Chapter Text
Legend has seen a lot of dangerous things in his lifetime. He’s been on five adventures for Hylia’s sake. There are not a lot of things that can phase him anymore.
Another dank dungeon in need of exploration? Easy. Another monster whose weak point is inexplicably a giant eye that glows? Piece of cake. A realm of unfathomable darkness? Been there, done that, didn't even get any cool items from it.
But this… now this scares him.
“Nose goes,” Legend says flatly, flashing a finger up to touch the tip of his nose despite the fact that he is one of only two people standing in front of said insurmountable task.
“I’m not going in there,” Warriors hisses, not even trying to honor Legend’s ‘Nose Goes ,’ his hands resting firmly on his hips, face incredulous as he stares down their target. “What do I look like? An idiot?”
“Oh, you don’t just look like one,” Legend assures him dryly, brows raised, smile bright and full and smarmy.
Warriors shoves him.
“If you think it’s so easy, why don't you just go in then?” the Captain spits.
But before Legend can get out another snarky response, the sound of movement , of creaking wood, sends both heroes stumbling away from the structure they had been standing next to, their hands flying up to shield their faces from harm as they wince away from what will no doubt be their end.
A beat passes between them, neither moving in fear of incurring a terrible wrath…
...
But after a second with no horrifying retribution, the two breathe a sigh of relief, eyeing up their foe.
The cucco coop.
They both shudder.
“Are you sure he’s in there?” Warriors whispers after another cautious moment of silence. “We could check the barn again.”
And as much as it would make Legend’s day to just check the barn again, he shakes his head.
“This is the only place we haven’t looked,” he reminds the scarf wearing hero with a scowl, “Besides, for some goddess forsaken reason, he happens to like these little menaces. If there was anywhere on this farm Sky would be, it's here.”
Warrior’s face screws up.
“Ugh, why can’t we just have dinner without him?”
“Because Time’s a stubborn old bastard with a parental streak the size of the moon,” Legend bites out. And then, with a bit less bitterness. “And because Malon wants to have family dinner or whatever.”
“She made cornbread,” Warriors laments with a small shake of his head, “I at least wanted to try a little before I kicked it.”
Legend smacks him on the arm.
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic and you know it!” Warriors replies, voice jumping an octave. “Those things are vicious killers! Goddess only knows what we would have done in my era without Linkle taming them. Feathery bastards can change the tide of war in an instant!”
Legend rolls his eyes.
“Okay, yeah,” the Veteran admits, “those things could pick a moblin clean faster than you could blink, but I’m not saying we have to fight them to the death. We just have to take a peek in the coop and see if Sky’s in there. If he is, great, we tell him dinner’s ready and get the hell out of dodge. If he isn’t, sweet, we get the hell out of dodge even faster and tell Time we couldn't find him.”
“Oh, well then, if it's so simple” Warriors replies, bowing deeply and gesturing to the coop with a flourishing arm, “After you.”
“No, no, no. You lost ‘Nose Goes’,” Legend reminds. “You have to do it.”
“You can’t call ‘Nose Goes’ with just two people!”
“I think you’ll find that I did. And you lost.” Legend grins and mirrors Warrior’s bow and flourish. “So, after you.”
The Captain narrows his eyes.
“How about this?" the Pretty Boy bargains. "I open the door, and for fifty rupees, you look inside?”
Legend purses his lips, eyes flicking from Warriors to the coop. On the one hand, War did lose Nose Goes. There really should be no bargaining going on here. Legend has the moral high ground in this particular situation. Not to mention that it would absolutely make his day to see the pompous captain get knocked down several pegs by a couple of birds.
And Legend really isn't looking to get his eyes pecked out today.
But on the other hand, depriving the Captain of even more of his hard earned cash is a pretty good incentive. Plus, he’ll need to squirrel some more rupees away back home if this whole ‘Ravio staying with him’ thing is gonna be a bit more permanent.
He’s got no idea how in the name of the Wind Fish Ravio even made it to his Hyrule let alone if the idiot can even get himself back to Lorule.
And Legend can’t have that rabbit hooded bastard selling his equipment just to put food on the table for however long he’s staying.
“Seventy-five and it's a deal,” Legend replies, holding a hand out for the Captain to shake on it.
A roll of eyes from Warriors but he takes Legend’s hand all the same, giving it a firm shake.
Sucker.
Legend only said he would look inside. Not get Sky if he saw him in there.
They take up their positions in front of the coop; War’s hand on the door handle, ready to pull it open while Legend situates himself around the corner, primed to take a quick peek inside and then retreat just as quickly.
“On three,” Warriors breathes.
“One.”
Warrior’s grip on the doorknob tightens, the leather of his gloves creaking slightly with the force of his grasp.
“Two.”
Legend feels his muscle tense, the cords of his neck straining as he readies himself for his dive, his newest in a line of near death experiences.
A breath in.
A breath out.
“Three!”
With a flick of the wrist and jolt of the arm, Warriors whips the door to the cucco coop wide open. In the same instant, Legend darts his top half around the corner of the coop, peeking into the dim depths of the pen and–!
And…
Huh.
Legend is not met with a flurry of feathers spelling his demise. Isn’t met with the death rattle of squakes nor clawed with an inch of his life in seconds nor immediately assaulted with an avalanche of pecks that could drill straight to the bone.
No.
Legend is met with none of the things he expects and is instead faced with one of the most miraculous sights he has ever beheld.
