. 

"Thanks," Hyrule said, sarcasm clear.

"Leave me alone," Warriors grumbled, shrugging his shoulder sharply and making Hyrule shriek.

"Hey!"

The wagon was met by all five of them, Malon jumping up to embrace Time once he pulled the wagon to a stop. Time hugged her tightly, then kissed her temple; a loud giggle from Ravio implied that he did the same to the little boy. Wild was excitable as well, loudly complaining to Warriors and Hyrule how numb his bottom felt. 

Though, Hyrule noticed, there was anxiety between both of them- Wild’s smile, while large, didn’t quite seem to match his eyes. It was worse with Time- Hyrule couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from the older man. Though his arms were around his wife, his expression tense as he whispered in her ear- her own expression fell from joyous to concerned. Her eyes roamed to stare at the wagon, her hand lifting to cover her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Warriors asked, having noticed them as well. Malon distracted herself from the wagon with Ravio, setting him down on the ground; Minish had jumped from her shoulder to Time’s during their embrace. 

“Well…” Time began, his hands tangling with each other. “Do you boys remember… no, no. I’ll-” He sighed. “Follow me.”

“Oh, come on!” Wild complained, his arms crossed over his chest. “Do we have to show them now? Why can’t we just have one nice moment-”

“Wild,” Time said, his tone sharp. “Not now.” He continued to the back of the wagon, Warriors and Malon following him closely- Wild hung back, his expression dark and a complete change from the sunny, energetic kid he was moments before.

The group arrived to the back of the wagon, the atmosphere tense; Time undid the fabric, pulling it away to reveal-

Malon gasped. Minish trilled in shock, and Hyrule almost fell off of Warriors' shoulder- it was Warriors who spoke what everyone was thinking.

"Is that a goddess-damn twili?!"

Chapter Text

The dining table was quiet. 

Time, Warriors, Wild, Minish, and Hyrule all sat at the table, each of them doing their own thing. Warriors was reading a book as Minish used his shoulders and head as a playground, Wild was writing an assignment, and Time was deeply invested in a cup of coffee as his one eye watched the fire crackle and pop. The only sounds that filled the air were Wild's quill scratching across paper, the crackling of the fire, and Malon preparing dinner with a curious Ravio helping in every way he could. It was… nice. It almost felt like they were a normal family, doing normal family things on a completely normal, uneventful day.

It wasn't right.

Hyrule sat a little out from the group, watching them all as he hugged an old pillow. He could see the truth underneath all their acts, from how Warriors never seemed to turn a page, to how Minish was running the same track over and over again, like he was pacing; or how Wild was obviously drawing instead of writing.

If Time wasn't stuck deep within the trenches of his own mind, he would've stopped Wild long ago. 

The air was thick with unease and confusion as everyone waited for someone else to mention the Lynel in the room; the fact that, just upstairs, there was a real, honest-to-the-goddesses twili. 

Imagine that! A twili, a feral beast that ate Hylian and Sheikah flesh alike and then snacked on faeries and minish between meals, was in their house! Hyrule could’ve almost laughed- if the fact that Time brought home a possible murderer wasn’t terrifying him to his very core. 

Anxious, Hyrule's fingers began to run over on a frayed edge of the pillow he was holding. The Gerudo silk was soft and smooth under his fingertips, sending a small amount of ease and comfort to his rapidly pounding heart. 

A soft trill from Minish brought Hyrule’s attention to Warriors, who was no longer looking at his book. He was watching Time, who was still blankly staring into the fire; he clearly did not notice Warriors’ intense glare. 

"Alright," Warriors finally announced, Wild jumping from the sudden noise. "I'll bite. Why, in all of Demise's realm, did you bring a goddess-damned twili into the house?!" 

"You know-” Wild said, dropping his quill onto the table. “I feel the same way, Warriors.” He faced Time, folding his hands on the table in a mockery of politeness. "Why in hell-" 

"Language, boys!" Malon called from the kitchen, the clattering of a dish following her voice. The air grew tense and silent again; Time sighed heavily, his cup landing with a dull thump on the table. 

“He was captured in the siege against Ordon,” Time started, Hyrule’s heart dropping. The siege of Ordon?

“But that was months ago!” He blurted, the words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Time somberly nodded, then pinched the bridge of his nose- Hyrule could tell a headache was building. 

