Chapter Text
One day Ravio had come back home (Well, to Link’s home) to find said hero gone (not unusual) and a handwritten note on the dining table (slightly less usual). The scrawl was messy, unpracticed, but not rushed; not a single blot of ink or misplaced stroke of pen. Ravio would be convinced- if he hadn’t seen the dedication necessary of the hyrulian for him to write, likely due to the infrequency of which the skill is required of him- that the hero is trying not to come across as too caring, with the seemingly slapdash strokes.
That idea is supported, however, with how short the message the paper dons is. ‘New quest suddenly came up. Don’t steal my shit’.
It would seem harsh a message to anyone who doesn’t know Link. But Ravio thinks it would be all too easy for the hero to up and leave without telling anyone, so it sets his heart a flutter when Link is shown to have taken even those extra few minutes to fetch a pen and paper and scribble out a message that would qualm his house mate’s (‘House parasite; you don’t live here, and you don’t pay rent!’) worries. It also shows that Link, as emotionally incapacitated as he is, knows Ravio cares, and at least somewhat appreciates the simple heads-up for the forthcoming absence. To no sane person would this be considered as charming as it is in the lorulian’s eyes. Goddesses, Ravio could have fallen for a nice village girl, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? Instead he’s tripped, tumbled and crashed head over heels for the dense, brick wall of a man who he shares (“Invades!”) a house with; who is at his own home less than Ravio is.
It’s not Ravio’s fault he’d allowed these feelings to stew. There’s a level of truth in that ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’, what with Link upping and leaving for periods of time that can fluctuate between a week and several months. The two of them are almost opposites, Link seemingly allergic to his own emotions, only allowing himself to accept affection when he can trick his mind into thinking he’s reluctant. Ravio often feels he is too much an open book. Despite initially being shy, he’s now loud around the hero, clingy and forthcoming. If the Lorulian didn’t have practice, (years of torturing, yearning practice) his true feelings would have ebbed from his pores and spilt across Link’s flesh by now.
He’s used to it, used to stuffing his heart under the pretence of friendship and going on with his day. So he just picks up the paper, reads it once (only once now, but then dozens of times later, ever day in the other’s absence) and pockets it, before carrying on with his day as planned, pretending not to feel pained by how only one of them seems to hate being away from the other so much.
***
It’s some time after this that Ravio opens his (Link’s) front door one morning, intending to set out on the day’s endeavours, only to stop dead in his tracks.
Link does not have a post box or post slip for his house. Because Link does not get mail. Link gets Royal visitors with quests in mind, a horde of vengeful monsters, or Ravio- but he does not get mail.
Does Ravio get mail? No. Ravio also doesn’t have a post box or post slip in his front door, because he shares (Invades. He does not live here, he invades) the same house as Link.
There’s a single letter set face down in-front of the door. Paranoia tells him it’s a trap. Another part of him, the part that’s been subjected to Link’s influence, immediately belittles the paranoia in that odd sort-of reassurance Link denies ever doing. “I’m beating the stupid thoughts out you” the Link-part of his brain reminds. Ravio wonders whether he’s just stupidly smitten or insane.
He crouches and picks up the letter. It’s sealed neatly, with a care that is only noticed if looked for. The envelope bulges slightly, packed near to its capacity of the number of papers it can hold. If this really was a threat, whoever sent it either needs to write a book, or deals with their superiority complex through monologues.
Ravio flips the envelope over nonchalantly, and all rational and irrational thoughts alike halt in one swift moment. The letter is definitely intended to be delivered to this house, because it is addressed simply to “Link, Hero of Hyrule, Legend”.
However, Ravio hardly minds that small bit of information, because all of mind is focusing on the fact that the handwriting it is written in is Link’s.
Irrational thoughts return to him first. Why is Link writing to himself? Has something gone terribly wrong? It’s been months since he left for his latest quest, and no one across either Hyrule or Loruel have heard of any sign of Link. If something’s gone wrong, are these pre-written letters? Is it a will? Is Link dead?
It is at this idea that his rational thoughts boot back up and jump in to reassure, but horrible scenarios have already taken root. Maybe this is a trap, or a very cruel joke played by a fraud that Ravio would very much like to kill, right now.
Slowly turning and walking back into the house with his eyes glued to the letter, hardly remembering to close the door behind him in his trance, all plans for the day are wiped clean from Ravio’s mind. He sits at their dining room table, as cluttered as it is, and sets the envelope down on the wooden surface, where the letter he found those months ago was sitting.
Ravio just… looks at the envelope for a while, as if if he stares hard enough he’ll never have to open it. But there’s a longing tug to read that he’d never be able to escape. Link struggles to write, the skill only self-taught out of necessity, then left to collect dust at the corner of his mind, so even writing the front of the envelope would not have been a quick, thoughtless endeavour. There’s several pages stuffed in the envelope, what had Link written so much of? This better not be a will or Ravio is reviving the bastard to kiss him then kill him again, himself.
The noisy, curious nature of his personality outweighs the writhing worry, and Ravio flips the envelope onto its back. He tries to open it as carefully as Link seemed to seal it (He doesn’t not think of Link licking the envelope before sealing, because those are childish thoughts, and he’s yearning for the hero but he’s not that far lost, thank you) and allows himself a breath before he opens it slowly.
On the inside of the envelope’s flap, in the neatest writing Ravio has seen produced from Link to date, says ‘To: Ravio’
The purple clad teen has to flap the envelope closed again with a surprised squeak, only having half a mind to bemuse that he’s acting like a flustered maiden. He’s certainly got the blushing down, as well. Goddess, he needs to pull himself together, but damnit he misses the hero! He only gets to see the other teen so often, and he’s been gone for months. Link never writes, unless it’s out of necessity, party due to the effort it requires from him, and partly because Link denies even knowing what the word ‘Sentiment’ means. The fact he’d written Ravio’s name on the inside of the envelope makes it feel almost like a secret and Damnit Ravio you’ve known him for years, the boy doesn’t even wear trousers and this is what gets you?
Ravio vehemently flips the envelope back open and carefully pries all of the contents out and Lolia he was right, this is so, so much.
