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The room Link was currently stuck in was extravagant, to say the least. The walls were bright soft pink, with large mirrors, soft carpets, and huge windows to let the light in. Link hoped that the gold details on everything were fake and that they didn't put that much precious metal into a single room but he honestly didn't expect much restraint from any of the people here anymore.
It was a dressing room. Queen Zelda’s dressing room to be more specific. Link would like to say he has never been so uncomfortable in his life, being forced into the tightest clothes ever in a room that he wasn't allowed to touch anything in lest he broke it was truly a unique torture, but he knew that very soon he was going to be forced somewhere far worse.
“Stop looking so depressed,” Impa said, carefully adjusting Link’s scarf. “It's bad for our optics.”
It was a nice scarf all things considered. A bright royal blue, with blood orange accents. It was being carefully positioned. One end in the front on his left side, the other behind him pinned in such a way it covered most of his back.
Link forces a smile on his face.
Impa glares at him, and Link instantly drops the smile.
“You looked like someone was holding you at sword point,” Impa said, making final adjustments to his waistcoat and over the tunic.
Link fought the urge to shrug. Heroes about to be trusted into high society did not shrug. Instead, he made a vague waving motion with his hand.
Impa glared up for a moment before sighing. She placed her hand carefully on Link's shoulder, attentive so her hand doesn't ruin his outfit.
“I get it, I really do.” Impa’s voice was soft and low. “I felt the same when I was first presented as Zelda’s personal attendant and guard.”
Impa retracted her hand, and Link was torn between missing the comfort and being glad she took her hand off him. She crossed her arms and looked out a window on her left.
“Lucky for me I'm Sheikah, and we’re not exactly expected to speak to most nobles.” A wry smile crossed her face. “The stereotype that all Sheikah are so excessively hard-working that none of us have time for small talk is so useful when around stuffy nobles.”
Impa glances back at Link. “Look, the last Impa nearly had a conniption when the ceremony named me as Impa for the Queen. I’m not exactly known for my good manners and patience.” She snorts. “Trust me. I wouldn't be able to understand the political manners, and appearances game if someone forced me to take a class on it- and Zelda did.”
Link snorts back. “I don’t, uh, think I could forget Queen Zelda’s lessons if I, er, tired.” Link responded with an awkward laugh, thankful that he was comfortable enough with Impa to actually be able to talk to her.
The Queen always had a very subtle anxiousness to her when in private, and it always freaked him out way more than he was already was by being in public in the first place. Which would Internally make her more freaked out. For some reason, they could always read each other no matter how hard they both tried to hide their anxiousness. It was a horrible cycle they got sucked into.
Impa offers him a small smile.
“You won't have to talk.” She says gently, but firmly. “You know how the old nobility is about the Hero of Time. They’ll probably coo over Proxy when she speaks for you, and you'll be their cute little oddity for the month.”
Link breaks into a smile. They wouldn't be saying that if they actually had met the kid. The little terror was nothing like any of them think. Hero of Time or not, he was an absolute hellion.
Impa smiles back. “After enough time has passed, I’ll drag you away under the guise of battle planning or something.” She dismissively waves her hand. “S’not like they’ll question me.”
Link half-smiles at Impa and nods, not really believing her, but not wanting to disagree with her either.
He was going to die.
Eaten alive by stuffy assholes who are going to sneer at him when he uses the wrong fork and knife for the finished position on his plate.
They are going to chew him up and spit him out and he's going to ruin everything Queen Zelda and Impa have worked so hard for.
Hylia was finally going to realize her mistake and pick some other kid who wasn’t a half-mute fuck up, and he can go back to trying to afford his sister’s dream cucco coup.
Impa hummed. “Are you sure you can do your makeup by yourself?” She said, eyeing his outfit carefully.
Link bit down a laugh and nodded.
Makeup was one of the few things he could do well.
What a man he is.
Impa rolls her eyes at him. “I don't know why you're so picky about your hair and face but it's not my place to judge.” Impa offers him a quick smile. “See you at the ball.” Then with a swirl of shadows, she was gone.
Link wanted to fall on the floor and sob.
Link wanted to throw up all his guts and not eat for a week.
Link wanted to jump out of the perfectly sculpted window.
Link wanted to take off all the obscene amount of layers and disappear into the city where no one knew his name, and no one would ever find him.
Link sat down at the vanity table.
If someone told him that putting on makeup would not just be expected for his position but required, he would have laughed in their face.
To think something people used to bully him over was now important to his social standing. He had only learned so he could do Linkle’s makeup for her- not that anyone cared when they made him miserable.
Link sighs.
He really has a long day ahead of him, no use exhausting himself before the main event even begins.
He carefully eyes the products Impa had bought for him. He had dry sensitive skin and was unfortunately incredibly susceptible to stress acne.
He sincerely hated acne like nothing else.
He would rather get stabbed than have his face marred with those disgusting things.