“He was in captivity the entire time.” Warriors hissed sympathetically through his teeth, and Minish whimpered softly. “I want you boys to remember, he isn’t a threat-”

“Ha!” Wild suddenly shrieked, the sharp sound like a spike being drilled into Hyrule’s ears. “Try saying that when it murders us all in our beds-”

“Wild!” Time snapped, Wild closing his mouth with a soft click. “He will not hurt any of you; I’m more worried that you boys will hurt him.” 

Wild scoffed loudly, but said nothing else. The room grew quiet again, the air suffocatingly tense. Ravio giggled from within the kitchen, asking Malon something about hazelnuts.

“Time, it’s six,” Warriors mumbled after a while, Time twisting in his chair to look at the clock.

“So it is. Let’s go, then-”

“Let me help!” Wild jumped up from the table, all smiles and cheer; only for Time to reach over and press him back into the chair.

“Absolutely not. You need to-” Time had to raise his voice over Wild’s protesting, “you need to study.”

“Ughh,” Wild groaned, his head thunk-ing down on the table. Time went into the kitchen, the quiet murmur of conversation starting between he and Malon. Warriors stood, slowly enough so that Minish didn’t lose balance and fly off, before heading outside to the barn. 

“I told him, we should’ve taken Sky back,” Wild mumbled, seemingly to himself- but his words were loud enough for Hyrule to hear. “But apparently, we can only smuggle one thing out of the castle at a time.” 

---

Later

---

Hyrule looked closely at the twili’s sleeping face, nervously watching for any sign of the twili being awake. When the twili didn’t move in a worrying way, Hyrule and Minish proceeded to drape the cold cloth over the twili’s forehead. 

If Hyrule was being honest, he didn’t really… feel anything when he saw the twili for the first time, when Malon brought he and Minish into the room to help her out. He had expected to be paralyzed by fear, terrified by the monster that resided in the bed- but the only things that didn’t make the twili look Hylian were light blue skin, dark twili marks, and soft, curly fur at the bases of the twili's ears.

Minish chirped softly to himself as he scampered onto the twili’s chest, the chirps sounding familiar- Hyrule couldn’t help but think that Minish was singing. He never really… considered the picori to sing, but he couldn’t imagine why- they were peaceful creatures to a default, playing with children and leaving rupees scattered around the field.

It always confused him, how Minish seemed to panic when other picori were around. He would run and hide on the nearest family member, cowering under the fabric of their clothes until they left the area. Very odd.

Then again , Hyrule thought, don't I act the same around other faeries?

Hyrule hopped down from the pillows, joining Minish on the twili’s chest. Minish went from singing (?) to chittering, his hands moving as he spoke. Hyrule didn’t have the heart to tell him he couldn’t understand, so he just nodded and hummed along whenever the picori would look back at him.

They traveled down, off the twili's chest and onto the little side table beside the bed- the twili's head was right beside them, but Hyrule found that he didn't care as Minish started to sing (it was definitely singing) again. 

The tune was sweet, obviously an Hylian folk song. Minish began to dance around, his tail fluttering as he spun in circles around the table, stumbling a bit as he stopped but not letting that stop him. Hyrule began to hum along to the song, catching onto the tune; Minish almost seemed to smile as Hyrule sang with him.

Minish extended his hands to Hyrule at one point, the fae taking them without a moment’s hesitation. Minish pulled him into a dance that consisted mostly of spinning each other around, the song punctuated with Hyrule’s laughter and Minish’s clicks that Hyrule knew was his way of laughter. 

They danced and sang with each other, the length of Malon's absence becoming the last thing on Hyrule's mind as he and Minish upped the pace of their dance, the two of them growing out of breath.

During one spin, Hyrule accidentally stepped on Minish's paw- Minish yanked the injured digit away quickly, causing the two of them to fall into a heap on the table. Hyrule's laughter began anew, Minish's clicks being broken up by the picori gasping for air. 

Hyrule pushed himself up onto his hands, breathless laughter still leaving him- Minish sat up, brushing himself off as his clicks died down into chitters-

Then Minish broke into a scream.

Hyrule's head snapped up, looking at the picori; Minish's eyes were wide and panicked as he stared straight ahead, his tail as stiff as a rod.

"What's wrong?" Hyrule asked, then looked-

To see the twili's big, orange eyes staring straight back at them.

