Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Beacon has fallen. Those were the words that Ozpin had hoped he would never, ever have to think until decades, perhaps centuries later. Beacon Academy is supposed to be a safe haven for aspiring hunters and his friends (however little he has) alike.

Beacon was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to keep it safe. But now he’s lying at the bottom of the tower, buried under the rubble of a place he called home, soaking in a pool of his own blood. 

Ozpin coughs, blood splattering on rock and dripping down his chin. His hair, previously a shining silver, is matted and caked in dust, ash, and dried blood. His favorite green turtleneck is ripped and stained, irreparable. He’s not sure where his glasses flew during the fight, but he knows he’ll never be seeing them again. 

His cane lies barely a foot away from his limp hand, having rolled away. He can’t move to pick it up again and he fears it might be buried under the ruins of the school with him. Without his cane, the only thing that would be left of him from all those centuries ago would be his own soul, tattered and broken, shattered into a million pieces and shoved back together again. 

His cane has been with him all this time, a constant reminder of how much he has changed after all this time but also a solid weight to lean on. Its presence and the magic it holds bring him comfort. It’s as much a reminder of his failures as it is his success. He’s not sure if he can go on without it, as selfish as that sounds to him. 

Ozpin chuckles. It catches in his throat and his lungs twist in pain. It turns into an agonizing coughing fit that leaves him exhausted and cold.

Gods, he’s so tired. He’s known the feeling since his very first reincarnation. The feeling of pure exhaustion seeps into his bones, bleeding into his mind and heart. He’s lived for so long, felt and seen so much pain. What he wouldn’t give to feel truly happy and carefree. 

He knows that even if it was offered he wouldn’t take it though. He has responsibilities, people to protect and demons to destroy. He was part of the reason why there was so much pain in the world, and he can’t just stand by as people get hurt because of his mistakes. 

Now if only he could just move, even an inch. If he could get up and save his students like he should be doing… But he can’t force his body to move, can’t spontaneously shrug off his mortal wounds and crippling guilt like an old blanket on his shoulders. This is his burden to carry, his pain to deal with alone, because he couldn’t protect anyone. 

Ozpin doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until a noise catches his attention and he glances up to see what it might be. 

Swimming in his horribly blurred vision is a figure. He can’t quite wrap his brain around what it might be until it comes closer and he recognizes the person kneeling before him. 

“Link,” he rasps, sending him into another round of coughing. More blood stains his teeth and the puddle beneath him grows. Guilt and shame stabs his heart. He regrets that Link is here to see this. 

There’s a sudden weight on his shoulder and Ozpin has to blink several times to see that it’s Link’s hand. His gaze travels up the boy’s arm to finally reach his eyes, and for a moment they just stare at each other. 

There’s so many emotions flashing through Link’s eyes, and Ozpin is sure Link can see things in his own gaze. Mostly, there is sadness. It surrounds them both like a thick fog, comforting and suffocating all at once. 

Ozpin is the first to look away. It takes far too much energy, but he manages to look at his cane. His finger twitches in its direction and he knows Link sees it. 

“M-my cane…” he chokes out. 

The boy reaches out for it hesitantly, picking it up with the utmost care. He holds it out for Ozpin to take, but they both know he doesn’t have the strength to do it. 

“Take it,” he says, managing to swallow down a bloody cough. 

Link’s fingers delicately wrap around the handle and he holds it close to his chest, looking at Ozpin uncertainly. 

The headmaster smiles and hopes it comes across as warm and reassuring. “Find Qrow.” He takes a rattling breath. “He—he will know what t-to do.” 

Something squeezes painfully in his chest and he barely holds in a cry of agony as his entire body trembles. His eyes snap shut and he grits his teeth, breathing as steadily as he can manage through the hot flash of pain. 

It passes, and Ozpin is left somehow more exhausted than before. He knows he doesn’t have much time left. Looking back at Link’s blurry face makes his nauseous, so he shuts his eyes again. 

