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“Go go go!” Wind gasps, snickering, as the shop door slips shut behind them.
“Did you get it?” Four faux-whispers back, high on success and pleasantly floaty from the bottle he and Wind spent the afternoon passing back and forth. His feet catch on nothing and he trips into Wind’s side, snickering at his own clumsiness. Wind bursts into giggles as well, trying to steady Four only to go off balance himself. They stagger sideways several steps before lurching to a halt, still upright. Four suppresses his snickers, straightening, only to catch Wind’s eye and burst into hilarity all over again. “C’mon, did you get it?” Four’s eyes roam over Wind’s person, but he can’t spot anything out of place.
Wind pats the spoils bag at his hip. “Yeah, I got mine, did you?”
“Yeah.” A slight weight rests in the bottom of Four’s hood. “Payment?”
“Slipped right into her pocket! She didn’t even notice!”
“I put mine into the cashbox.”
The shop door opens behind them. Four strangles an excited shriek. It turns into a high pitched noise as it squeaks its way out of his throat. He bolts, giggling anew at the funny sound. Wind woops and darts after him. It’s harder than it should be to dodge shoppers in the crowded streets of Castle Town Market, high on a haze of alcohol and silliness and a prank going very, very right. His head feels floaty, his heart light, mischievous mood helped along by being able to let loose like he hasn’t in far too long. The Castle Town of this era meanders along all peaceful, safe, and bustling with activity. They have the day free to do as they please, Wind catching Four’s eye that morning as their group split up and pulling the top of a stoppered bottle out of his spoils bag just far enough for Four to see it, eyebrows raised and bright grin on his face quickly smoothed to an innocent expression before anyone else could catch sight.
Aimless meandering as they took turns down small swigs turned to faux-subtle rating of the pickpocketable-ness of passers-by, turned to probable ease of pickpocketing their own companions, turned to bets made when Four spotted something in a shop window and got an unholy idea.
Four gasps as he almost trips over a stray mutt. Wind dodges a man who makes a bitten-off sound of affront. They meet again and Wind grabs Four’s hand, tugging him along, urging him faster but only succeeding in making Four trip over his own feet as Wind tugs him off already-unsteady balance. He’s too lighthearted to mind, high on success and silliness. They trip as they right themselves, both of them giggling madly, and almost careen into another shopper. Wind snorts, snickering, tugging Four back into a reckless dash through the crowd just because.
“Ho, there!” The hand that reaches out for Four holds no weapon. Four wheels back, stumbling to a halt, reaction time slowed by alcohol and the part of his brain that automatically notes uniform, sheathed sword, friendly guard. Wind dodges, feet still nimble, only stopping because he hasn’t let go of Four’s wrist. He wheels around, tugged off balance by his unwillingness to let go, staggering upright again before he hits either Four or the guard.
A firm but gentle hand lands on Four’s shoulder. Four blinks at it dumbly. The guard reaches for Wind as well and Wind ducks him again. Four’s arm rolls, heavy, as Wind dances back out of reach, still holding onto Four’s wrist like a tether. The guard doesn’t try a third time.
“You boys shouldn’t be running like that in a crowded market, you might hit someone. Where are your guardians?”
Guardian? Funny. This guard is funny. Four giggles. He meets Wind’s eyes, and Wind snickers too. Wind draws himself up, puffing out his chest to declare, “I don’t need a guardian, I’m a pirate!”
Four nods vigorous agreement. “He is a pirate.”
“A pirate, huh? Little old for games of pretend, aren’t you?” The guard’s raised eyebrow disappears under the edge of his helmet.
Wind’s face twists with affront. It tickles at Four’s humor. Everything seems silly right now. He giggles. Wind pokes him in the side, mouth and eyebrows all twisted up like he’s mocking Legend at his most grumpy. “Be serious! There’s a guard. No laughing!” The act breaks, eyebrows popping straight back up into a happy curve. Wind snickers at his own words. Four tries to hide his laughter behind a hand.
The guard watches this production with both eyebrows now raised. “How much sugar have you two had?”
Sugar? What a funny joke. This guard is funny. Has he had that thought already? If so, it’s only because it’s true. Four tips his head back, angling for a better look at the guard’s face, shaded by a well-worn helmet. The world sways a little with the motion, and Four takes an unsteady step back. The guard’s hand tightens on his shoulder, steadying him easily. He has the same kind of heft to him as Twilight, all sturdy bulk in the way of someone who spent their childhood helping to move hay bales and wrangle animals. “You’re funny,” Four tells him. “I haven’t had sugar, I’ve been drinking.” He holds a pointed finger up for emphasis, taking care to enunciate his words.