Hyrule gasped sharply, falling onto his bottom- he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the twili’s own as Minish’s screams rang in his ears.

Where was Malon?!

The twili sat up, still staring with wide eyes at Hyrule and Minish. 

"Hi," Hyrule whispered; the twili's hand suddenly came into his field of vision, and Minish's screams grew louder and more panicked as he scrambled away-

Leaving Hyrule in the dust.

Hyrule heard an involuntary squeak leave him as clawed fingers closed around his waist- he could hear Minish squealing louder in panic, his tail flickering wildly in the corner of Hyrule’s eye. Hyrule felt his feet leave the ground, his front pressed into one of the twili’s hands.

“Hey, there,” he laughed awkwardly, the laugh pitching upwards as his heart raced. “What- what are you-”

He froze as a claw, sharpened from weeks (or months) of unrestrained growth, dug into his back. Hyrule felt his heart pounding erratically- his hands shook from the cold that plagued them as sickness boiled deep within his belly.

I’m going to die, his mind laughed hysterically. Die from a- I want Malon, I want Malon- a twili claw- I WANT MALON!- skewering me through; I’m going to become a mere snack!

Hyrule jolted as the claw landed right on his shoulder bone, then again as it prodded the other shoulder bone. The twili made a soft, confused sound- one that sounded more like a small child inspecting something new than Hyrule’s possible reason of death. 

“Wings?”

The voice was quiet, almost inaudible. Minish stopped squealing in panic, Hyrule’s ears ringing from the sudden quiet. Hyrule felt his eyebrows crease together. 

What…?

“What did you say?” Hyrule asked, his wiggling beginning anew. He managed to flip himself around so that he was facing the twili, unable to hold in his gasp as the twili’s thumb landed heavy across Hyrule’s stomach, anchoring him down to the palm of the twili’s hand. 

There was quiet, then the twili spoke; the voice was rough, crackling and breaking like ice in warm water. 

“Wings?” 

“Ah-” Hyrule looked into the strange eyes of the twili, something twisting within his gut at the expression they held. It felt… familiar. The twisting feeling within him, too, was familiar-

But why?

“No wings,” he finally stuttered out, feebly shrinking under the intense gaze. “They- gone. They are gone.”

The twili’s head tilted, blinking slowly- the twili symbol that resided on his forehead warping as eyebrows drew together. Silence covered them like a thick blanket; even Minish, who constantly chirped or purred or squeaked, was quiet.

"Why?" The twili croaked, voice cracking at the end. 

Shit!

"An accident," Hyrule replied quickly; then began to curse himself out internally. Too quick! Dammit, Hyrule! 

Luckily, the twili didn't seem to notice his mistake. Instead, the twili was looking at Minish, who was creeping up his arm slowly; the twili's eyes lazily following along with Minishs' woosh-ing tail. 

Minish didn't seem to notice, inching up the twili's arm slowly but surely. He grunted in effort, pulling himself up onto the hand that held Hyrule-

And the twili copied him. A grunt left through the twili’s nose, a few pitches deeper than Minish’s own- 

Minish squealed, jumping off of the twili’s arm and onto the blankets, scrambling to hide- the twili was quiet for only a moment, then a crackly, reedy version of Minish’s squeal rose out of the twili’s throat.

Minish’s head peeked out from his hiding spot, confusion evident. He softly squeaked again, the twili’s head tilting- he responded in kind, Minish creeping a bit more out of his hiding spot.

Minish chirped, the twili copying him- the twili’s hand began to sink, his hold growing loose enough for Hyrule to wriggle out and onto the bedsheets. He made his way back to the bedside table as quickly as he could, sitting down once he got there. The twili offered his hand to Minish, repeating the chirping noise. 

Minish looked at his hand, hesitating- then he climbed on, taking hold of the twili's thumb. 

Hyrule felt a smile grow on his face, the expression mirrored by the twili.

Minish squeaked again, purring a bit at the end- the twili tried his best to copy the sounds, his mouth stretched out like a childs' did when they learned new words.

… wait.  

It was then, with another twist deep within Hyrule’s gut, did he realize- the twili was young. 

The twili was a mere child. 

Not as young as he, or Wild- the twili could possibly rival Warriors or even Time in height. But, still, the twili was young- Hyrule had seen the same wide-eyed, curious expression on Ravio so many times before. 