He lifts one of the products and checks it over.
Sure, it said ‘Made for Dry Sensitive Skin’, but there was no way on Din’s land he was blindly trusting some label with his face's health.
Link frowns, double-checking the ingredients list.
Yes, these will do.
Sure, he was still going to check the ingredients of all of the products, but a quick skim was probably the only necessary thing.
He takes out the moisturizer, making a point to ignore the price on the bottle, deftly warming it between the palms of his hands. Slowly he thoroughly massages it into his skin with upward and outward circular motions.
He leans back, waiting for moisturizer to soak in, taking the time to examine the dressing table in detail.
The vanity table was curved with a three-piece mirror, allowing anyone who sat there to see themself from three angles while getting ready.
Probably to make sure they didn't miss a spot; to make sure there were no mistakes.
The designer clearly took the term “vanity table” too literally, and Link desperately wanted one.
Link shot a look up at his reflection, analyzing his face with a fine-tooth comb, looking at every fault that needed to be fixed and covered.
Impa was right, he looks like shit.
His eyes were half-lidded, the bags under them large and prominent, and his face was resting in a resigned expression that wasn't quite frowning but might as well have been. Not to even mention how fucked up his face normally looked without makeup.
Link smiles at his reflection.
He looks ridiculous.
Link grabbed the primer and considered it.
He knows the party will only last from afternoon to midnight, but he has no clue when Impa will come get him.
He warms up the primer in his hands, before patting it onto his face.
Better safe than sorry.
He was not going to embarrass Queen Zelda, and cause an incident because he decided he didn't want to do one extra step.
Was he going to embarrass Queen Zelda anyways? Probably, but it was not going to be something that was easily avoided.
He grabs the liquid foundation, pleased to find that it matched his skin perfectly.
He grabs the cup with all his new makeup brushes. He runs a hand over the soft brushes with a half-smile.
They were really nice.
High quality, soft, and probably cost more than he could ever afford.
Link carefully picked out the brush he wanted, applying a full coat to the flat parts of his face.
With less makeup on the brush, he carefully went over his T-zone.
His forehead and nose didn't need that much foundation, that would overdo it.
Just because he was wearing makeup, everyone there would be wearing makeup, and everyone knew everyone else was wearing makeup, didn't mean he can look like he's wearing a lot of makeup.
That would be in bad taste.
Especially when he wasn't born into high society, only granted access to it by his hero status.
Link quickly moved on to concealer, because under no circumstances was he going to let the nobility know he had acne scars.
Link hummed in delighted surprise.
The circles under his eyes were covered perfectly, and his acne scars were completely invisible.
He gave his reflection a more genuine smile.
He hadn't even needed to layer it over the scars, and it didn't look cakey beneath his eyes.
He smiles at the bottle of concealer in his hand.
This really was the good stuff, huh?
Link snorts.
He wished he had this stuff for Linkle’s homecoming.
His twin would have been the talk of the town.
He grabbed the bronzer. Lightly going over his hairline, sides of his nose, and just beneath the high points of his cheeks.
He always thought he looked better without a strong visible bronzer, especially on his cheeks. The only part he went back over with the bronzer was his hairline and under his eyebrow.
He repeated the process with the highlighter. Going over the arch of his brow bone, the high points of his cheeks, bridge of his nose, his cupid’s bow, and center of his chin. He applied the highlighter more liberally than he did the bronzer, careful to keep a natural-looking glow, but glowing nonetheless.
He opened the eye shadow, a nude pallet, exactly like he asked.
An ‘adventurous’ color palette was practically begging for trouble. He didn't care that every noble there used bright colors that stood out. If he was going to cultivate a look to present to the world, it would be one that was understated, and unnaturally natural.
He considered all the colors before settling on a reddish medium brown, applying it softly to the top of his eyes lid, and a little halfway down his lower lid.
Link smiles. They got him dark brown eyeliner.
When Link asked Impa to get him some he didn't expect Impa to actually find it.
Maybe he was being picky, but black eyeliner always looked too harsh on him.
The dark brown added a much-needed softness to his features.
Carefully, he lined his eyes, creating a large wing on his upper eye, and a much smaller one on his lower lid.
He was always a big fan of the double-winged look.
Link gasps in delight. They even got him brown mascara.
Impa wasn’t joking about getting him everything he needed huh?
Maybe he could convince her to get him some nice bath salts, oils, and candles too.
Or maybe he shouldn't be asking the Impa to use her money to fund his addiction to beauty products.
After applying the mascara, and curling his lashes he wiggles the mascara at the root of the lashes and works it to the tips, making a dark lash line on his lids.
He looks at the lip products before deciding not to use any.
Not only would that stand out too much, but it had also always looked weird on him.
He wanted a perfectly sculpted presentation that didn't look too fake.
Finally, he grabbed the setting spray, so his work would last.
Link smiled down at the desk covered in makeup. He really hoped they would let him keep it, and maybe buy him more when he ran out.