“Okay.” The guard sighs, and the resemblance to Twilight grows stronger as he rubs at his forehead the same way Twilight does when Wild’s making a point to push his buttons. “Let’s go with something simpler. What are your names?”
Wait wait wait. Something there doesn’t seem right. Like there’s something Four ought to remember.
Wind grabs Four’s arm in both his own, wrapping around it like Red when he wants something and isn’t afraid to resort to emotional manipulation to get it. “Don’t tell him, Four!”
“Four?” the guard mutters, but Four isn’t paying attention to that. He snaps his fingers in realisation.
“Good thinking, Wind!”
The guard groans. He pats Four’s shoulder. “Okay. Wind and Four. Interesting names.”
Wind puffs out his chest. “It’s ‘cuz I'm the Hero of the Winds!”
“Hero.” The guard’s tone still holds that longsuffering edge.
“Yeah! I’m the hero of Hyrule!”
“Thought you were a pirate.”
“I’m that too!”
“He can be both,” Four defends.
“Right.” The guard's voice goes deadpan. “Anything else you want to admit to?”
Wind leans heavily onto the shoulder opposite the guard’s hand. Four’s back tries to fold under the weight. He struggles to hide how hard it is to remain upright. “Shhhhh,” Wind hisses loudly, right in Four’s ear. “Four. Don’t tell him!”
“Tell me what?”
“We’re committing crimes!” Wind flings himself away, throwing his hands out with fingers splayed.
“Crimes?”
“Yeah! Crimes against Legend’s hat!” Oh! Right! That’s what they were doing! Four had forgotten. He breaks out in chortles at the reminder. Legend’s going to have kittens. Kittens. That’s a funny joke. Four needs to tell Wind. Where did Wind go? Oh. There. But he isn’t looking at Four, he’s looking at something else.
Four pokes him in the small of his back. “Wind!”
Wind points at a passing lady, a harried woman distracted by her young children and pretending not to be interested in a vendor’s pastry display.
“Ten rupees.”
Way too easy to pickpocket. “No bet.”
The weight on Four’s shoulder tightens. Right! The guard! Four had forgotten he was there. The guard sighs. He tips his head with the air of someone trying very hard to be patient with someone very young, catching Four’s eye. “Who are you in town with? Parent? Sibling?”
“I’m sixteen,” Four declares, insulted. “I’m an adult.” He has a mastery and his own shop! He can take apprentices! He pays taxes!
“Sixteen. Right.”
“He’s older’n me!” Wind defends, nodding with vigor. He leans hard on Four, his forearm and elbow digging into Four’s shoulder, waving his other hand in demonstration. He’s not exactly steady. Four wobbles. The guard catches both of them this time.
“I got it, I got it,” Four grumbles.
“And I suppose you’re a pirate-hero too?”
Something about the tone penetrates Four’s foggy brain. He squints. The guard’s expression slides in and out of focus, but he’s pretty sure that’s doubt. “You don’t believe us.”
The guard snorts. “What gave you that impression, kid?” A brisk shake of the head as Four tries to get his mind to work well enough to come up with a rejoinder. The soft haze alcohol cast over his perception of the world begins to soften, but not so quickly that he can quite figure out the right things to say.
“C’mon. Where did you leave your guardians?” The guard looks over both their shoulders, scanning the street for something. Four turns to follow his gaze, rotating in an unsteady circle, but all he can see are market stalls and the shoppers giving their small group a wide berth.
Wind follows him around with a giggle, pulled along as Four’s shoulder moves rather than pick up his own weight. “What’re you looking for?”
“Maybe they did let you wander off alone,” the guard mutters. “Where were you meeting up with your group?”
Finally, a question that makes sense. ...Wait. Why was this person asking them questions? “Why are you asking us questions?”
“I’m a guard, kid. It’s my job.”
“Not a kid,” Four reminds him, indignant.
“Right. Mister pirate hero.”
“No, he’s the pirate.” Four jerks a thumb at the limpet still hanging off his shoulder.
The guard scrubs at his face, groaning. “Look, will you just answer?”
Answering questions. Answering questions for a guard. There’s something about that, something that niggles at Four’s memory. Weren’t they dodging questions earlier? Four turns to Wind. “Do we tell him?”
“No!” Wind yelps, all gleeful mischief.
Wait. Wait a second. “What was the question?” He can’t remember any more.
Wind’s face screws up in concentration. “Uh. where. Where’re we meeting the rest?”