The twili hostage was nothing more than a kid.

Chapter Text

Wild dipped his quill into the inkpot, quietly humming a song he had heard earlier that day. The hum of conversation below him droned like a swarm of quiet bees; it had gotten back to the same level of noise it normally was before... today's incident.

His nose wrinkled as the memory, still fresh in his mind, played again; Malon and he had gotten into an argument at dinner, where Wild had proceeded to piss Malon off enough that she made him up and leave the table, in the middle of dinner, and go to his room. She had then shouted up the stairs for Wild to do his damn homework until he was allowed out again, to which Wild had stomped on the floor, enough to make the paintings on the walls shake. 

That had all happened an hour ago, so now Wild just sat at his desk with his study questions about Hyrule Historia as he wondered, for what felt like the hundredth time, why the hell Princess Flora was so into the damn book. It wasn’t like she was the next in line to the throne or anything- Princess Artemis was. 

Unless, of course, Princess Flora murdered Princess Artemis, but Wild doubted Princess Flora could ever do that.

The next question on his paper was something about the Gerudo and Hylian relationship from one hundred years ago, and if Wild was downstairs he would ask Warriors about it but he was banned to his bedroom so he couldn’t. But that was fine, that was just fine because Wild had been wanting to get away from how tense the room was because holy Hylia, it was so tense and it wasn’t really his fault that Malon couldn’t take a joke. 

It wasn’t really his fault that she decided to let an imp into the house, either, and yet here they were. 

He Lynel-shitted his way through the Gerudo and Hylian question, tapping the fingers of his free hand on his desk as he wrote. He almost made a mess on his paper because Time laughed really loud out of nowhere, but Wild was able to save his paper in time and resisted the urge to stomp on the floor. Knowing Time, he would probably just laugh louder or do the same to Wild when given the chance.

Bastard. 

Next question. When and why did Queen Zelda XII launch the first siege onto the Zora’s Domain?

Wild began writing his answer, finding that, one, the answer was ridiculously easy (it was in the year 285, and it was because the Zora backed out on a trade agreement), and two, Wild couldn’t understand how in Hylia’s name he was supposed to stretch that out to 250 words.

Well, Wild thought, dipping his quill back into the inkpot. Time to Lynel-shit my way through this... again.

He began to write, letting his mind wander as he repeated himself about a million times, counting his words meticulously about every five minutes- he suddenly got a burst of inspiration to mention the Rito famine around that time, as it was theorized that the Zora only backed out because they wished to help the Rito people out. 

I'm a Goddess-damn genius, Wild thought proudly. Then, as he wrote down the first Rito on his paper, I miss Sky.

He had wanted to bring Sky to Lon Lon Ranch this time, because at least Sky was fun... when he was off his drugs, off course. Drugged-up Sky just kinda… sat around and smiled a lot, and sometimes he would laugh but it would only be when other people laughed and Wild always thought it was kinda creepy because he would try to mimic the person laughing, and it was just really, really weird all around. 

(He had tried to mess with Sky when he was still high, once. That resulted in Sky crying and his feathers being shed all over the place because of stress and Wild was put on manure duty for a week because of it which was totally not fair, but whatever. It was fine. It was in the past, and when he asked Sky about it when he was actually mentally present Sky had told him he had no idea what he was going on about, so Wild had gotten off pretty scot-free.)

Give or take a day, though, then Sky would be fun again. He played with Ravio a lot, which was kinda annoying, but Sky had told him once that Ravio reminded him of some Zora kid that Sky hung out with at the castle. And that Sky missed him. So that made it okay, he guessed. Wild would just have to wait until Ravio was napping or sleeping for the night and then Sky and he would hang...

Ah, fuck. Wild shook himself out of his own mind to see that one, he had been doodling mindlessly on his paper instead of answering the question; two, his quill had ran out of ink Hylia knows how long ago, and three, the damn nib was dulled. 

His nose wrinkled as he took in the state of the nib, trying to sharpen it with his nails but only succeeding in getting his fingers all inky from the sneaky bits of wet ink that were hiding, waiting to strike. Shit. 