He loved makeup, and that was incredibly soothing.
His heart rate had finally calmed, and he no longer felt so uncomfortable that every movement was stilted.
He gazed at his reflection, and his reflection gazed back.
A proud smile crossed his face.
His face looked amazing.
His features were softened, but still sharp and masculine. He was clearly wearing makeup, but the look almost appeared naturally achievable in the right light.
Link sighed, a moment of glory.
Link stood up and walked over to the overly extravagant, full-sized, golden templated mirror.
He stared at his reflection, and all together? He looked fine.
No, better than fine.
He looked like he belonged in the elaborate outfit and the ornate scarf.
The outfit was a more showy version of his hero’s outfit. It was bright Hero’s green, with decorative armor, and more tight-fitting layers.
The outfit was designed to allow his scarf to take center stage.
Seeing how the scarf was hand-made by the Queen herself to emulate the scarf of First Hero, he understood why.
Link stands up to his full height, squaring his shoulders, taking the posture the Queen taught him to hold.
He looked good.
He looked natural.
He smiled at his reflection, a smile that fit the status and the look.
It looked good, it didn't look genuine, but that wasn't the point, was it?
The point was to look good, to speak flowerily, to stay in high esteem.
Sure, the outfit was not something he’d ever choose to wear on his own, but maybe it could.
Maybe the nobles would eat him alive, his fellow soldiers hate him, and the people distrust him.
Link, the effeminate kid from the poor part of the city with such severe anxiety he stopped talking in 3rd grade.
No one would accept him as their hero.
But maybe they’d accept Link, the man with a sharp clean look, a charming smile, and maybe, eventually, a way with words.
He liked keeping his looks in order.
He liked acting.
There was a man staring at him from the other side of the mirror.
A man with a smug smile, and sharpness to his eyes.
He could maintain this.
That is a person he could commit to being.
Fake it till you make it, right?
-
Link was going to fucking throw up.
Ok maybe that was an exaggeration, he wasn't even dry heaving.
Yet.
What he was having was an anxiety attack that was wreaking havoc on his stomach, chest, hands, and also his whole body.
But mostly his stomach.
Thank Hylia, he forgot to eat this morning.
Then he’d actually be puking.
It had been three months since he got his scarf, and stumbled through a night of interaction with the most insufferable nobles in the world. Link thought he had gotten good at faking with Proxi’s help, but this was a whole new level.
Link had to give a speech.
He had to stand up in front of all those faces, and sell them hope he didn't have.
Of course, the main problem is that Zelda is gone.
The sheer fact that the fucking Queen was missing, fucking missing, was enough to ruin his appetite and make his hands shake, but that couldn’t be fixed.
Since the Queen wasn’t there and someone had to rally the troops.
Someone needed to look into those people’s eyes and tell them something that will help them keep going, someone needed to say something to them.
Someone had to replace the Queen in these ceremonies and he was the Hero, so everyone expected him to do it.
It’s not like Link didn’t understand.
On the contrary, Link understood perfectly why he was being substituted for the Queen.
The Hero was the only one who was important enough when it came to banishing evil to take Zelda’s place in addresses to the public.
They were banishing evil, he was theoretically her equal, and the Hero, so it was his job.
That did not mean he had to be happy about it.
He really hated agreeing with the thing that made him sick to his stomach. It removed the option of even lying to himself.
Link stumbled down the path to a river that was close by where they had set up the camp.
It was just far enough from camp that Link could get some much-needed privacy with his nausea and anxiety, but not far enough that Sheik or Impa would start getting ideas about following him. As much as he liked Impa and tolerated Sheik if anyone saw him in this state he was going to do something drastic and he'd rather not have it come to that.
Plus the river had water for him to splash his face with, which made it instantly appealing.
Link moved with heavy steps to the river that was finally in view.
Whatever part of his anxiety that fucked up his motor control was easily the worst, but seeing the promise of cool relief of the water relaxed whatever turned off his ability to balance like a normal person.
Link damn near sprinted to the water, crouching—not kneeling he wasn’t going to risk ruining his pants before a speech—in front of the clear water and splashing his face.
He wasn’t wearing any makeup, except for some waterproof eyeliner he had grown very attached to, so getting his face wet didn’t matter.
Link leaned back on his calves.
Yeah okay, maybe Impa was right about him having a bit of a problem.
The fact that he was wearing eyeliner during battle was definitely not normal.
Actually? Who did she think she was calling him out for his weird-ass coping mechanisms when she was just as bad?
Seriously, the way she clung to her orders when she got stressed was easily more annoying than him wearing eyeliner.
Link leaned over to get a good look at his face.
He looked fine?
Maybe.
His eyes were a little puffy, but no one but Impa and Sheik would notice, and only Impa would say anything so it didn't matter.
Link picked up a part of his scarf and gently patted the moisture out his hair and face.
