Chapter Text
Urbosa was a little annoyed, but Mipha was delighted, and Daruk gave him a loud and booming laugh. (Revali had rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, but Link was coming to expect that from him.)
In the early hours of the afternoon, Link surprised the old man with what was apparently a nearly perfect replica of the dish he’d talked so much about the night before. The man’s delighted surprise made Link feel warm, but not as warm as the warm doublet the man gave him as thanks.
It was much more comfortable than the old shirt he’d been wearing, if a little loose.
For good measure, Link brewed a few elixirs under Mipha’s direction – a hasty elixir with some hightail lizards, a mighty one with some beetles, a spicy one just in case – and then checked his map one last time, waved to the old man, and left, already wearing the warm doublet.
From Owa Daim, he got another rune, one that stopped time, and a ball of magic that pulsed in his chest alongside the first.
A trek across the mountain led him to Keh Namut, where he got a third rune, to make ice with, and another orb to match.
Then, followed by the murmurs of his friends, he climbed to the top of the mountain, sat there, and watched the beast writhe around the castle until the sun set.
I’m going to save her, he signed with conviction, eyes on the distance. But it was hard to make himself believe it. Just the thought of going near the ruins made him cold, and he rubbed his arms apprehensively.
The light gleamed oddly off the back of his hand, and he looked down at something he had just started to notice, coming out of Owa Daim’s shrine.
It looked like soul paint, the faintest shade off the color of his skin, except it was too perfect, too crisp: three triangles arranged into a larger one, with tight corners and straight lines. It felt familiar; it felt important.
He wished he understood more about what he was meant to do and why.
Daruk and Mipha finally teamed up to coax him back down, and he hiked partway down the mountain again, crushed another bokoblin camp under boulders, and slept by the fire, guarded by his friends, one hand on his as-yet-unused rusty sword. He felt jittery and on-edge, but that didn’t keep him from being exhausted enough to pass out almost as soon as his head hit the ground, forgetting to even eat.
Link woke the next morning with cotton in his mouth and something awful and sickening crawling on his bones. The sun gleamed too brightly off the snow; the fire had burnt out overnight. His friends didn’t seem bothered, already awake and talking quietly, though they stopped when he stirred and pushed himself tentatively upright.
Something about the motion made him grind his teeth, a nearly painful sense of vertigo sweeping through him. Like just the effort of keeping track of how his limbs moved was setting his nerves aflame. It was worse than the lingering stiffness and ache from the exertion of the previous day, climbing and jumping and running around that his body wasn’t used to.
“Morning, little brother,” Daruk greeted loudly, eyes crinkling in a grin as he watched Link move. “Ready to get down to cracking rocks?”
Link hummed reluctantly, low in his throat. He needed to keep moving – couldn’t let himself be any more of a disappointment. He snuck a glance down at the road, some way down from where he was, and mentally followed it to its inevitable end.
To the abbey ruins, and the massive glowing eye as big as his head that made his heart race hard enough to hurt. A deafening chirp of alarm as it focused on him.
He felt sick.
Not now, he signed without looking at anyone, and fumbled for his sword, got up, and paused for a split second, mentally running over the sword drill Mipha had helped him remember two days before.
He took a breath, feeling eyes on him, and took it step by step, slow and deliberate.
The motions felt familiar, almost as if they were bringing his body back into line. His nerves still threatened to spark painfully with each practiced swing. Twice he turned too fast and had to clench his jaw against something like nausea. The three spirit orbs the monks had gifted him hummed loudly in Link’s chest.
He didn’t deserve them. He didn’t deserve the patience of the people with him or the old man waiting for Link to do as he’d asked.
Link completed the set, and without hesitation started it again.
What if he failed? What if he wasn’t ever able to get to that last shrine? Urbosa had been very sharp in her command to flee – how hard would that machine, that guardian hit if he was too slow?
Link tasted bile, and it was only then that he realized his stomach was roiling.
As he completed his third repetition, Mipha stood up, tilting her head up to look at him with gentle understanding that made Link want to look away. She stood beside him and, without a word, started a different set, modeling it slowly enough for him to follow. Link copied her, and this one felt just as familiar.
He swallowed thickly and nodded, trying to convey his gratitude. He ran through it twice more, speeding up with each circuit, and Mipha showed him a third, quiet and patient.
He just needed his hands to stop shaking. If his hands stopped shaking, he’d be steady enough to go.
“We should get going,” Urbosa said as he completed his second cycle of that one, her voice tinged with the lightest censure. “There’s really no time to waste.”
Revali grunted in agreement.