Multiple pages are filled margin to margin in Link’s scrawl, tightly packed but endearingly legible and Ravio can see that Link has used every inch of space on the paper to write as much as he can and Ravio can seehow much thought must have gone into it because despite the goddess-literal essay the boy has written, not a single letter is crossed out or misplaced. Every word must be thought over, agonised over, and Ravi wants to cry.
Link does not get mail. He does not send it either. He doesn’t do stories and sentiment, and yet Ravio sits through the better of an hour reading every word he wrote, drinking in every detail- stopping every now and then to think of and fully imagine what he describes- and the way he’s describing different worlds, different people and cultures and magic and life is encouraging Ravio to be excited. Link is trying to drag him out with him on his journey the best way he can and Ravio is falling for him all over again.
He can hear Link’s voice and the snark of his tone and his biting sarcasm in his writing, can almost hear his denial of affection towards his counterparts that he thinks so fondly of, his family, and goddess Link is sharing his family with Ravio. He reads the last page, not a single word wasted on a conclusion, all filled to the brim with more information and stories, and then Ravio has finished all the letters, he’s read them all; yet he still wants more.
He sits there, speechless for several moments, mouth slightly agape as he thinks and resets his view on the world, shifting it slightly right as the gravity of what Link- Legend, now, apparently- has said rejigs Ravio’s perception of the heroes of Hyrule. Link is going to be gone for a while. Ravio finds he resents Link’s family slightly, the jealousy of a lover aimed at Hylia, who took Link away and threw him through a portal. Do they know how lucky they are, to be able to spend every hour of every day in the company of Link?
Ravio’s sigh is melancholy; let down. He takes the envelope and hears the slide of card inside. His attention is still rapt but his movements are more sluggish, defeated, as he tips the envelope so the card slips out. On the back is written ‘Left to right:’. And a list of all the names Ravio is now familiar with through Link’s papers.
Ravio flips the card over and is presented with a pictograph, somehow physical and under his finger tips.
Baring minimal but acknowledging glances to the other members of the pictograph, Ravio’s eyes snap- just as they always do- to Link. His Link. He’s pulling a face, pretending to be irritated as a younger hero- Wind- takes a picture of them all mid-meal, the pirate’s head large and in the foreground of the corner of the image. The lighting and the figure of one of the heroes (Sky) encased still in a sleeping bag but sitting up and holding a plate suggests it’s dawn. A fire crackles in the centre of where a collection of people sit, casting extra colour to their faces. Ravio entertains the fact that they do look like they could be related, despite obvious and varying differences between each of them- they’re similar to each other in the same way Ravio is to Link as counterparts. They look tired, battle and travel-worn, but comfortable in each other’s presence. Link is looking directly at the camera, one hand casually flipping it off, an older and armoured hero- Time- glaring with mild disappointment towards him. In another hand is a half finished meal, and at his feet is his sword and shield. Despite how Link looks tired- just woken up- and aggressive towards the camera, Ravio recognises the mirth in his eyes. The affection he’d had years of practice in reigning in. Wind has managed to take a picture of all the heroes, but the image was clearly meant for Link because across the bottom of the pictograph, in a scrawl that is not his own and with the beginning of a message in an unfamiliar hyrulian language crossed out, is written ‘Legend pretendings he hate us’. The poor grammar suggests the version of the hyrulian language is not familiar to the writer, and yet an effort is still clearly made just to be able to wind up Link further.
Ravio resents the other heroes for being able to earn Link’s affections, however (poorly, apparently) concealed they are. Ravio is jealous they get to spend so much time with him, no matter the circumstances, when Ravio is stuck swooning over the hero simply writing his name. He’s guilty that he feels this, when Link so clearly has found a group he belongs in.
Ravio has long since forgotten about his plans for the day, and he spends his time re-reading the letters until the sun settles down to make way for the night; longing for something unfathomably unachievable.
***
It is a week later before Ravio realises that he’s able to send a letter back.
Link’s amused retailing of when they first discovered that the Hyrule mail man appears to be some equivalent of a time travelling messenger god describes how one of the heroes’ family (It was Wind’s sister, Ravio isn’t going to pretend he doesn’t have everything memorised.) successfully sent him a letter. If this story holds any sense of reliability (Link and Ravio are slightly-manipulative tricksters with a knack for trouble, but neither are liars) then Ravio should, by extension, also be able to send a message to Link.
He finds some paper and a pen to write with, and settles down on the dining room table to begin his letter.
It is two scrunched up pieces of paper and a lot of ink wasted on scribbling words out later that Ravio realises he has nothing to write about.
The most exciting thing about Ravio’s life is Link. Business is great, fortunately, but there’s only so much you can write about haggling with travellers before you sound like a bore compared to the paragraphs of anecdotes of worlds and times so vastly different from their own. Ravio cannot write about Link, either, lest his gruellingly built up mental dams burst and he floods the pages with his admiration.
Ravio does not write back to Link
***
He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this lonely in the absence of Link. Maybe it’s because, for once, Ravio actually knows what’s going on; knowing Link is seemingly enjoying himself more than he ever has in Ravio’s company. That he is not missing his warm bed whilst he tackles dungeons. The worry for Link’s health is minuscule in comparison to Ravio’s bitter jealousy.
***
Ravio no longer feels he can hold the title of a ‘travelling merchant’, as his time spent at Link’s house increases more and more over the months. People start to recognise it as ‘Ravio’s house’ instead of ‘Link’s house’ or even ‘Link and Ravio’s house’, as if they’ve forgotten the home isn’t his.
This makes him very sad.
***
He’s thinking a lot about Link, now. He no longer reads the letters over before he sleeps, purely because he can recite it from memory- not because it hurts too much to read them. Every time Ravio does, he’s reminded that Link is somewhere far, far off with a group of people truly like him. A group of people who he can see the faces of, who he probably trusts and knows like the back of his hand.
Sheerow is giving him the saddest looks a bird-creature can.
***
Ravio has thought about Link enough, to realise he not only loves him, but he’s in love with him. This is accompanied by a night spent crying, and an amount of alcohol he vows never to consume in one sitting again
***
People are asking Ravio about Link. Princess Zelda is asking him where Link is, as if he’s the most likely to know. Maybe they all know that he’s in love with the missing hero. Maybe that’s why even new customers and travellers from other countries look at him with pity, or perhaps he’s imagining it all. He’s never shown his face to anyone, yet this doesn’t stop every creature under the sun and moon from understanding Ravio is heartbroken, a widow who has to deal with the fact his lover is some place else, all but dead to the world they live in.