He could go downstairs and steal a new quill from Time’s seemingly never-ending supply, but he shot that idea down quickly because he couldn’t, you know, go downstairs lest he face the wrath of Malon. Sneaking downstairs was a dumb idea, because one, he didn’t have his stealth boots that absorbed most if not all sound, and two, the stairs were right in front of the dinner table. He couldn’t have sneaked down if he tried, unless he was a picori like Minish.

It’s that damn imp’s fault, he thought, bitterly throwing his quill down on his desk. He got up, his back cracking in a way that made him really understand what it was like to be an old man like Time. He fell onto his bed, face-planting into his pillow. His dinner turned sour in his stomach as he thought about the thing that he just now realized had been on the same floor as him for however long ago he had come upstairs. 

The imp had caused nothing but trouble ever since Time brought it home a week ago. Malon was tired all the time because she had to constantly take care of it, which made her way closer to snapping than she had been before. Time was tired too- more tired than usual. He didn’t get angry like Malon, but he was either with the imp or sitting at the dinner table, staring blankly into the fireplace as he held a cup of coffee.

That was another thing. Time drank nearly all the damn coffee in the house within the week the imp was in the house. How in Demise's realm was Wild supposed to wake up in the morning if Time was hogging it all?

Nothing but trouble, he thought again, pulling mindlessly on some of his hair.

---

Wild must have fallen asleep then, because when he opened his eyes it was to someone knocking at the door. He made a sound like a Bokoblin, the door creaking open seconds later. Malon came in with his half finished dinner that, judging by how warm it still was, had been sitting by the fire- Wild’s stomach growled a little, but he was still too tired to do anything except struggle to keep his eyes open as Malon came to sit by his bedside. She was calmer now- her face wasn’t rivalling the shade of her hair anymore, and her voice was back to being gentle as opposed to the loud shouting that bordered on screaming that it had been. 

She still scolded him for talking bad about the twili and how it wasn’t planning to murder them all in their beds, which Wild would’ve laughed at if he wasn’t still fighting off sleep… and if he wanted to ruin the really, really nice way Malon was talking to him that made him feel safe and warm and like he wanted to crawl into her arms forever and never leave. 

Malon had a really nice voice, when she wasn’t screaming. 

She told him that he was on manure duty for the next week, which he stuck his bottom lip about and whined like a kicked puppy until she pushed his lip back into his mouth with her finger and told him she’d extend it to two weeks if he wasn’t careful.

He shut up real quick at that.

Guilt curled in his stomach as they talked, and when he eventually apologized for making her mad at dinner she just toyed with his hair, brushing it away from his left eye (not that she needed to or anything; it wasn't like he could see out of that eye.) 

Think about your words next time , she told him, then gently smacked his cheek enough so that it didn't hurt but he could still feel it. And don't you go pickin' fights with me again, y'hear?

Yes ma'am, he said, and Malon smiled; then she pulled him up by his shoulders and pointed to the dinner plate that sat on the desk. 

Now eat your food, I ain't lettin' you waste it.

Yes, ma'am.

Chapter Text

Wild liked to believe he had great ideas. Actually, he knew for a fact he had great ideas- all the boys in the castle thought so, which was why Wild was the leader of his troop. His boys all thought he had simply excellent ideas, along with Princess Flora herself thinking so- why else would she choose him to be her companion/future knight over all the other choices she had?

“Because she thinks you’re hot,” Hyrule said suddenly, and Wild blinked in surprise.

“Did I-”

“Yep.”

... Whoops.

Wild suddenly felt the heat of all the candles that were in the room on his face, briefly wondering why he was just now feeling the warmth before shaking the thought out of his head. It didn’t matter. What did matter was his great idea, which he now had to pitch to Hyrule.

Hyrule, who was busy laying on a pillow and under a blanket on Wild’s writing desk, and also busy looking in just the most unimpressed way at Wild. Or, Wild thought he looked unimpressed- for some reason, emotions were harder to read when Wild was laying upside down on his bed, his feet and body on the covers while his head hung off the side. 

Wild grinned at him.

"Wanna do something fun?"

“Depends,” Hyrule called from the desk. “What is it?”

Wild hummed, stretching his arms from where they were on his stomach to where they were touching the floor- he drummed the floorboards a few times with his fingers. 

“You know the imp,” he began, turning his palms towards the ceiling. 