Irrational terror chilled Link’s stomach, crystallizing into spiked horror. He didn’t look at any of them before he stuck his sword in the snow and retreated, everything finally tipping over into the realm of ‘too much.’
In less than a minute, Link had crammed himself into a cave to rub his thighs and scratch his arms and hide. The darkness and the small space comforted him, but only a little. Every loud noise made him rub his ear against the cave wall, and he couldn’t make himself process the conversation coming from outside. His ears rang with a distant, tense whine.
What was wrong with him?
Eventually, Mipha came along and sat just outside the little alcove. Her voice was soothing, pitched low and soft, the green of her palm clear as she held her hand out peacefully. It took Link a moment to grudgingly tune into her actual words.
“-like to run your hands over things when you can,” Mipha was telling him with too much patience. “Why don’t you play with the snow for a bit? I think it will help. You always seem to run hot when you’re overstimulated.”
Link made a displeased grunt in his throat, but reached down to run his fingers through the rough snow anyway. The top layer was stiff, packed ice, like it had been there for a long time, melting together and refreezing. He broke it up in his fingers, crushing it under his thick gloves, until it was powdery and loose, dampening his gloves a little.
He scooped up another handful and crushed it against his legs, grinding it down roughly. It felt… nice. Better. He repeated it, rubbing it against his arms where he’d left rough red lines from scratching. It sapped the heat from him, coaxing him back into himself, and he exhaled quietly.
Slowly, laboriously, Link unwound, until he felt like he could breathe again. His fingers were numb, and he was starting to shiver. His nose was running in the icy air, and the tips of his ears were whipped raw. But his skeleton had stopped trying to crawl out of his flesh.
He tipped his head against the cave wall, reached up to tug tiredly at his hair, and after a few minutes of quiet, he looked up at Mipha and signed, I think I can climb down the mountain now.
He didn’t promise anything else, but Mipha smiled at him anyway, warm and pleased. “That’s great, Link. We’ll go when you’re ready.”
Link nodded, hid his face against the cave wall for a few more minutes, and then stood up, shook himself off, and started to trek down the trail, making his winding way to the gate.
“Oh, finally,” he clearly heard Revali mutter, and then he was taking off and flying down with a flap. Link wondered vaguely why he’d waited in the first place.
Urbosa fell in just to the side of Link, arms crossed and visibly impatient. “You should take the last shrine today,” she said without hesitation, stern eyes on Link. “You’ve taken quite enough time as it is.”
Link shook his head, refusing to look at her. I can’t. I’m too… He gestured, vague and wordless, unable to explain how stretched-thin and shaky he still felt.
“You can,” Urbosa said firmly, and neither Daruk or Mipha disagreed with her.
Link made the mistake of looking at her. There was an edge of desperation to her expression, belying the sternness of her voice.
“Zelda needs you to,” Urbosa added, something shadowed and worried in her eyes.
Link stared at her, heart speeding up unpleasantly again, then nodded. Urbosa nodded back, some of the tension leaking out of her shoulders in unmistakable relief.
The walk down the mountain, around the bokoblin camps, and sneaking past the lynel was stiflingly quiet. Daruk commented on their surroundings a couple times – on the bomb barrels in one of the camps, on the sledgehammer lying abandoned on a cliff ledge, on a little pond with a few fish that would have saved them two trips past the lynel – but when no one moved to answer, he eventually subsided, visibly dissatisfied.
Finally, they reached the ruins, just coming into sight of the largest cluster of half-buried guardians outside of the temple. Thirty feet from the entrance, Link’s legs locked up and refused to move. As soon as he came closer, they were going to pour out of the ruins like spiders. He knew it. He could see it.
Ears twitching with fear, hands clasped to his elbows, Link just stared at the entrance in the distance, unable to unfreeze from his place. When Mipha spoke to him, he couldn’t reply. He couldn’t even hear her.
All he could hear was the whine of the waking machine. The bright single eye staring directly at him. His breath dragged and his blood pounded.
They were coming. They were waiting for him.
Time passed and the sun dipped into the horizon, and suddenly Urbosa was between him and the ruins entrance, expression heavy and the yellow paint on her cheek cast in shadow. He refocused on her, slow and disoriented, and she sighed quietly, expression softening in resignation.
“That’s enough, Link. You did well to try. We’ll return to the cabin,” she said, and the concession sounded like failure and Link was too relieved to care. She turned and walked away, taking the cliff path past the lynel, and he finally, finally, unfroze enough to follow.
The sun had set by the time they reached the old man’s cabin, and Revali was waiting, scowling with impatience and seated at the table. The old man just smiled warmly.