Ravio needs to stop being so dramatic. He needs to pull himself together.
***
Slowly, the pain is numbing. It doesn’t disappear, but it begins to tuck away in the back corner of his mind, where Ravio keeps the tragedies of his childhood.
***
Ravio makes it through the first day in a year without thinking about Link. It makes him sad all over again. This is for the best, he thinks, as he ignores the permanent face of sympathy that is plastered on anyone that looks his way. He’s exaggerating it all in his head, he knows this, but it does not stop his brain twisting what his eyes see.
***
Ravio makes it home one day from an overdue visit to castle town to find his front door unlocked. Alarm sirens shriek in his mind, and Ravio’s stance instinctively crouches down, making himself smaller and ready to run if needed. His childhood spent on the streets of Loruel taught him something, at least.
He slowly drops the items he’d acquired from Castle town down beside the door and he looks at Sheerow, who understands immediately and scouts in first when he opens the door. Clever bird. Ravio creeps into his Link’s house (Ravio’s house) and is immediately scanning his eyes over everything, checking his memory of every item in the house to compare to, to see if anything’s been tampered with in any way. This tactic was certainly much easier when he was younger, when there were less items to his name for him to memorise and check over- the complete opposite to the cluttered, lived-in rooms Ravio now resides in.
His attention is being wasted on the wrong subject, it seems, because there are voices, multiple, all talking over each other, all in Hylian, coming from Link’s (His. Their) basement.
One booms over the others, snapping warningly “Do not touch that by Farore if you want to keep all ten of your fingers!”
Ravio’s lungs collapse on themselves. His brain short circuits. Most importantly, his heart skips several, much needed beats, before picking up at a marathon’s pace.
That’s Link.
That’s Link’s voice.
Link is home.
Ravio’s first instinct is to run downstairs- from where the voices came- and run towards Link. Millions of ideas of what he’ll do to the hero speed through Ravio’s mind, being of no help to his palpitating heart. He needs to be calm and rational. He cannot scare the hero off.
Another problem, however: Link is most certainly not alone.
There are several voices, all male of different ages, none older than 40, most around 20. Each one has a different accent, many Ravio has never heard before.
Before Ravio can worry they are intruders or ill-willed, he’s reminded of why Link has been so absent for so long, why Ravio’s heart is beating at such an unusual frequency. Part of him is surprised. Even though he never doubted Link’s letters, knowing and seeing (well, hearing) are completely different things.
He approaches the stairs leading to the basement, slipping down each step silently, avoiding each creak with practice. Sheerow flies past his shoulder, deep into the room, and if the bird sees no threats then Ravio won’t either.
For the supposed most famed and capable heroes across Hyrule’s history and future, none of them seem to notice Ravio. It works in his favour that most are not looking at him, instead at one of the members, who’s brandishing an item of Link’s above their head with the carelessness of someone with an inexperience towards magical items and nonchalance to their potential curses.
Ravio descends the stairs, and notices a chest open, propped perfectly so that the person holding it open is hidden, out of Ravio’s view, beside the tips of the fingers over the top that hold the lid up.
“Wars I swear by Hylia herself if you do not put that down in five seconds I will not be held accountable for the curse that befalls you”
Behind the open chest, is none over that Ravio’s Link.
He almost gives himself away to the heroes, with the squeak that builds in his throat. It has been a year since he heard his voice, and he was beginning to entertain the thought he’d never hear it again. There’s a mix of irritation and amusement, as if Link can’t decide on which one he’s feeling, and Link’s usual accent has changed ever so slightly- so slightly that anyone who does not know him well would not notice. So slightly that, unless you only hear the beginning and end product, you’d never notice it. Ravio is self-aware enough to know he’s bitter that this small change means he’s picked it up from the other heroes.
All eyes are set on the hero brandishing a mirror, who in turn is focused on said mirror. Ravio finishes his silent sneaking down the stairs, and moves swiftly to behind the chest Link holds open, hunching his posture slightly so he cannot be seen. He’s so close! What in Lolia is he doing?
Ravio peaks inconspicuously around the open lid of the chest, and watches as Warriors chuckles, and spins the mirror in his hand. Ravio’s heart lurches into his throat: damnit, are they all idiots? Who handles magical artefacts so carelessly? “For someone who calls me the ‘Pretty Boy’, you sure do have a lot of mirrors.”
Jealously is not a good colour on anybody, so Ravio is glad he wears a hood to hide the scowl he’s not quick enough to stop from sprawling across his features.
From how close Ravio is he can hear Link intake a breath to retort. Damnit damnit damnit! Ravio’s being so creepy, hiding behind Link’s chest and listening to him breathe, but he’s not the hero! Ravio does not have the courage to face Link for the first time in a year, the first time since he realised he was in love with the idiot.
Oh shit. That’s not a good thought to have right now. Oh shit oh shit. Forget facing Link’s reaction, Ravio dreads how he’ll react. Thank the goddesses for hoods.
The retort Link was building up never makes it past his lips, because one of the other heroes (Ravio doesn’t know who, he’s sufficiently hidden behind the chest lid again, he can see none of them) asks casually “Hey Legend” Something in Ravio’s chest prickles at the nickname. Link. His name is Link “Do you keep live animals down here?”
What live anim- oh. Sheerow. Shit.
Link seems to be in the process of asking that same question when Ravio hears the familiar twitter of the bird, Traitor, disloyal blasted bird- Ravio’s going to sell him to the next customer-
Suddenly the protection of the chest lid is no longer there as Link slams it down bodily, causing Ravio to jump upright, and his eyes lock widely onto Link’s, whose are staring directly at him. He squeaks, the usual comfort of Sheerow returning to his shoulder feeling a lot like betrayal and dread, as Link grounds out “What are you doing here?”
Ravio should not find him as attractive as he does. The voice is low and rough, almost a growl, and there’s almost a panic to it, which hurts Ravio’s heart. His eyes are unwavering, locked intensely with Ravio’s despite the mask of a hood, bright and blue as always. His hair is pinker than when he left, suggesting since then he’s been in his rabbit form at least once (once across a year. A year of absence and the unknown). He wears the same red tunic, the same blue hat. His expression is the same fake annoyance as always, but Ravio recognises with some glee that there’s a wonder in his eyes, that Ravio recons his own eyes reflect tenfold. A disbelief at seeing the other after so long.