A crack of a twig and Link snapped his head to look behind him, quickly standing up to face whatever made the sound with his full body.
His hand twitches for his sword only to find it missing.
Which immediately begged the question of where the fuck his sword was.
“Hello, Captain.” One of the men, one of Hyrule’s soldiers, said to him not unkindly.
Link flicked his eyes between the three men that decided to follow him, three of the men that he was supposed to give a speech to in a few hours.
The man on the right has pursed his lips, clenched his jaw, and was squinting his eyes at Link.
The woman on the left had her nostrils flared, lowered eyebrows, and rested all her weight on her back leg, puffing her chest out.
The man in the middle looked friendly but his smile didn't reach his eye.
His left hand was clenched, and the hand he used to gesture was stiff.
Link’s chest went cold.
Putting on his best fake smile, Link quickly adjusted his body language, relaxing his shoulders, and tilting his head up at them.
These people wanted to hurt him.
It was obvious in the way they stood.
“Yes?” Link said, keeping the fear out of his voice. “Do you need something?”
Link pushed himself forward, crossing his arms.
Hands carefully tucked in his arms so their shaking couldn't give his rising panic away.
His heart was beating so hard it was painful, he could feel it slam in his chest.
“Yes, we do.” The woman responded. Voice low, smooth, and confident. “Me and some of the guys were thinking about how this whole war started because that Sorceress wants you.”
Oh, Goddess. This.
He hated this topic.
“While that is true,” The man on the left was probably going to attack him first. “From what we can glean, and first-hand knowledge from the sorceress Lana, the dark Sorceress is only a pawn in a greater scheme.” Keeping the man in his peripherals would be smart, directly looking at him would make the man more careful.
The woman took a step forward and Link turned his head to face her but kept his body facing straight forward.
“I think that's bullshit, and we both know it.” The woman responded coldly. She unsheathes her sword in one fluid motion.
Link widened his eyes in fake surprise, dropped his arms to look more open, and took three calculated steps back.
“What are you doing?!” Link asked, pointedly keeping his eyes only trained on the woman. “I'm telling the truth!”
If he could get his hands on the left’s man sword he could easily handle this.
All he had to do was wait.
“I don’t think you are, Captain.” The man in the center said sarcastically, drawing his sword. “I think if we were to hand you over, this whole little problem would disappear.”
Link felt his stomach lurch at that comment.
Goddess, wasn’t that the worst-case scenario?
“She is being directly influenced by malice!” Link pretended to protest, watching the left man unsheathe his sword.
That wasn't exactly common knowledge, but no one was exactly keeping it secret.
Telling some traitors wasn't too big of a risk.
Oh, this plan was so stupid.
“You're making excuses!” The woman screamed. “This is all your fault and you won't even take any responsibility!”
Link turned his body to completely face her, carefully keeping the man on the left in eyesight.
He was slowly walking closer to Link, likely trying to sneak up on the Hero.
“I’m telling the truth!” He was getting closer. “Is there any way I could prove this to you?!”
“No.” The man to his left said, raising his sword and swinging it down.
Link quickly shot out his left arm, letting the sword slam into his leather armor, quickly grabbing the hilt of the sword, and kicking the man in the neck.
The man went down like a stone and Link barely had enough time to block the woman’s first attack, he couldn't even grip his sword properly.
Link heard the second man approach, and tilted his sword to the right, allowing the woman’s sword to slide down, before punching her in the face with his aching left hand.
The woman stumbled back because no one really expected to be punched during a sword fight.
Ah well, that's what they got for not wearing helmets.
Link slashed his sword in a long arch, cutting both the woman and the center man across their faces, and forcing them both back.
The left man had seemingly stood up at some point because the most warning Link got was a yell before the man lunged at him.
On pure instinct, Link pivoted on his back foot and stabbed the man in the gap in his armor.
Right in the throat.
The man gurgled and spit up his own blood, and oh Goddess, oh fuck, that was because he was drowning in it.
Link pulled out his sword just as swiftly as he stabbed it in, and quickly pivoted to face his other opponents so he didn't have to see the man on the ground.
He didn't have time to think about what he had just done.
There were still people trying to kill him.
The other man’s eyes were blown wide, and the woman looked horrified.
“You bastard!” the woman yelled, sprinting at him with her sword, and Link couldn't bring himself to disagree.
If she lived, she was going to kill him, he needed to do something about this now.
Pushing off with his leg to get enough force to pierce her chainmail, Link put his sword through the woman’s chest.
She dropped her sword, and Link deftly caught it before it hit the floor, swiftly using it to slash upward through the chest and neck of the final man.
He dispatched his last enemy and left their dying bodies on the grass as they bled out.
He needed to clean himself up before he returned to camp. He could not return looking like this.
And with that thought, Link threw up.
-
It was the first time Link had been outside in months.
That's because Link was a moron.
Genuinely.
Link had been confined to a med bed after a particularly bad fuck up.