“... yeah,” Hyrule said- he didn’t sound as excited anymore, which just simply wouldn’t do, because if Wild was going to go through with his plan he wasn't going to do it alone. "Wild, don't-"

"Listen!" Wild cut in, adding in some more excitement to his voice to help Hyrule out. "I'm not sayin' we hurt it, I just... wanna look at it."

"Look at him? Wild-" 

"Have you seen that things teeth?" Wild asked, his heart starting to pound. "The thing has fuckin' daggers! I'm not sayin' we mess with it, we just..." Wild shrugged. "Look at it. Its' teeth." 

"You're insane."

“And you’re boring!” 

Not to mention like Time, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest and sending an upside down pout in Hyrule’s direction. 

Against Wilds’ will, the trip from the castle to the Ranch cropped up again in his memory. Time had told him be gentle, be gentle on repeat whenever Wild would even just look at the creature, which was dumb because how could he not ‘be gentle’ when he was just looking at it? Stupid. 

"It'll be fun," Wild finally said, a distant scoff coming from Hyrule. "The thing won't wake up, it's too drugged up-"

"Wild!" 

"What?!" A touch of anger began to bubble in his gut. "Out of everyone in the house-"

"You're being mean!" Hyrule squawked, and Wild nearly damn laughed.

" You're acting like Malon."

“I’m-”

“Come on, Hyrule!” Wild sat up, wobbling around on his feet as the blood rushed from his head to the rest of his body. He still smiled, though- most of it was just a front to kick Hyrule’s confidence up a few notches, but Hyrule didn’t need to know that. “Don’t you like having fun?”

“What about this sounds fun?!” Hyrule squeaked, sounding so anxious and scared Wild couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how ridiculous Hyrule was being. He wasn’t the one that was more in danger, after all- Wild was. “Wild-”

“It’ll be fine! The imp’s practically your best friend at this point, isn’t it?” Wild asked, and for some reason he felt a twinge of something in his chest that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He shook his body a little to quell the odd feeling, then held his hand out to the little faerie. “It’ll see you and not attack, or… whatever. It’ll be fun, I promise!” 

Hyrule hesitated for one, two, three minutes. Wild kept his hand out the entire time, but was starting to feel twitchy and annoyed and just about to say ‘so be it’ and go the whole mission by himself, but then Hyrule loudly sighed out of his mouth and stepped aboard.

Grinning in a way that Wild knew made him look like a madman, Wild set the little fae upon his shoulder, grabbed a dagger (that Hyrule damn near fainted at) and a thick hand towel, then they quietly made their way down the hall to where the imp was. 

Even though Wild didn’t have his stealth boots on, he still didn’t make a sound as he slipped down the hall- it was late enough at night that not even Time and Malon were awake.

 Wild actually used to believe Time and Malon never slept, back when he was a little kid. He wasn’t really sure why he thought this, other than the fact that they went to bed late and woke up early; he was quite literally shocked when he went into their room one night and found them both (surprise!) sleeping like normal people. 

He was a stupid little kid, to say the least. 

Finally, they made it to where the imp was. After patting blindly on the door to find the doorknob with Hyrule hissing directions in his ear, Wild was able to creak the door open. His heart pounded with excitement, his ears twitching around as they worked on overdrive to hear anything. As opposed to the nearly pitch-black hallway, the room had a window- one that the moon was able to illuminate the room with, including Wild’s prize- the beast itself.

As he entered the room, he could feel his knees lowering, his back arching until he could touch the ground with his free hand. He snuck up to the bed, craning his neck to see the imp- it was sleeping, facing the wall opposite of where Wild was. 

Perfect.

Wild sprang up to his full height, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Hyrule nervously rambled from his shoulder, his voice high and reedy. Wow, it’s a twili! Cool, great, let’s go now, le- OH GODDESSES WILD, WHAT ARE YOU-

“Shh!” Wild hissed, wrapping the daggers’ blade in the towel. “It’s like you want us to get caught,” he added under his breath, earning a sharp slap that felt similar to an angry little gnat bite. “Hey!” He snapped, still keeping his voice low as he continued. “Do that again, and-”

“Can’t we just go?” Hyrule whined, tugging on Wild’s shirt. “You don’t need to-”

“- I’ll pin you through and add you to my brand-new butterfly collection if you don’t shut up!” Wild made a move to grab Hyrule around his waist, but stopped a few inches from his shoulder- he made his hand into a claw and shook it a bit for emphasis. 