Before Ravio can reply with a smart quip, the first words to his hero after so dreadfully long, he finds eight separate blades being drawn in a heart beat and thrust at his face, encouraging the merchant to tumble to the floor.
He’s mortified. Utterly mortified. Some horrible first impression he makes on the heroes of legend. But more importantly, some emotional reunion with Link this is.
Ravio only has enough confidence to stutter out “F-Friend! I’m a friend!” He holds up his hands to show he’s non-threatening, but the loss of support keeping him sitting up makes him tumble back awkwardly. He’s screwing this all up! “I’m unarmed!” His mind casts back to the multitude of weapons he keeps in his person, more out of a habit than anything. His fumbled mind stupidly supplies “Well, that’s a lie” the crowd of blades inch closer. He raises his arms higher. His stutter increases “But I am no foe! I swear!”
Link, seeming to have had enough of this frankly pathetic and embarrassing show, interrupts “Guys, he’s a friend. Put your bloody swords away- Hylia’s sake.”, it’s said with a casual air of indifference and humour, as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary about the situation. As if he’s not finally back.
Ravio at least has the satisfaction of seeing the heroes act sheepishly at how they’d jumped to threaten Ravio. Small victories, he supposes. He quickly stumbles to his feet, not wanting the heroes to tower over him any longer, not wanting Link’s first impression of him in a year to be of him cowering on the floor of their basement- not that there’s much he can change about that now.
“I’m Ravio” he says, in a way that he hopes does not come across as how skittish he actually feels. Link is right there next to him and goddesses Ravio wants to grab him, drag him up and out of the basement, away from the other Links, up to Ravio’s bedroom, his bedroom, their bedroom, and confess straight onto his skin.
Ravio, instead, does none of these things, instead thanks the hood that covers his flushing face, and says “I’m Link’s house mate”
Immediately this prompts an age old banter, as Link groans out beside him, swivels to Ravio and points a finger at him in mock sternness. Ravio wonders self-satisfyingly whether the other heroes are able to distinguishing between his teasing sarcasm and his genuine type. “No, don’t try with that. This is my house, Bunny”
Ravio basks in the familiar ground, does not blush at the nickname, and instead cocks his hip out, a sing-song lilt to his voice as he replies “Well then who’s been keeping our house in such a nice condition, because it certainly wasn’t you”
His tone shows no bitterness or resent- Ravio phrases the statements the same way he would have a year or more ago, during the same repeated, routine argument, and yet he sees Link falter for a moment, as if just remembering the two of them have not, in fact, seen each other for such a long time. Ravio briefly wonders if it’s been more or less time to Link. He wonders whether he’s kept track and- if so- whether he lost it.
It’s only a moment of hesitation, however, before Link continues almost seamlessly onwards “Consider it rent, Merchant” the last word is phrased as a mock-insult, and is punctuated with Link jabbing Ravio in the stomach.
His brain stutters to a tripped halt at the contact, even through the layers of Ravio’s clothing. He doesn’t reboot fast enough to come up with a counter-statement before one of the other heroes asks (and Ravio once again does not know who, because he was not looking at them when they spoke) “Legend, you have a housemate?” extremely incredulously, clearly hung up over the fact. Is it that hard to believe? Do none of the heroes have friends? Ravio finds the idea makes him a little smug.
Ravio also takes pride in that the other heroes do not know Link as well as he once feared- if they did not know such a simple fact about him- but the pride battles with the rejection, as it dawns on him that Link has not told any of them about Ravio.
He’d temporarily forgotten he and Link weren’t the only ones in the room, so focused on his return and that he’s here, finally, he’s back here. He looks over the room to finally take in its other occupants. His observation from the pictograph Link had sent him was certainly true- they all look like varyingly distant relatives of Link’s. They are all also, unfortunately, very attractive in their own rights, and if Ravio wasn’t already so stupidly smitten for one of them, he’d find himself spoilt for choice.
One of them, however- Warriors, Ravio picks out again- almost seems to read Ravio’s mind, as he steps forward with a charming smile (Ravio bemuses the hero must have practiced it for hours in the mirror for some time in his life) asking “My, Ravio! A pleasure to meet you! Now, why does a young man with such a beautiful voice hide his face?”
Ravio’s eyebrows shoot into his forehead, and despite his hood his reaction must be conveyed in his body language because all the heroes either react with groans of ‘here we go again’s or entertained smirks. Link, satisfyingly, leans towards the former. There’s a snarl on his voice as he quips to Warriors “Please restrain yourself from flirting with whatever has a pulse, Warriors, or next time I won’t warn you when you decide to wave around whatever cursed object you pick up”
Ravio must be imagining the protectiveness in his hero’s voice, because that is simply too good to be true. None of Link’s mannerisms have shown much of a relief at seeing the purple-clad lorulian yet, and the mere idea is too fantastical.
The group is watching the interaction happily from the sidelines, and their heads all snap towards Warriors as a dutiful audience, awaiting the next line. Ravio tries not to be disappointed that this appears to be a common interaction, then.
Warriors plays his part as a shit-eating, teasing grin spreads across his features and Ravio does not like it. That expression looks wrong on anyone that is not Link, and the hero is too well polished and overly-charming to be anything good and genuine. The foreign hero replies “Why? Is Ravio unavailable, then, Legend?”
Judging from the wide eyed reaction of all the other heroes as their gaze snaps back to Link, and now, Ravio, Warriors is going slightly off script. Ravio has thanked his hood for hiding his expressions enough times already to be able to appoint the fabric as a deity to pray to.
Ravio misses Link’s immediate reaction (probably for the better, he doesn’t want to see whatever disbelieving expression the hero pulls in the split second of genuine, unguarded emotion), but he does hear the reply “Not that it would matter to you, would it, playboy?”