He knows his injuries were bad because he was confined to a med bed.
It wasn't like he was all alone, he often had visitors during the night.
Impa and Buc snuck into his room through the window, talking to him.
Mask also visited, exactly once, but he seemingly walked through the front door.
Without being seen.
Which was completely in line with Mask's personality, which meant it made no fucking sense.
Link had to meet with Zelda soon, as in within the week soon.
Zelda who was always a little stressed over every little thing, and always needed to maintain a good image and perform everything correctly.
So, essentially, he had to explain his dumbass decisions to himself, and he already thought he was a useless idiot so clearly it was going to go well.
This only has one solution.
Shopping.
Link excitedly looked around the hair dye shop.
"Is this really the best use of your time?" Impa said as she leaned against a wall.
"If I don't do something fun with my hair I'm going to have an anxiety attack." Link said absentmindedly considering the dyes. "You think I'll look good with dark blonde highlights and tips?"
Impa huffed. "Link, with the amount of effort you put into your looks? I'm pretty sure you could make anything work."
Link spun around to look at Impa with a wide smile.
"Really?" He asked, already half vibrating in joy.
"Yes." Impa calmly responded with a half-smile.
Link turned back around and grabbed the bottle of dark blonde hair dye he was eyeing with a big smile.
"I don't know why you want to- need to do this." Impa said, crossing both of her arms in her yukata. "Zelda isn't mad at you, Link. And even if they were, I don't get how hair dye would help you."
Link gripped the bottle of dye tightly.
Impa was his friend. His best friend, only superseded by his twin.
"I guess…" Link started slowly. "It's like armor."
Link didn't turn to face Impa.
Instead, he read the label of the hair dye, once, then twice, three times-
"Armor for what, Link?" Impa was usually painfully blunt, but now her voice was impossibly soft.
It was painfully gentle.
Link laughed awkwardly, turning around to face Impa.
"I don't know." Link said, voice lacking its normal confidence. "My emotions, I guess?" Link dismissively waved his hand. "Wanna dye your hair?" He was blatantly deflecting and he didn't care.
Impa burst out laughing.
“Link,” Impa said with undeniable fondness in her voice. “I'm a white-haired Sheikah, and you're asking me to dye my hair?” Impa started giggling again.
Link's face burned bright red. “I said something stupid, didn’t I?”
Impa continued to giggle as she nodded her head.
“You are so lucky I was the one you said that dumb shit too.” Impa said fondly, giggling. “Holy shit, Link. You're great.”
Impa stopped leaning on the wall, walked over to Link, and ruffled his hair.
Link swatted her hand away and attempted to fix the mess she made.
“I'll let you do my makeup instead,” Impa said with a soft smile. “Just pick a hairstyle for the guy to do to your hair, and we’ll do our make-up and go see Zel tomorrow.”
Link instantly lit up.
“We're going shopping for your make-up too!” He said excitedly flitting through the hairstyles catalog.
Impa rolled her eyes. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Link shot Impa a bright genuine smile.
“Thank you!”
-
Link was having a day.
That was really the only way to describe it.
Maybe that was his fault for actually listening to Impa and walking through the weird-ass portal that appeared in the middle of the ballroom.
In his sincerest defense, he assumed the portal would allow her and Monarch Zelda to follow him.
Apparently not.
The first thing he thought was that Cia was messing with time again. But that didn't make any sense.
Cia was many things, but stupid enough to be manipulated into trying to remove the Hero for Gannondorf twice was not one of them.
Plus, Lana would have lost her shit weeks in advance. If so much a drop of malice came near Cia, he and Zelda were always the first to know.
Link was always enamored with history, the War, for as awful as it was, made him love history even more.
The chance to talk to living relics only happened so many times— the fact it happened at all during the War was crazy enough on its own —so much to Link's horror and delight he gets to meet more Heroes of the past.
Seeing Mask and Buc again was weird.
The pirate with a calm charming confidence and always kept a guiding hand on his shoulder was replaced with a child.
The angry child with a fighting style that was violent and dangerous enough to terrify the forces of evil was now a calm man who even wore armor.
Mask would never wear armor in fear of getting slowed down during his less than sane gambits, and Buc always made a point to treat kids like kids.
Fuck, that second one was the reason they were always at each other's throats.
It was weird, to say the least.
Not to mention that Warriors had already committed a social faux pas.
Apparently, they were all calling each other by nicknames. Link had recognized them all by sight alone and referred to them by their Hero Title. Like a dumbass.
The Hero of Twilight and Chosen Hero we're especially unhappy with him.
Lovely.
The Hero of Legends didn't so much as blink at him knowing their Hero Title, which Link really shouldn't be surprised about. Hero of Legends. Link didn't think they could be shocked by anything anymore.
Currently, they were sprinting through the Hero of Hyrule's world.
The Hero of Twin Princess's era had almost no records and he could bring so much information back to his time, filling out the history books so this era wouldn't be lost to the fog of time.