“Oh. Right.” Four thinks for a moment. His brain chugs along with all the speed of a lazy old draft horse, thoughts like molasses. “Where are we meeting them?” That seems like an important thing to remember. Ugh. A mild throbbing starts making itself known in his temples, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Four squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing at them. His mouth feels sticky and dry.
“Uh. The inn?” Wind doesn’t sound completely sure of himself. Four cracks his eyes open to check whether Wind’s expression matches his tone and immediately wishes he’d left them shut. Did the light smattering of clouds disappear while he wasn’t looking?
Sunlight catches on the guard’s helmet as he nods, reflecting right into Four’s eyes. Four winces. “The inn. Okay. Come on now, let’s go.” He nudges at Four.
Four squints at the hand on his shoulder, bewildered at the sudden shoving. “Go…?”
The guard’s chest heaves with the force of his sigh. He tips his head back, all the air of a man holding on to patience by the very tips of his fingers. He hooks an arm around Wind too and rotates their entire group in a circle until Wind and Four are facing back the way they came. Wind laughs at the new game, still at that delightful stage of tipsy where he finds everything hilarious, but Four feels too spinny to enjoy it. The guard steps to the side, lifting his hands slowly like someone testing the balance of an item propped precariously against a wall. Four blinks dumbly at the newly revealed road in front of him. When Four and Wind remain more or less upright, the guard shifts around toward Four’s back. Discomfort niggles at Four’s brain. He tries to turn to follow, keeping the guard in his line of sight. “No, don’t - look, kid, we’re going that way.” The guard gestures down the road. “Work with me here.”
Wind pushes himself up off Four’s shoulder. Four sways. The guard hovers a hand over his back and Four’s shoulders itch.
“This way? Whoops!” Wind starts to march forward, trips over nothing, and veers around Four to grab hold of the guard instead, his face all beaming innocence. Four gives him the stink eye. He knows that trick. Little thief.
The guard doesn’t give it any mind. He starts forward, his hand landing high on Four’s back between his shoulder blades. Four twitches away from it. The guard moves forward again and just like that they’re all walking down the street. Four can feel the hand hovering but it doesn’t actually touch again.
“Where are we gooooing?” Wind sing-songs.
“We’re meeting up with your group so I can have a word with your guardians.” The guard mutters something else about letting kids run loose with too much sugar in their systems. Four can feel the guard’s eyes on him even as he responds to Wind. He resolutely ignores it just like he ignores the hovering hand. The pounding in his temples grows worse by the minute. He squints in the too-bright sun, thinks of pulling his hood up to block out the brightness until his fiddling with the edges of it makes the ill-gotten goods resting in the tip bounce against his back. If he pulls the hood up the guard might notice. He lets his hands fall, receding into a discomforted haze instead. He thinks he hears the guard say something about a sugar crash.
“Walking is booooring,” Wind complains. “I hate it. We walk everywhere. Boats are so much better.”
“Go sailing often, do you? In our landlocked Hyrule?”
“Yeah! I’m a pirate!”
“So you’ve said. Where are you from, mister pirate?”
There’s a good smell coming from a nearby stall. Four’s stomach growls. He’s suddenly ravenous. “I want some of Wild’s cooking,” he declares, veering towards it, only for that accursed hand to land on his shoulder again. “Why do you keep touching me?” he complains.
“Your friend’s - Wild, was it? Wild’s cooking is this way. I’m just helping you out.”
“I can walk on my own.” The pleasant haze of alcohol has well and truly receded by now, leaving only his headache and the niggling sensation that there’s something about this situation he doesn’t like. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but the same as when Wild uses swords to pry at rocks. He thinks he’s going to be very annoyed when he figures out what it is. “How would you know where Wild’s cooking is?”
“Wild is this way, so their cooking should be too, shouldn’t it?”
“Wars!” Wind shouts.
Four blinks, attempting to focus past the blurriness and the pounding. “Where?”
“...Wars?” mutters the guard.
There he is, ahead of them, chatting amicably with a vendor. His head comes up and around at Wind’s shout. The relaxed sway of his posture snaps into straight-backed precision when he spots them.
“Uh oh.” The words fall out of Four’s mouth without his permission. Wind groans agreement.
Even with the sun too bright for picking out details, Four can see the way Warriors reads the situation in the shifting of his posture as he marches down the road towards them. Still straight backed, but the alertness changes from ‘just spotted a moblin’ to ‘respectable and responsible.’
By the time he gets to them, Four can practically smell the charm oozing off of him. “There you two are!” The words come out with a believable note of concern. “Thank you for finding them, sir.”