Eyes travel back towards Warriors as soon as the line is delivered. Ravio is caught up on how Link hadn’t denied it (or had he? Had he shaken his head, pulled an expression of disgust? Has he figured out Ravio’s love for him and is sparing the lorulian the pain? Lolia don’t let it be the last one-)
Warriors looks ready to dish out another reply, seemingly unaffected, before a new voice interjects “Legend, Warriors, that’s enough.” Ravio’s startled by the rightful superiority the voice commands, wisdom and unfathomable experiences hidden in the smooth authority it ushers. The room falls silent. All heroes’ and Ravio’s eyes flick to the oldest member of the room. Time- if Ravio remembers correctly (of course he does). The voice makes sense. From anyone else, the commandment would come off as a annoying or disdainful, and yet just looking at the hero’s appearance, Ravio finds himself thinking otherwise, despite his growing disliking towards the group.
Link’s descriptions of Time had been almost praising- certainly out of character for Link. He’d said Time was the only hero anyone else had consistently heard stories of, some members of the group being able to retell legacies that the man could confirm. He is said to be the first to have been sent through the portal, the father of the group and the speaker of words of wisdom.
So every hero, even Link, shuts up.
Everyone is attentive, which leaves for another hero to step forward, smiling care-freely (Ravio hates that it’s carefree. Is he pretending not to be affected by the wears of his travel? Did Link get the worst quests of them all?) and says “We should introduce ourselves to Ravio- give an explanation, after all- we have invaded his house.”
***
That’s how he finds himself making 10 sets of tea, rummaging around the house for cups or anything that could contain liquid effectively- they’re not equipped for hosting so many guests at once. Ravio sits through the stories the heroes tell, nodding and reacting in the right ways at the right times, pretending not to have heard everything they tell him, and more, in much more vivid detail, already. There’s a small level of entertainment at hearing their lying excuses, when they try and cover up holes in their alibis.
Link is watching him. Link knows Ravio well enough to know when the merchant is looking out of the corner of the hood’s visibility, would know when Ravio is pretending not to look at Link. He tries very hard not to look at Link. He does a horrible job. Link keeps staring at him.
Ravio should find it intimidating, sitting in a room with all of them. Instead he finds them irritating. He can’t help but notice every similarity between them and Link, and think copycat. He can’t help but see every difference and think Fake.
Link is still watching him. He hasn’t touched his tea. Link hates tea. Ravio doesn’t know why he made it.
“So Ravio” a new voice. Ravio follows the sound to look at Twilight. His eyes are narrowed, sceptical, and his voice treads lightly. “How come Legend has never told us about you?”
Ravio doesn’t move his head but glances at Link through the corner of his eye. He has shown no physical reaction- either to his teammate’s question or to how he can tell Ravio is glancing at him.
Ravio sighs, and twirls his finger around the outside of the cup. He had given himself and Link their best cups, their only matching ones. Ravio hopes it sends a message towards the other heroes- to Link- but he doesn’t know what he wants that message to be. Ravio hasn’t drank his tea either. He hates tea. At least he finds comfort in the warmth, unlike Link, who’s cup has been left to cool on their coffee table.
Ravio turns fully to Link (Link. His name is Link, notLegend, Link) and asks before he can think his words through “I don’t know. Why haven’t you told them about me?” He shouldn’t sound so pissed off and condescending, but it hurts, so much. He’s spent the entirety of a year missing the idiot, and yet apparently Ravio isn’t important enough in Link’s life for him to even mention Ravio to the people he’s been travelling with and fighting with for that year. He doesn’t even look remotely happy to see the merchant again. If anything- Ravio’s presence has brought a scowl to his face
Link is glaring straight back at Ravio. There’s a tension between them, but not the tension Ravio missed. Not the false-tension they build up with teasing. Not the tension of Ravio’s unwavering worry for the hero when he returns bruised and cut up from quests. Not the tension that, only at night when he lies in bed, Ravio thinks is the tension that teeters them on the edge of something more.
This tension is horrible and thick and Ravio cannot read it because he’s changed so much and he hates it.
Wordlessly, but not without the dramatic flare of scraping his chair back, Link stands up swiftly, and walks straight out of the room, through the kitchen, and out into their garden (correction: the seemingly endless expanse of unclaimed land that just happens to act as their garden).
Ravio continues to stare at the point Link was sitting. He pays no mind to the tremble in his lower lip, the way his body shakes, the salty, ugly tears that burn down his face and drop- falling between his hood and his scarf- onto the backs of his hands, which are clasped tightly together on his lap, the knuckles turning white. They both seem to have a thing for the dramatics, for blowing things up and out of proportion.
There’s yet another tension in the room. It’s different; Ravio hates it even more, because Link has got up and left him again, this time without a word ushered, no letter left on the table in his messy, careful scrawl.
It isn’t Ravio who goes out after Link, but rather one of the heroes- Hyrule, apparently. Link had described how his world was similar to Loruel. Ravio doesn’t know if this should make him more empathetic towards the hero or more distainful.
Someone crouches down beside Ravio’s chair. He’s still staring at the spot Link was sitting in- no one crosses his vision. Someone takes the cup out of his hands- trying to be careful at first, but when Ravio’s grip doesn’t give, they yank it out from his grasp- and sets it on the coffee table. No one offers a word of condolence. The air in the room changes from a heavy tension to awkwardness. The heroes don’t know what to do with Ravio, don’t know how to get rid of this weird person that had snapped at their friend then started crying. Ravio takes the liberty to stand up, gaze still unfixed.
Ravio doesn’t actually know if he says anything to them before he leaves, but no one jumps at the opportunity to keep him inside. Link would. But he’d already left Ravio, again.
He finds himself at Hyrule castle.
Princess Zelda is a busy person: Royal duties to attend to, academics to strive for, kingdoms to harmonise and run. Ravio walks in a trance through the castle- it’s a miracle no one stops him- and happens across Zelda in her study. The purple clad teen pauses, as if not expecting to see the princess in her own house. Zelda spares one moment to take in Ravio’s appearance, before she gets up from her chair (she also does this wordlessly, but she does not scrape the chair back. Doesn’t ignore the cup of tea he made her. Doesn’t disappear into their garden) and wraps him in a hug.
It’s restrained. Ravio and Zelda aren’t particularly close- the only thing they have in common is Link. Link, whose rare but rough affections he misses. The hugs he’d give Ravio once in a blue moon are tight and protective, strong arms wrapping around and encasing the lorulian, completely embracing. Zelda’s delicate arms circle tentatively around Ravio’s figure, maybe too scared that if she holds him too tight he’ll break, maybe because they’re not close like he and Link are, he hasn’t earned bear hugs from the princess.