The little fae didn’t say anything else. 

Wild dropped his hand, testing the towel-wrapped blade. It was safe to wrap his hand around; exactly as he had wanted.

Ignoring Hyrule’s hissed warnings and general whining and complaining, Wild crouched back down in case his prize awoke at any time during the next few minutes. He eased the knife handle towards the beasts’ upper lip at a painfully slow pace, freezing at each small creak and crack that echoed like ice breaking in his ears. 

Closer… closer…

Landed!

Wild propped himself up a tad bit more to watch as his makeshift stick pushed the upper lip of the beast out of the way, revealing its’ sharp, dagger-like teeth with perfect lighting from the moon. Wild stared at them in fascination, his mind darkly bringing up images of the beasts’ past victims and how it must have ripped into their soft bodies, tearing away flesh and life alike-

Wild shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts, a shiver going through his body. Eugh.

Taking the knife away, the imps’ upper lip dropped, though not all the way- it was stuck on its now-dry teeth, making it look like it was sneering.

Wild sneered back. 

Be nice, Wild.

Time’s voice suddenly rang through Wild’s head like the man had fucking possessed him, which was super fucking creepy and made Wild stumble back because he had thought Time somehow snuck in behind him and had made no sound whatsoever.

“What’s wrong?!” Hyrules’ tiny voice cried as Wild caught himself from crashing on the ground- he froze as the board he landed on creaked loudly, making Hyrule yelp in surprise and causing the absolute fucking worst thing to happen-

The imp woke up. 

It sat up like it had been shocked, rubbing its face and eyes. Wild’s tongue began to taste sour and acid curled in his stomach as the beasts’ hands dropped from its face, looking out the window- Wild could see that the imps eyes were orange and red in the reflection. 

It didn't seem to want to look away from the outdoors, as the seconds dragged on into minutes that felt like hours. With his blood pumping cold throughout his body, Wild pushed himself from sitting to a position that was the same but with his ass off the ground, letting him crabwalk slowly to the thankfully still-open door. 

Don't look away, Wild begged the imp internally, inching closer to the door as his eyes never left the back of the imps head. Don't look away, don't look away, don't look, don't look, don't-

Wilds' foot landed on a creaky floorboard. 

The imps ear twitched, its head snapped in his direction, its eyes landed on him, and Wild fucking bolted.

Wild gave no fucks how loudly his feet were pounding on the floor, waking everyone else in the house up- he didn’t care about Hyrule screaming, the fae yelling in gibberish that Wild could assume was an angry lecture in Fae that was directed right at him- though, if he was being perfectly honest, Wild couldn’t care what it was at the moment as his door approached quickly.

Wild reached his room, scrambled in, then slammed the door shut. 

Keeping his back against the door, Wild let out a sigh- he slid down, his legs shaking like he was a newborn foal. 

"You alive?" He asked Hyrule, who let out a squeaky 'uh huh' before- "Ow!" 

"You fucking idiot!" Hyrule raged, kicking the spot on Wild's neck again and making him cringe. Hyrule's feet were sharp. The fae scaled down Wild's arm, storming to his knee where he turned and glared up at Wild in what Wild could only describe as fury. "What in Demise's realm made you think that was a good idea? Are you fucking possessed?! I should've fucking stopped you, what was I thinking- stop laughing!"

"Sorry," Wild giggled, his hand lifting to cover his mouth in a vain effort to stifle his laughter. "It's just- you're so small- and did you see- ha!" 

Wild hugged his stomach, bending in half as he started to laugh more- tears came to his eyes as his belly grew sore, nerves and anxiousness coming together in just an excellent combination as Wild laughed and couldn't stop laughing.

"You're insane," Hyrule said at one point, and with a small stab in his chest Wild could hear disappointment in his tone; but then the stabbing feeling grew really fucking funny and Wild couldn't help but laugh even more.

"S-sorry-y," he wheezed out, cracking his eyes open to see Hyrule, arms crossed, his glare rivaling Time's. "Just- holy shit!"

Wild fell into another fit of giggles, curling up on his side on the ground- Hyrule rolled his eyes as he delicately jumped off Wild's knee, giving him room to curl on his side.

"You're gonna be in so much trouble," Hyrule grumbled, Wild shrieking in laughter at the prospect.