“Are you their guardian?” Cautious relief coats the guard’s voice. Something in Warriors’ expression changes at the tone, but Four is a little too bleary to figure out what. Warriors’ eyes crawl over him, a once over that has the benefit of familiarity and sees far more than the guard did. The pit in Four’s stomach drops further.
“They’re in town with me, yes.”
“I found them running through the streets. We’re a little too crowded around here for that to be safe, for them or for anyone else.”
Warriors winces. It’s calculated, a show, as is the exasperated look he gives them after. Wind sticks his tongue out. Four wonders how many of the guard's belongings are now in his pockets. The silliness still hanging over Wind has long fled for Four, and he’s starting to feel embarrassed. Not at the drinking or Warriors knowing about it - Farore knows they’ve seen him deep into his cups more than once - but by the fact that they managed to get themselves caught. By a Castle Town guard.
“My apologies. They’re just excited to see a new place. It’s our first time in town.”
Wind lets go of the guard to latch onto Warriors instead, going off about the vendors and the shops and just generally playing up the youth card. Four squints. He should probably do the same, play along to get them both away from the guard, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. His temples throb. Insult sits sour on his tongue.
Warriors holds out his arm, one edge of that showy scarf held in his hand. The shadowed space it forms seems incredibly inviting. Four’s pride battles briefly with his headache before he gives in. He takes the two steps to Warriors, leaning against his side with a sigh. Warriors lets his arm fall across Four’s shoulders, the leading edge of the scarf still tucked around it and offering blessed reprieve from the sun. Four risks a glance back out, Wind’s chatter still going strong.
The guard’s expression has gone soft, reassured. Four scowls, decides he doesn’t care.
“Perhaps try to keep better track of them while you’re here.”
“Of course. There won’t be any more wandering off alone, I assure you.” The words hold a pointed edge. Wind snorts, but the guard seems satisfied. He nods once, blasted helmet catching the sunlight again.
“And I’ll take my things back, young man.” This directed at Wind, who grins at the man, entirely unrepentant as he retrieves a wallet from his spoils bag.
“Pirate!” he reminds, sing-song, as he hands it over.
The guard weighs it in his hand, taking a brief glance inside. “I’m beginning to believe you.” He shakes his head, gives them one last look, and heads back the way he came.
A moment of suspicious silence comes from above Four’s head. The arm resting over his shoulders starts to tremble. Four looks up and finds Warriors looking down, eyes dancing with silent mirth, shoulders shaking with poorly contained laughter. Four groans, drops his head. “Not one word,” he threatens without much hope of actually being listened to.
“Way to spoil our fun, Wars,” Wind moans.
“Fun? From where I’m standing I did you a favor, short stuff.” Four’s comfortable shade collapses over his head as Warriors drops the scarf in order to scuffle with Wind, all the jostling and bitten off yelps and curse words making Four pretty sure Wind is on the receiving end of a noogie and perfectly happy to fight back. He scrambles to free himself from the scarf, resurfaces to find Warriors looking at him with a gleam in his eye and obvious calculation on his face.
“Just try it!” Four hisses, taking a generous step back. Warriors’ gaze goes to the top of his head. Four hurries to smooth his hair, all mussed from the scarf.
Warriors lets go of Wind with one last thorough scuff over his head. Wind, for all the foul words falling from his mouth, straightens with a beaming smile still plastered across his face.
“So,” Warriors claps a hand down on Four’s shoulder, firm, zero sympathy in his smile when Four winces, the show for the guard well and truly over. “What were you two really up to?”
The set of Wind’s mouth and shoulders go cagey, his eyes glittering with calculation. Warriors sees it too. “Tell me or I’ll have Twilight pry it out of you,” he threatens, still with that same pleasant smile. Four feels his face go pale. He exchanges a speaking look with Wind.
Do they tell him? On the one hand, it’s fun to plan a secret prank. On the other hand, Warriors will probably go along with it. He did get them out of the situation without all the rest seeing their humiliation.
Excitement and mischief reblooms on Wind’s face as he comes to the same conclusion. Four pulls his hood over his shoulder, lifting the tip until a small stoppered jar of fabric dye rolls out into his hand. Wind unearths his own prize, a hat that’s a near perfect match for Legend’s, save the rather boring off-white color. Wind looks Warriors straight in the eye and proudly announces, “We’re gonna dye it pink to match Legend’s hair and swap it out while he’s not looking.”
A gleam enters Warriors’ eye. “I won’t tell anyone that I had to save you from a Castle Town guard… if I get included in these plans.”
Wind cackles. Not even the pulsing in his temples and the painful brightness of the street can dampen Four’s answering grin.