He returns the hug a little tighter, craving the girl to embrace him more fully, protect him from these stupid feelings that are hurting him. She does not. Ravio cries silently into her shoulder, ruining the fabric of her dress. Neither say a word- they are not close, they are not confidants- and yet Zelda seems to understand all the same. He spends the night at Hyrule castle, leaving his house (Link’s house. Links’ house) to be invaded and ransacked by foreigners and frauds who look and act like Link but are not him.
Ravio is appointed a small guest chamber for the night after he awkwardly nods his head ‘yes’ when asked if he’ll stay, and finds, surprisingly, that Zelda is the one to gently wake him up next morning. The princess must have duties, meetings, academics to involve herself in- she could have sent a servant or a butler or a knight or whatever she has at her services to rouse Ravio from his fitful sleep, yet, she does so herself.
“Talk.” It’s authoritative and regal, leaving no option of decline, yet still soft- the promise of a non-judging ear. Ravio wonders why he never approached the princess in the year of Link’s absence, they would have been able to mourn his departure together.
What he tells her is sparing. He does not inform her of context, merely sticks to the emotional aspect of it all. He expresses the loneliness and the hatred and goddess- the love- that Link has managed to stir a concoction of in his mind and Zelda sits through it all and listens. Ravio admits he’s being dramatic. He’d been confrontational to Link and yet he is the one crying on a friend’s shoulder.
“It’s okay to feel hurt” Zelda says “Regardless of whether you feel you’re being dramatic, they’re your feelings and they’re genuine. The only help I can propose to you is to recommend you communicate with Link, tell him all of this- or at least some of it- and hope he opens up to you, too”
The idea is almost laughable. Opening up to Link, the same boy who is allergic to sentiment? He’d probably shrug them off or play them down or insist on a change of subject. It would make him uncomfortable and makes things worse snd Ravio may actually loose him.
Ravio does not tell Zelda this. Ravio nods and promises he’ll talk to Link and thanks her for her hospitality, and then he’s back out of the castle, leaving Castle Town behind as well. He feels stupid, to run away from his problem so theatrically over something so trivial to the eyes of anyone else.
Ravio muses not returning home. It’s a convincing argument in his head: No heroes, No Link, No reminders- and yet he knows in his heart he cannot. Sheerow returns to his shoulder during his hike back to his house, and it calms Ravio considerably. How hostile can all the heroes really be? Link described them so fondly in his letters (The blasted letters that started this all) and they’re, well, heroes. Ravio reassured himself they’re not going to curse him out to Din and kick him out of his own house (his house, their house)
He arrives at the front door. He wonders briefly who went to the liberty of bringing in the shopping he’d dropped on the doorstep yesterday upon return. He wonders whether they’d nicked a couple of the items- the group certainly seemed keen to keep the magical items they’d been rummaging through yesterday in their basement. Although groceries probably aren’t up to their calibre of things worth stealing. Ravio remembers a time where all of his own belongings were stolen instead of bought.
The door is unlocked. They’re still home. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Sheerow’s twittering on his shoulder assures it’s a good thing. Ravio isn’t so sure.
He walks dejectedly into the house and closes the door behind him. What now? Ravio waits, awkwardly, in his own corridor, as a stranger in his own house. He stands there until the shortest hero- Four- steps out from their living room and pauses mid step upon seeing Ravio, hand already halfway towards where his sword would usually be strapped to his back.
The two stare at each other for several, stunned beats. Sheerow stays silent but digs his talons into Ravio’s shoulder, urging him to speak first. He does not do such a thing.
Four brings down the foot he’d held in the air in what would have been a comical pause had the situation been any less tense, and nods once- decisively. “Come with me” Four says.
For one scared moment, Ravio dreads that the hero is going to bring him to Link, but he chastises himself guilty. Link is his friend- his best friend, his housemate and the owner of all his affections. He should not be thinking of the hero as some daunting monster at the epicentre of a dungeon, they’ve had fights before. Ravio is a coward, however.
Four instead leads him to the living room where most members of the group are, excluding Link and another. Ravio notices the other missing Link (ha) is Hyrule, the one that went after his housemate when he stomped off. He wonders if Link had come back yet. He wonders if Hyrule is his new best friend.
Four guides him to an empty seat (his seat! This is his house!), but it feels too casual and comfortable to sit in a room in front of seven quest-hardened, Triforce-wielding warriors, so Ravio stays standing.
Four pushes him down into the seat gently, but with a strength surprising for his small stature. It reminds Ravio of Link before his growth spurt, when the lorulian was taller, once upon a time. He dare says Link has grown even further during this latest quest, despite them being late teens. Ravio should not be finding this trail of thought attractive, he’s supposed to be mad (is he?) at Link. Thank Lolia, once again, for the hood that covers his face.
Once Four also makes himself comfortable, there’s a horribly uncomfortable silence. Ravio wonders who will break it first- he knows for certain it’s not him.
The first one to speak up is Twilight, surprisingly, as Link had described him as rather stoic when first met. Ravio should have seen it, however, from how the hero has a guilty expression painted across his brow, and how his knee jitters up and down “I’m sorry” He blurts, and something about it, about the rooms reaction, leads Ravio to believe this is not a common display from the hero. “I should not have asked that- it was cruel and uncalled for”
There’s a brief moment of confusion as Ravio tries to remember what Twilight is referring to, before Ravio recollects that he was the one that asked the question that kickstarted (well, accelerated) this whole ordeal. Ravio entertains being mad at the hero for a moment, before deciding it would be unfair, considering he’d forgotten about that part of the confrontation. It’s clearly playing on the hero’s conscience as well, and Ravio isn’t going to be unnecessarily cruel- doesn’t want to make enemies out of Hyrule’s chosen, out of Link’s friends. He wants to fix this all, not make it worse, so he instead nods, accepting the apology with forgiveness.
Twilight visibly relaxes. He leans back slightly, his brows are less furrowed and his shoulders less tense, but his knee continues to bounce.
Another silence. None of the heroes seem particularly chatty. Ravio would be afraid to meet any of their eyes, if his hood didn’t hide his gaze. He doesn’t let his eyes linger longer than necessary, he fears their battle-instincts would be developed enough to feel Ravio’s eyes on them.