Link was excited for all the historical discoveries, right up until he remembered why there were no historical records.
It was a fucking malice scape of monsters.
The Hero of Hyrule was easily one of their more unflappable members. Fae was up there with the Hero of Legends and the Hero of Time. Fe only reacting to things with a tilt of faer's head to deeply concerning information.
This puts that in perspective.
"Don't use any magic items." Faer had said when they first landed in fae's land. "It draws too much attention."
Link had wanted to ask 'attention from what' then and almost regrets not saying anything.
The Hero of Hyrule was fucking fast.
Fae wasn't much physically faster than Link, the kid was far too scrawny for that, fae just didn't slow down.
Ever.
Faer took a sharp left turn and the Heros behind fae struggled to keep up.
" BLOOD OF THE HERO !" The malicious screaming behind them continued.
The Hero of Legends was keeping expert pace with the Hero of Hyrule.
They weren't using their pegasus boots, no turning abilities apparently, but they also weren't getting tired.
Magic, if Link had to hazard a guess.
The Hero of Twilight had long since thrown the Chosen Hero over his shoulder. Everyone had quickly learned the Chosen Hero didn't exactly have the best lungs in the world.
Link took a page out of the Hero of Twilight's book and was carrying both the Hero of Minish and Hero of Wind in his arms.
They had been running for what felt like fucking forever.
Link was lucky to have excellent stamina from the War, and the Hero of Hyrule seemingly had endless stamina, but it was clear the Hero of Time's age was catching up to him.
Though Link was half convinced that the Hero of Twilight would just throw the man over his other shoulder and keep going.
"We're nearly there!" The Hero of Hyrule yelled, without the slightest labor of faer's breath.
The Hero of Hyrule ran up to what looked like a drained pond and fucking stopped.
"Traveller?" The Hero of Legend asked, seemingly only mildly perturbed.
Link dropped the Heroes he was carrying to let them go up closer to the front.
"I need to unlock the door," Faer answered way too calmly.
Link turned around and his stomach dropped.
It was a hoard.
Link had fought hoards of monsters before, but without the familiar strain of war magic pulling at his body he was painfully reminded of how Hylian he was.
Link heard a click behind him and turned his head to see that the Hero of Hyrule had opened the door.
The Hero of Hyrule looked at him before fae's face twisted up in a genuine panic.
Which was not an expression that Link had even come close to seeing fae make.
"Captain! Behind you!" Fae yelled.
Link tried to turn his head but he was dragged back.
Losing his balance, Link clawed at the hand in his hair.
Link fought the urge to start screaming as hair was ripped out of his head with the tight gripe.
He had heard the monster’s cries, they wanted the blood of the Hero to sacrifice them. To bleed them dry. Link was going to be sacrificed. He was going to be brutally killed for his blood-
Lighting shot right by Link's face and this time Link actually screamed.
The Hero of Hyrule had grabbed his arm and dragged him inside the small dungeon cave thing.
Throwing Link on the floor in fae's haste.
Link stared up at the ceiling, listening to the Hero of Hyrule shut and lock the door.
"Captain?" The Chosen Hero called.
"Cap?!" The Hero of Twilight called out, running over to grab Link.
"Link…?" Older Mask mumbled, hesitation obvious in his voice.
They were probably worried because Link wasn't moving.
Link felt like he was floating. Far far away from his body. Even if he tried to move, he didn't think it would work.
He was eventually helped up into the sitting position by a very worried Hero of Twilight and he could feel the stares of every Hero on him.
Link turned to make eye contact with the Hero of Twilight.
"How messed up is my hair?" Link asked, completely disconnected from his body, and deadly serious.
The whole group stared at him before bursting out laughing.
Link didn't find it funny but laughed anyway.
“Of course the first thing you’d ask about is your hair !” Legend said in between laughs.
Link didn't say anything about how important his looks truly were to him.
They didn't need to know how scared and upset he really was.
-
Warriors did not like Sky’s era.
The monsters in his time were smart in a way that made Warriors deeply uncomfortable.
It wasn't that monsters were never intelligent—Lynels struck that idea from his head very quickly—they just weren't quite conscious.
You fight one bokoblin and you’ve fought them all because they were all essentially the same.
Malice, magic, and bones were reanimated in a new grotesque form.
Sure, every now and then you could find a hyper-intelligent Moblin, and it was only ever Moblins for some reason, but that wasn't usual.
All monsters are connected through the same magic. Made throughout the eras in different but similar ways. Minds recycled to the point of being thoughtless beasts.
The monsters in Sky’s era were still new and fresh.
None of them had the mind-rot that the monsters in every other time had.
It was creepy.
Warriors’ attack got blocked, again, and maybe he was slowly losing his patience.
The lizalfos hopped from foot to foot, circling him, and it was driving Warriors crazy.
Warriors didn’t want to look around.
He was the only one struggling this much.