“How did it go?” he asked cheerfully.
Instead of answering, Link sat himself in the corner, curled up, and started twisting one ear in his fingers. His breath was still coming hard.
“He got the two mountain shrines,” Mipha assured the old man. “But he’s struggling with the shrine in the ruins. Must he really go through that?"
“He’ll need it,” the old man said firmly, and Urbosa stormed in front of him and started arguing, low and cool.
Link tuned it out, trying to force his racing heart and crawling skin to settle again. The hand not twisting his ear went to his mouth again, his jaw clenching around his gloved knuckles to force himself to calm as the tension rose. Urbosa was trying to convince the old man to give up the paraglider without the last treasure, he registered dimly.
“If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle,” he heard the old man say calmly, and Urbosa swore loud enough to make a couple birds fly away in a flutter.
Link turned his face into the wall, still curled up, and let that play over again in his head.
If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle.
If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle.
If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle.
Link needed to get into that castle.
Link spent most of the next day alone, exploring the plateau quietly.
Picking up a rock on a tall boulder revealed a little leaf creature that introduced itself as a Korok, and gave him a little seed that he stored in his Sheikah Slate. By the end of the day he’d found three more, and he was smiling a little, almost having fun looking for them. He found another old sword on in one of the ruins. He even found some arrows, a chest of fire arrows and one of ice and a few bundles that he snuck out of bokoblin camps while they were preoccupied.
He roasted some mushrooms for a noontime meal and then shot down another boar, too, cleaning and butchering it with just a little more finesse than last time. Storing it was easy, and Mipha had assured him it would stay good. Link hoped she was right; it would be nice to have it on hand.
He jumped into the lake – encountering another Korok when he did – and then scrubbed himself roughly off, swam to shore, and pulled himself out.
Then he grabbed his Sheikah Slate, warped back to the Owa Daim shrine, and dropped carefully from ledge to ledge back down to where he could run across the rough tree bridge and to the cabin.
The others were still there. He relaxed a little, relieved, and waved. Daruk waved back.
“Everything go well, little brother?” Daruk asked, worry so well disguised that Link almost missed it. Link nodded and held out his new stock of arrows for Daruk to see. Daruk chuckled. “Pretty good! Get some food for yourself too?”
Link nodded again, and didn’t startle when Urbosa came up beside him, looking over his shoulder.
“Not bad for a day’s work,” she allowed, and then, surprising no one, “Will you be ready to tackle the shrine tomorrow?”
Link bit his cheek, assessed himself the best his could, and then shook his head decisively. He felt more stable than he had the day before, the rhythmic routine of the day’s work helping to steady him, but underneath that he still felt wobbly and nervous. He knew that he would freeze up again if he went too close to the ruins.
I’m going to hunt monsters tomorrow, he said instead, meeting her eyes evenly. I need the practice.
Urbosa’s lips thinned, but she didn’t argue. Instead she nodded. “Take one of us with you. You’re not yourself.”
Link didn’t miss that if he had been himself, it would have been fine. Was he good at hunting monsters, before? Was he skilled with the sword that felt so familiar in his hand?
He hesitated, and then checked quickly, I did use a sword, didn’t I?
It was a moment before Urbosa answered, and he glanced at her.
“Yes,” she said at last, voice soft. “You did. You had a great array of training, but you preferred your sword.”
Link reached up a little towards his sheath, almost able to feel the weight of a different sword entirely – but then the memory was gone, and he just nodded, looking away again.
He made a meal for himself. He went to sleep in the old man’s cabin. He woke up.
“I’m coming with you to keep your foolish self from dying,” Revali told Link curtly, and refused to take no for an answer. Link almost laughed, surprised, but just nodded, heading off to skirt around the lynel and make his way to the forest; he’d seen two bokoblin camps there previously, and he wanted to try and clear them out.
He thought he could do it, today. If he tried hard enough.
With the first one, he was careful; he crept into one of the trees nearby, took careful aim, and shot his precious ice arrows at each of the four attendant bokoblins, encasing them in a shell that would take precious minutes to break. Then he took his sword, marched in, and shattered them.
The bow felt nearly as familiar as the sword did, but Revali still corrected his grip and his sightline a little, making sure he aimed true, and stood back to watch, narrow-eyed, when Link finally went in.
When Link returned, shoulder aching where one boko club had caught it, Revali gave him a curt nod. “Is that enough to sate your apparent bloodlust for the day?” he asked dryly.