Because inside the coop, in the dim warmth of their little home, all of the hens sit politely on their nests, heads perked and turned toward the intruding light, but otherwise, unbothered by the hero standing in their doorway. Not a ruffled feather in sight nor any eyes gleaming with deadly, avian hatred.
Nope.
They are perfectly relaxed. Perfectly within their element and domain, not a care in the world. In fact, after a moment of staring at Legend with what the Veteran could only describe as royal indifference, the cuccos settle back down, heads tucking into downy white feathers or disappearing under wings.
“Well?” Warriors whispers from behind the door where he is taking shelter, “Is he in there?”
“Not sure,” Legend replies.
He takes a tentative step forward, eyes locked on the birds as he carefully places one boot within the threshold of the coop. No reaction. He leans weight onto that foot, flinching as the wood groans beneath his mass.
…
Still no reaction.
Welp, Legend thinks with no small amount of dryness. No excuse not to make sure Sky isn't in here.
“Give me a sec,” he breathes back to War, taking another, more confident step into the coop. “I'm going to check.”
“No, wait, Legend, they’re lulling you into a false sense of security! You can’t just–!”
The Veteran ignores Warrior’s hissed warnings, confidently going from the frying pan and into the fire.
Or from the barnyard to the cucco coop. Whatever.
Besides the sight of the oddly tame cuccos, Legend is immediately hit with a slight wave of heat as he enters the coop proper, the temperature inside that of a warm blanket against his face and body. He is also hit with the smell of hay, grassy and dry and warm.
A quick scan of the coop gives Legend no leads on Sky. No light green tunic, no dirty blond hair, no Master Sword, no white sailcloth. It does, however, tell him that Time may be missing a few hens, as four nests seem to be vacant.
He takes another quick sweep and is just about to label Sky a lost cause when something in the corner of the coop shifts and makes a soft huff, sending Legend’s heart into his throat and his arms up around his face, fearing that this, this will be the end of him. Five adventures down, Ganon killed three times by his hands, multiple kingdoms and deities saved due to his actions, and he's going to die to some fucking poultry.
But after a beat, a moment, a full minute of not moving and with Legend not being absolutely smote where he stands, the pink haired hero slowly but surely peaks out from behind his arms to see the cuccos still just sitting in their nests, now gazing at him with what he thinks is exasperation.
Which really shouldn't be possible, because, you know, they’re fucking birds. Their eyes really shouldn't be that expressive. And yet, as Legend uncurls from his wince completely, as his heart rate calms from the stutter step it had been running through, he can’t help feel the condescension in their beady little golden eyes.
Little pricks , he thinks a little viciously as he subtly flips one of them the bird– ironic, he knows– turning to investigate the noise that had nearly given him a heart attack a few seconds earlier. I hope Malon cooked one of you for dinner.
Sure that he's not about to be absolutely eviscerated, Legend follows the noise, a soft, rhythmic huffing, to one of the hay filled corners of the coop that had been obscured by the line of nests and...
And, really, he should have known.
Trust Hylia’s Chosen Hero to fall asleep in literally the most dangerous place known to Hylians.
Because there, in a soft pile of hay in the corner of Time’s cucco coop, is Sky, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as he takes in breaths, slow and deep and even and warm. His sailcloth is layed out beneath him, no doubt protecting him from the prickly hay as he naps peacefully, none the wiser that four cuccos have found him a suitable enough pseudo nest to be napping right along with him: one tucked under each arm, another resting on his slowly rising and falling chest, and the last finding a home in his soft, dirty blond hair.
Legend takes it all in. Takes in the way the birds churr in time with Sky’s soft snores, the way bits of hay have found their way into the Skyloftian's hair, the way the small sliver of light entering the coop from the open doorway illuminates the floating dust particles in shades of sunset gold, the way they swirl in little eddies with each of the Chosen Hero’s breaths.
It truly is a tableau of peace.
Too bad it’s dinner time.
“Alright, Lover Boy,” Legend huffs, reaching out to shake the Chosen Hero awake. “Up and at ‘em. Malon made dinner and–”
Before Legend’s hand can even make contact with Sky’s shoulder, a rising grumble shatters the relative peace of the coop.
All around him, the heads of all the cuccos snap up in tandem, pinning Legend in place with at least 20 pairs of molten gold eyes as the grumble– which he now realizes is the sound of the four hens sitting with Sky hissing at him– rises in volume and anger.
With slow and controlled movements, Legend pulls his hand back from where it had been moving toward the somehow still sleeping Sky and raises both palms up in surrender.
The eyes follow the motions of his hands with deadly precision but the cuccos make no move to strike.
So Legend does the most logical thing anyone would do in his situation:
He gives up without a fight, keeping his hands raised where the birds can see them while slowly backpedaling out of the coop.
Then, when he finally crosses the threshold back out of the coop, Legend takes the edge of the door into both his hands, and carefully, gently, closes the coop back up.
“So?” Warriors asks, hands on hips, staring at Legend's odd display “Was he in there?”
“Yep,” Legend replies flatly, popping the ‘p’ as tension bleeds out of his muscles.
A brief pause.
“And?” Warriors intones expectantly.
Legend turns to the other hero, clasps a firm hand on the Captain’s shoulder, and smiles.
“And good luck getting him out of there. You’re sure as hell gonna need it.”
And with that, the Veteran turns and strides back toward the farm house, ignoring the indignant sputterings of the scarf wearing hero all the way there.
Wind Fish, he hopes Time has something stronger than Lon Lon Milk.
‘Cuz after the number those demon birds just did on him? He's gonna need it.
And based on the screaming coming from behind him, he assumes Warriors is gonna need it too.