Time suddenly breathes in deeply, loudly, and Ravio has the impression of an incoming lecture. His good eye meets with Ravio’s, who finds himself locked with the gaze (it’s amazing Time even knows where his eyes are under the hood). The hero’s eye is hooded, seemingly unbothered, but there’s a piercing quality. Ravio sits and fidgets his fingers between each-other, as if waiting to be scolded.
Instead Time begins “How long has it been for you?”. It’s an odd question, seemingly out of the blue, and Ravio struggles for an answer despite having the days memorised.
Ravio finally answers “A little over a year.” With the horrible squeaky quality his voice adopts when even slightly intimidated. He’s glad he didn’t embarrass himself by admitting the true time to being 14 months, 6 days and 8 hours since he found the note on the table, another 2 weeks since the last time he actually saw Link.
Time nods once, as if this was vital information, but does not continue further on this track of conversation “How long have you been living with Link?”
Ravio is surprised by how relived he is that Time referred to Link by his actual name. Can the hero sense how unsettled Ravio was? Is he assuming Ravio needs time to adjust to the ‘new’ information they’d given him?
He finds himself staring silently at Time for a moment too long for it not to be awkward and clears his throat agitatedly “I- uh. I don’t actually live here?”
His tone flicks up at the end, posing it as a question, and judging from the raised brow from Time and a multitude of other disbelieving expressions that pass across the room it doesn’t sound convincing either. Ravio shifts in his seat and clears his throat “Ah- this is Link’s house. Back when… before, I doubted he stayed here much. He only really came back in between quests, or dropped by when he was injured.”
The heroes keep watching and waiting for him to continue. Clearly, this explanation is not satisfying enough for them. A blush creeps across Ravio’s face “I’m a travelling merchant” it’s been a while since he’d called himself such “So I don’t really have a home. I dropped by here often to keep my stuff and to occasionally have a roof on my head. The occasional company is nice as well, ‘spose”
They’re all still looking at him. Are they expecting more out of him? Can they read thoughts? Part of Ravio hopes they can, just so he doesn’t have to sort them out into actual words, so he doesn’t have to speak. “I guess… I’ve stayed here more often since… y’know?” It’s once again asked almost like a question. “But the first time I dropped my stuff here was about 3-4 years ago?” What more do you want?
This finally seems to satisfy Time, who nods once and leans back, breaking the unwavering eye contact.
A moment of releif is all Ravio feels before he belatedly realises Time’s small interrogation was what was keeping all the other heroes from jumping on his skin. That period of protection abruptly ends.
Wind, the youngest and clearly most excitable, practically jumps forward in his seat. He either doesn’t notice the tense atmosphere or stubbornly ignores it “Mr Ravio! Why do you wear the hood? Have you got some big scar on your face? Can I see?”
The members of the room wince at the direct questions, and Ravio tries not to snap at the kid. He needs to get rid of this deep rooted predjedice he had against all of them because of them being Other Links. That does not, however, means he is suddenly good with kids, world-savers or not. “I- uh. Insecurities?” It’s also posed as a question. Can you please believe me?
Wind scrunches his mouth up to the side, trying to decide whether or not to prod further with the question. Fortunately, he does not, and instead changes his approach “Do you have lots of cool magical items like Leg- Link? Can we see?”
Ravio appreciates the clear attempt at trying to adapt to Ravio’s distaste for Link’s new nickname, so he entertains the kid a bit more “I do, indeed, have many wonderful weapons and magical items” he falls back on his merchant’s persona, hiding behind it as he throws an arm upwards, causing Sherriw to flutter off it and switch to his left side “You can rent some of them if, you’d like! For a small fee, of course”
Wind’s eyes twinkle, as do Wild’s, who sits next to Twilight, who looks disgruntled at the idea of magic, and Four- who looks sceptical. “You seem to like magic, kid” Ravio plays into his excitment “Got any magic items of your own?”
Some members of the group shift. Touchy subject, aparently. Wouldn’t be suprising, even no-sentiment Link keeps some of his items in a locked chest under his bed.
Wind, however, seems over-joyed to share. He reaches into a pocket (important or powerful item, then, if he keeps it on his person in a designated spot like that) and draws out a silver rod deftly, holding it between three fingers like a conductor. It appears everyone in the group recognises this item, and it’s met with varying looks or wariness and fear. Ravio’s betting on powerful, then.
“This is the Wind Waker!” Wind continues with boyish excitment, a kid proudly showing off their art. He waves it slightly, a tinkling bell sound following it as it produces a small dusting trail of glitter in its wake. Everyone in the room either draws in a breath, flinches, or grabs onto something concrete. Stupidly powerful, then.
“It allows me to change the direction of the wind or control it! Not exactly a heavy hitter, but it comes in handy” judging for the expressions of the other heroes, he’s underselling it a tad.
Ravio leans forward in his chair, almost jumping at the hero, practically itching to get his hands on it “Change the direction of the wind, you say? Must have to use something like this sparingly, if it’s that powerful. Could ruin the world’s fragile climate structure and pressure system with one wrong flick of the wrist, eh?”
Judging from the flush that spreads across the kid’s face, he has done exactly that multiple times. Hopefully he hasn’t done so in a period of time outside his own. Although- that would explain the legend of the Great Tornado Period Link once recalled Zelda talk about. Ravio seems to have solved that mystery, then.
His eyes switch over to Wild, the other member that seemed particularly interested in the mention of magical items. Link also said he was stupidly rich- what could he possibly rent or sell to the hero? He searches his memory for the letters that could give him any help- he once called Wild a pyromaniac in passing. How much of a joke was that?
“And you, Wild, was it? Ah, yes, yes. I’m willing to rent to you one of my more magical items- yes. I’ll even knock down the price for you, as a friend of Link’s!” Ouch. Self-inflicted damage. Ravio ploughs on “How do you like the sound of a fire rod?”
The effect is immediate and vastly entertaining. Twilight, who is next to Wild, leaps forward out of his seat and yells “No!” with a humorous amount of desperation. Wild’s eyes are practically sparkling. Everyone is leaning away, shaking their head at Ravio and agreeing with Twilight, trying to persuade the lorulian against this idea.
“He’s already got enough fire-themed weapons- thank you Ravio” practically tumbles out of Twilight’s mouth. Wild’s eyes seem to sparkle impossibly brighter, accompanied with a dangerous grin “Ah yes! Ravio! Take a look at this!”