Heart racing with adrenaline, Link shook his head and held out the stock of arrows he’d managed to gather from the camp. Between that and the fangs and horns, he didn’t regret his raid at all, and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Revali sighed.
“Goddess save us all,” he muttered, and then followed Link as he picked his way over to the second monster camp.
This one was better watched and a little more difficult; carefully aimed arrows took out each of the standing sentries one by one, leaving them to collapse where they stood, gurgles nearly inaudible to anyone standing too far away.
Halfway through the raid, Link’s rusty sword finally gave out, and he had to duck, roll, and grab a weapon at random from his slate, swinging the heavy hammer at the monsters before they could land more than a couple more blows.
It was only after the dust settled that Link became aware of Revali’s loud swearing. He turned, panting and confused, and Revali was storming towards him, beak clicking furiously, and obviously checking Link for injuries, from the way he snarled at Link’s hurt shoulder. The green patch covering his shoulder feathers flexed and flashed.
“Of all the reckless, pointless, hot-headed and moronic-” the Rito was growling, pacing around Link in tight circles before stomping to a halt in front of him. “Why on Earth didn’t you snipe the rest with all those arrows you were so keen on?”
Link almost took a step back, confused. I need to practice? he suggested uncertainly. Revali stared at him, and Link did take a step back this time, unsure. I’m supposed to fight, aren’t I?
That was what all of this seemed to be leading up to. That was what felt right.
That was what everyone seemed to expect of him.
For a long, tense moment, Revali stared at him, then scoffed and turned away. “Well, you certainly seem eager enough,” he bit out.
The conversation was apparently ended, since Revali had oriented himself to keep from seeing Link’s reply. Link scowled at his back, then turned and walked away, scanning the trees for any remaining patrols and listening to the birds and squirrels rustle in the trees.
He slid into a dip in the forest and sullenly knelt down, picking some of the mushrooms that were growing around the edges. Each went into his slate for later, giving him a good stock of them, and slowly the tension eased out of his shoulders even as his fingers started to tremble.
Revali was maybe right. It would have been safer to snipe the last bokoblins rather than going in just for practice, and it wouldn’t do to get into bad habits. But Urbosa had said he used a sword-
Something rumbled. Link whipped around. His heart skipped a beat.
A towering creature of stone pulled itself from the ground with a rattle like a landslide, shook the dust off itself. It had no eyes, but it had two massive arms like clubs, heavy and intimidating.
Time seemed to slow down as Link’s heartbeat sped up. The stone creature dragged itself around to face him, and raised one arm. In response, Link threw himself to the side, reached for a boko spear he hadn’t yet put away, and threw it at the creature. It shattered against its body without any apparent effect, and it didn’t miss a beat as it threw its arm at him.
Link rolled away, and it just barely missed him, sending flecks of gravel flying, cutting into his face and arms.
He could almost hear the exact moment Revali turned and noticed what was happening from the sheer volume of the Rito’s shout. “GODDESS-FUCKING PRIDE OF A BOKOBLIN MOTHER-”
Blood roaring in his ears, Link kicked himself upright and grabbed for his bow, shooting at the stone beast again. Like the spear, the arrow shattered ineffectually against the rock face.
Another arm came flying towards Link. Time slowed, and Link twisted away, heart racing so hard his chest ached.
“The ore node!” he heard Revali screaming, harsh with panic Link hadn’t yet heard from him. “You need to hit the damn ore node, Link!”
What ore node? Link wanted to scream back, but he didn’t have time to find Revali and a line of sight and-
When he turned back, the rock beast was slumped on the ground, and Link saw it: a black, jagged protrusion on its back, always on the side facing away from Link.
Instantly, Link turned, scampered away, and, as the beast pulled a new arm from the ground and slumped down for a second, he climbed a tree as quickly as he could, thankful for the thick gloves that protected his hands.
Then, safely among the branches, he took careful aim at the black ore chunk, and fired. The arrow struck true, and the creature, arm freshly retrieved, slumped back down and did not get up for several seconds.
Link allowed himself a feral grin, fired again, and wasted no time in scampering back down and beelining straight towards the monster. He managed to clamber up onto it just as it stood up again, great and swaying, and Link grinned, eyes glittering and wild.
Then grabbed the hammer off his back, and slammed it down onto the ore. Then he did it again. The rock monster turned, great and swaying, and Link held on grimly until it steadied, and then struck again with a shout.
Revali was screeching, harsh, grating birdlike screams of outrage and indignation.
On the next blow, the monster broke apart, and Link tumbled to the ground, panting and laughing to himself, scraped up from the rocks despite his clothing and already shaking from the rush.