The War required him to learn how to kill many weak enemies at once or overwhelm a much stronger enemy.
He didn't actually know how to properly fight one on one.
Oh sure, he knew theoretically, but he never had to do it after training.
War magic required a particular technique. Broad slashes to catch as many enemies as possible.
Warriors was not a duelist, and it was showing.
The lizalfos was way smarter than it honestly should be.
Warrior had dealt with the Moblins first, there was a group of them flanking the lizalfos, essentially acting as back-up, something he was far more familiar with.
Easily slicing through their shields and killing them in quick elegant movements.
This lizalfos had broken off from fighting Sky, who was handling them so easily, to deal with Warriors.
Warriors wishes there were more Moblins for him to fight.
The lizalfos sprinted at him and Warriors barely had enough time to throw his shield up to keep his chest from getting caved in by the lizalfos’ fucked up stone gauntlet.
He swung his sword at the overgrown lizard’s throat, but the lizalfos fucking parried him.
Warriors stumbled back because monsters weren’t supposed to know how to fucking parry what the fuck, and the lizalfos capitalized on his weakness.
The horrible lizard spun and jumped, slamming Warrior’s in the face with the mace attached to its tail.
Warriors slammed to the ground, air forced out of lungs with a sharp yell.
He couldn't feel the right side of his face.
Well, he could feel something, namely pain.
His face burned, and the air was coming into his mouth through the holes punctured through his cheek.
Warriors was gritting his teeth so hard that he felt pain in his nose as he reflexively pulled his arms up to cover his bleeding face.
He quickly started using his legs to push himself backward in an instinctual attempt to protect himself while he was temporarily blinded, straining his ears to hear when the lizalfos would approach for a finishing blow.
Instead of footsteps, Warriors heard the lizalfos screech in pain.
Warriors opened his left eye, which was making it very clear that it was not his dominant eye, to see the lizalfos with three arrows planted in its head.
The lizalfos disappeared before it even hit the ground.
There was a hand grabbing him by his scarf, right on the back of his neck.
Warriors right hand flailed for his sword, desperate to grab something to protect himself.
“Captain, stop.” Wild said her voice deadly calm. “I'm going to lead you back behind my perch. Stay close and move fast.”
Warriors instantly fell still seeing Wild’s almost blank face.
Since when was Wild that serious?
Wild offered her hand and Warriors quickly pulled himself up, sheathed his sword, and got a quick overview of the battlefield.
It was a mess. Sky was handling them easily, and Twilight had somehow managed to break through one of their stone gauntlets, but everyone else was visibly struggling.
Warriors let out a sigh of relief.
At least he wasn't the only one having problems.
Warriors hissed and covered his left eye as the light from the sun got too much for him to stand. How did Time function with one eye?
Wild grabbed Warriors’ hand, and before Warriors could lift his hand to object, Wild spoke.
“Don't think about protesting,” Wild said coldly. “You’ve lost your depth perception. You need help.”
Warriors nodded awkwardly and hoped Wild couldn't see how he turned red in embarrassment.
Knowing Wild, yes she had. Though she wouldn't point it out.
She was nice about those kinds of things.
Warriors kept his eyes trained on Wild’s back as Wild began to move.
Wild was swift and precise, each step calculated and near-silent, it took every year of Warriors’ training and experience just to keep up with the Wild Hero, and Wild was running slowly for Warrior’s benefit.
He's seen her go faster.
Warriors could hear Twilight and Sky shout to gain more attention from the lizalfos, probably to cover their exit.
Warriors’ exit.
Because for as much as the other struggled, he was the only one who failed at fighting one stupid lizard.
Lovely.
Wild pulled him behind a stone wall, and let go of Warrior's hand.
"I'm going to go back up there," She said, pulling her hair away from her ruby earrings and wrapping it up in a traditional Sheikah bun. "Fix up your face so you can use both of your eyes. Scream if you need me."
With that Wild jumped up, and climbed the wall. Quickly scaling up to her perch, so she could go back to playing support with her bow.
Warriors slid back on the wall, slowly into the sitting position.
Wasn't Wild a knight at one point or something?
Warriors hissed as his tears hit his wounds, and why was he crying?
Goddess, he was so fucking useless, how could he be this much of a drag on the team what the fuck was wrong with him.
Useless, useless, useless, fucking useless!
He needed to fix his face, yes that's what Wild said, he just needed to fix his face.
That would fix this.
Well no, it wouldn't but it would make him feel better.
Warriors pulled out a red potion.
Warriors wanted to use the red potion to completely fix his face.
The rest of the chain was likely going to be very injured when they came back.
They'll know that he wasted a potion on his dumbass looks and he's was-
He was hyperventilating.
When did he start hyperventilating?
He’s just- eye- needed to heal the damage around his eye.
Warriors opened the bottle and drank about half the bottle.
Just enough to heal the damage around his eyes. If he popped a blood vessel or something somehow he'd be even more useless today.