Everyone jumps back in alarm. One second Wild is twisting his arm back slightly, fiddling with something strapped to his hip, the next there’s giant glowing blade in his right palm, painting the room in an orange-red.
“HYLIA! Wild! Put it away!” Four yells, as if Wild had just summoned a monster instead of a blade. Ravio’s drawn immediately to it.
“A fire blade!” Ravio is grinning. He should have gotten to know the heroes before he discarded them so easily- they have so many items! “How much to buy?”
Wild ponders this for a moment. Ravio sees his mouth move across numbers, counting. How many blades like these does he have? “800 rupees. And! I want to test out the fire rod.” he says pointedly and concretely, showing an experience with trading in his resolution against haggling.
An absolute bargain! Thank Lolia for inflation! “Deal” Ravio is jumping in his seat. He practically throws eight silver rupees at Wild, who catches them deftly and passes Ravio the fire blade, cooled down. He leans it against the wall, watching it for a moment to check if it will melt through it. “Wonderful doing business with you, Wild!” He says as he swings back to the hero to blast him with a hidden beaming smile.
Although the other heroes definitely look wary of the interaction; they seem glad to have Wild ridden of one more of his fire-based weapons. A quick reminder from Sky ‘you can check out the fire rod later. Do not burn down Legend and Ravio’s house’ and suddenly everyone’s amiable again.
Most questions are directed at Ravio, but nothing too deep. How’s business? (good, Link’s his bests customer, though) what colour is his hair? (black or a very dark purple) what part of Hyrule is he from? ‘I don’t recognise your accent’ (I’m not from Hyrule) What country are you from? (Lorule)
Someone asks a question about Lorule. Ravio replies that Link said it was similar to Hyrule’s Hyrule.
Ravio only recognises his mistake when a moment of confusion passes across the group. He technically shouldn’t know that. Well Shit.
It’s Warriors who it clicks with first- and from the captain’s teasing expression, Ravio wishes it was anyone else. A grin splits his face again, and Ravio is reminded why he initially didn’t like them all very much “You’re who Legend was writing that letter for?! It took him a week! ‘Was trying to write it in secret when everyone was asleep, caught him mumbling to himself when I was on watch!”
Ravio flushes so intensely he’s sure they can see him glowing though his hood, or see the flush on his hands. He’s stumped on how to answer, and feels suddenly violated on his and Link’s behalf.
Speaking of. Behind his chair, causing Ravio to flinch, Link growls out a warning “Warriors”, making his reappearance known.
Warriors turns to Link and his grin falters slightly, a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Ravio does not turn around for a good few seconds, dreading the sight he’ll be met with, before he slowly turns his head silently to look at Link. He’s pointedly glaring at Warriors, not sparing a glance at Ravio, with Hyrule standing awkwardly behind the red-clad hero, sending Ravio an awkward apologetic glance. The flush turns a little more irritated.
Time lets out another one of his tired-dad sighs, an attempt to cool the situation before something out-of-hand happens (again). “Link, Hyrule, are you hungry?” He stands, setting his cooling gaze on Link’s. It is not a question. It is clear it is only directed to the former.
Link grunts reluctantly- if one could do such a thing, it would be Link-, and follows Time into Ravio’s kitchen, leaving Hyrule to awkwardly sidestep around them. Ravio looks up to Hyrule, and he feels… pleading. He wants Hyrule to reassure that everything’s completely fine and normal.
Instead he addresses Warriors, narrowing his gaze, the gentle teen clearly trying to be stern “Warriors, that was unnecessary” He sounds protective. Protective of Link. Is he Link’s new best friend. Was Ravio ever?
Ravio makes a valiant attempt at removing these thoughts. Warriors scowls, “How am I supposed to know what’s to piss him off? He’s been acting so weird since we got to his house- as if he’s hiding something”
Dread pools in Ravio’s stomach. That’s possibly the last thing he wanted to hear. It’s clearly Ravio, that’s making him act off. After a year (or more? Less?) without having to deal with the merchant, perhaps he’s resentful to having to return.
“I guess it’s no surprise” Ravio begins talking, once again, before his mind can catch up and stop his tongue. His voice is defeated and self-depriving, but bitterly certain “He doesn’t mention me to you guys at all- it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he just didn’t want to have to see me”
The heroes are quick to say otherwise. Ravio doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear any of this from any of them. He has the selfish want to hole himself up in his room and wait for them all to leave. He waves his hands “Shush! I wouldn’t be surprised- I barely asked him when I moved in. I don’t doubt the only reason he didn’t complain so much was because he barely came here- I was just house-keeping, not company.”
Hyrule, who had come forward during Ravio’s small rant, overpowers the others’ voices. “You shouldn’t say that!” A perplexed half-hush falls upon them, not used to hearing Hyrule lead a conversation. His voice is laced with hurt and offence and defiance and Ravio dazedly closes his mouth as he locks eyes with the hero. Is it a common trait, amongst the wielders of the Triforce of Courage, to be the only people to be able to accurately look him in the eyes through his hood first try?
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that Legend has the emotional capacity of a moblin- we all do, somewhat.” His weak voice is surprisingly loud in the quiet. It carries across the room, a certainty to his words, despite his apparent lack of practice in being the one to speak up “But Legend typically keeps the things most important to him close to his heart- it was only last week that he shared any details about his Zelda.” Hyrule says this like it’s the most surprising thing. Ravio supposes it is, somewhat. All of them must have a Zelda, all of them would hold some fondness to her. Zelda played a role in Link’s quests, so to not talk about her for however-many months? Ravio will admit that’s another level of stubborn. Or emotionally withdrawn. With Link, it’s likely to be an unhealthy mix of the two.
Ravio begins to think over the information Hyrule is giving, begins to try and connect the dots, before the timid hero once more interrupts his thoughts “So I encourage you not to take him not telling us about you with offence- when it’s more likely to be the opposite”
Hyrule finishes his speech by clamping his mouth up- that’s probably half of a month’s social battery drained from the poor teen- and leans back from where he’d been inching towards Ravio throughout. Ravio’s eyes are blown wide as it finally dawns on him what, exactly, the hero is trying to tell him.
Damnit, Ravio has messed up.