The next thing he knew, Revali was swooping down next to him, eyes wide with panic and anger, and Link turned over and grinned up at him, chest shaking with uncontrollable giggles.
“Oh, you think this is funny you, you-” the Rito hissed out, and then apparently became lost for words, gesticulating meaninglessly. Link tipped his head back and laughed harder, feeling an ache set into his muscles the longer he laid there, and finally, Revali gave a put-upon sigh. “Oh, laugh it up, you insolent fool. Goddess above, I let you out of my sight for two seconds…”
Link grinned for a while longer, and then eventually, finally, rolled over and pushed himself to his knees, then started to gather up the shattered ore chunks that made up the stone creature’s remains- chunks of amber, ruby, opal…
He didn’t ask why Revali didn’t step in, and Revali didn’t explain.
Once he was done with that, stumbling to his feet, Revali jerked his head in the direction of the cabin, and Link obediently ambled after him, tucking his Sheikah Slate back at his side, buzzing with pleasure.
By the time they were past the lynel, though, the high was starting to wear off, and Link’s limbs were getting heavier with each step. He trudged onward towards the cabin, ignoring Revali’s grumbles, and smiled a little as Mipha got up from beside the fire and hurried towards them. Daruk waved. Link nodded back vaguely and stifled a yawn.
His hands were shaking, and he didn’t think he had much longer before his knees gave out. He was thankful for the Sheikah Slate that stored his items; it meant he didn’t have to carry their weight.
“What happened?” Mipha was asking anxiously, hovering beside Link and gaze shifting worriedly between him and Revali. “He’s all scratched up, is that from the bokoblin?”
Revali tossed his head, scoffing loudly.
“As if,” he bit out, glowering at Mipha, who set her jaw and glowered right back. Revali softened a little, reluctantly. “No- I’m afraid I forgot about the talus in that forest, and lost sight of Link for just a minute. He ran right into it.”
Mipha gasped, hands flying up to her mouth, and spun towards Link. “Goodness, Link, are you-”
Link opened his Sheikah Slate, let an opal drop into his hand, and offered it to her with a small, satisfied smile. Her eyes went wide, staring from him to the opal and back to him.
Then she smiled, gestured it gently back towards him, and asked, “I take it you were able to handle it, then?”
Link put the opal away and nodded, then stifled another yawn and sat down hard, curling up against the log. He wondered vaguely where the old man was.
“He appeared to injure his shoulder, but it wasn’t severe,” Revali continued, audibly ruffled. “It shouldn’t hold him up at all. All things considered, he dealt with it quite handily.”
“Hey, little brother,” Daruk said suddenly, voice surprisingly soft and only a foot from Link’s face. Link’s ear twitched, and he reluctantly pried his eyes open to send a questioning look up at Daruk. He was starting to shiver with cold, but Daruk just gave him a small grin. “Sounds like you did a great job out there. Revali says the forest’s all clear.”
Link gave him a small, dazed grin in return, nodding vaguely. He hadn’t looked closely, but that had seemed to be the case, and he’d definitely gotten both of the camps. And the talus.
Daruk chuckled softly. “Can you sit up for me, little bro? Just need you to do one or two things for me before you crash.”
Link grunted, but sat up obediently, rubbing at his face. What?
“Take out your Sheikah Slate and open it up,” Daruk coached, and Link obeyed. “Now pick out something easy to eat, maybe something you can just roast and eat, and a stamina elixir.”
Link obeyed, sticking a couple of mushrooms on a spare boko spear and putting them by the fire, then flopped back. Then, when Daruk cleared his throat meaningfully, Link sighed, sat back up, and took out a stamina elixir.
“Great,” Daruk said warmly. “Drink up, little bro, it’ll keep you from being so sore in the morning.”
Link sighed, but that sounded like a good thing, so he chugged it back anyway, put the bottle away, and gave Daruk a faintly sullen look that made the Goron laugh.
“You gotta give your little Hylian belly some fuel before you fall asleep after all that,” Daruk reminded him, eyes glittering. “Trust me, you’ll thank me for this tomorrow. Think you can clean yourself up in the pond while you wait?”
Link sighed again, then got up and stumbled over to the pond, pulling off his gloves and shakily scrubbing at the scratches on his face and ankles.
Ten minutes later, Mipha called him back, and he stumbled over. He sat down, barely able to keep his eyes open, and ate the mushrooms without tasting them. Someone murmured to him, low and firm – he thought maybe Urbosa – and he followed them blindly into the cabin, fell onto the bed, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
He thought he liked his friends. He’d chosen well, before.