Warriors checked his reflection in his sword and it wasn't that bad.
It looked more like acne scars because they were so small.
Warriors stared at his reflection.
And stared.
And stared.
And stared.
And-
He needed something to do.
He needed something to do that was useful.
What would be the most useful thing to do at this moment?
Warriors eyes flicked around the empty field and- camp!
He could set up camp!
They would all likely be injured and want to rest, and Warriors sincerely doubted that Time would make them move after a battle that was so difficult.
Yes, he could make camp.
Sitting down and being depressed over not being able to do anything was something that Wind or Twilight would do.
Not him.
He was supposed to be a Captain, he needed to hold himself to higher standards.
He needed to keep people from seeing him be useless because he isn't supposed to be useless.
Legend would never sit and mope about something because Legend would never be useless.
They always had an item or experience, and Warriors could not let himself fall beneath that standard.
If he was going to be around the goddess damned Heroes of the past, he was not going to show them that he wasn't up to snuff.
Warriors took a deep breath and got to work.
He needed this done before the others were done fighting or it was worth nothing.
His adventure was already so different from theirs, he didn't need to give them another reason he wasn't like them.
-
Warriors should be able to handle this.
Warriors really should be able to handle this.
He had fought in a war!
Killed millions of monsters with the kind of war magic that ripped normal people apart!
He should be able to handle this.
The woman wrapped her hands around Warriors’ arm and shoving her off to bolt out of the room was seeming more and more appealing.
“Excuse me,” Warriors said, his perfectly crafted smile frozen in place. “But I must be going.”
The woman was saying something back to him, but Warriors' hearing was getting fuzzy and his eyes blurred.
Warriors’ didn't make the conscious decision to turn around and walk away, his body simply decided to do so.
Warriors couldn't hear the sounds of the bar or even the feeling of his footsteps.
He could however feel a hand gripping at his arm again.
Warriors turned to remove the hand, but someone else did before he could.
“ That's enough .” Twilight said, voice low with a growl. “He said stop. Leave .”
Twilight was the third tallest, the most visibly muscular, and had inherented the ability to tower over anyone form Time.
Before Warriors could even open his mouth to speak, Twilight had wrapped his arms around Warriors’ shoulders and started leading him out of the bar.
Warriors stumbled out the door, and wow the air is so much easier to breathe out here.
Twilight continued to pull him farther away from the bar, out by the river running by the village.
Warriors took deep breaths, slowly getting pulled back into his body, grounding himself with the sounds of the river.
“You okay, Wars?” Twilight said, quiet and gentle. “You look really out of it.”
“I'm fine.” Warriors responded automatically, brushing Twilight's arm off of him.
“I just don't like it when women get all pushy with me.” Warriors said, waving dismissively. “Trauma thing.” Warriors added a small laugh to the final sentence, to better sell the lie.
“I don't think you're okay,” Twilight said softly, but firmly. “But I respect that if you don't want to talk about it.”
“Listen-” Warriors tried to start.
“No,” Twilight said firmly. “I'm not going to believe that. Do you want to talk about it? Be left alone? Or do you want me to sit with you in silence?”
Twilight had naturally piercing ice-blue eyes, and they left no room for deflection and lies.
Warriors wanted to run, play it off, and carefully tend to his wounds.
But Twilight was still staring at him.
“I-” Warriors attempted to speak.
When was the last time he spoke about his feelings?
Irrelevant. Twilight didn't need to know why he was panicking.
Impa always told him to talk about his feelings more.
She didn't matter, she hadn't been there when it mattered.
It was Twilight! It wasn't like Twilight was going to laugh at him.
Yes, he was. Who wouldn't think being scared of some random civilian woman tugging at him wasn’t fucking pathetic-
“Thanks, Twilight,” Warriors blurted out before he lost his nerve. “That was kinda scary.”
There.
He said it.
He admitted he was scared.
Twilight's face twisted up into a mournful frown.
Oh.
Warriors fucked up.
Twilight probably thought he was a coward.
A worthless idiot-
“I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner.” Twilight said quietly, regret lacing his voice.
Warriors blinked.
That was not the response he expected.
“I mean,” Twilight continued to ramble. “I thought something was up since she approached you but-” Twilight sighed, before staring right at Warriors with his sharp eyes. “I should have come over sooner. I'm sorry.”
Warriors stared dumbly at Twilight.
Yeah, no. This is not how he thought this would go.
“You want a hug? Would that help?” Twilight offered, barely giving Warriors a chance to process his previous statements.
Warriors nodded minutely, and Twilight wrapped him up into a big hug.
He felt stupid.
He felt safe.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Twilight gently questioned.
“No,” Warriors said, voice quickly filling with emotion. “I dun wanna talk about her.”
“We don't gotta talk about her.” Twilight reassured softly.
Warriors collapsed his weight into his brother's arms, and openly cried for the first time in years.