“I’m s-sorry,” he forces out between labored breaths. “And thank you.” 

As Ozpin begins to drift into darkness, a new sound greets his ears. To his addled and fading mind, it sounds vaguely like music. It’s a very nice tune, yet somehow somber as well. 

Ozpin welcomes the sound, using the last scraps of his strength to smile. 

He falls away to the music of an ocarina, and for a moment he feels at peace. 

Chapter Text

Link knows it wasn’t Oscar’s fault, really. 

The group’s fight with Cinder and the White Fang had taken a lot out of them and resulted in more than a few injuries. Some were more hurt than others, Link being one of them. 

Link had gotten himself hurt trying his best to protect the group from the wrath of Hazel, Mercury, Emerald, and the rest. 

He had taken several hits that were meant for Oscar, although he had taken a fair share of the beating himself. 

After the nightmare scene with Salem, Ozpin had retreated back to the depths of Oscar’s mind and left him utterly exhausted. He could barely keep himself upright long enough to tell Qrow that they had to go to Atlas, so he wasn’t quite coherent enough to notice the state of the others. 

Ruby had dropped to her knees and her entire team had rushed to her side almost immediately, Weiss kneeling right beside her to offer comfort and ask if she was okay. 

Qrow was injured but he had forced himself to push through the aches and pains to make sure his nieces and Oscar/Ozpin were okay. He had crashed soon after arriving at the house where they were staying, but not before gently tucking an unconscious Oscar into bed. 

Link, on the other hand, didn’t have anyone to care for him or any significant responsibility that wasn’t already being taken care of. When he stumbled, the others cast him worried glances but didn’t approach him to ask if he was okay. He would have carried Oscar himself if Blake’s father wasn’t already doing it. So he simply walked along with them, dragging his heavy feet along with him but trying not to draw attention to himself. 

He made it to the house like everybody else and slept in the living room on the floor like the rest of the team. Oscar was given the only bed in the place, and Qrow, Ruby, and Yang were stuffed onto the two sofas without any room to spare. 

Link takes a spot apart from the rest, or at least as apart as he can be with so many people stuffed into such a small space. He doesn’t take any pillows or blankets, letting the others take the comforts that he doesn’t need. He doesn’t lay on the floor but sits up instead, leaning into the corner of the room with his chin pillowed on his chest, arms loose in his lap. He falls asleep quickly. 

He’s woken up the next day to loud voices as Ruby and others argue about what to make for breakfast. Waking up isn’t a pleasant feeling, and he has to suppress several groans as the night before catches up to him. 

He can barely lift his arms and his legs feel like chuchu jelly. If he breathes in too deeply it feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest and his spine locks up in pain if he twists or bends a certain way. 

He sighs lightly, knowing he could just take a potion or eat some of the food from his sheikah slate to get rid of the pain, but his supply is running dangerously low and he has yet to have time to cook new things let alone go looking for the right ingredients. He’d rather save his last items for more life-threatening situations and deal with the pain now, however frustrating it is. 

Slipping out of the living room with as much stealth as he can muster on stumbling feet, he finds the nearest bathroom. 

Seeing his sunken eyes in the mirror is not a pleasant sight. He grimaces and looks away with another sigh. 

Scrolling through his sheikah slate, he finds a roll of bandages and some ointment. He rarely ever has to use bandages, so he’s thankful he still has some and that the slate kept them nice and clean.

Not for the first time he finds himself wondering exactly where things go when he puts them in the slate. It’s too small to house everything he stuffs into it, so there must be some kind of secret behind it. Having had it for so long, he figured he might’ve figured it out by now. Like always, he shrugs off the questions and gets to work. 

He taps a few things on the slate and watches as his shirt disappears to wherever it goes. He’s glad he doesn’t have to take it off himself. Attaching the slate back to his hip, he grits his teeth and lifts his arms.

Link examines himself from every angle his aching body allows him to, grimacing at several large bruises that are angry and turning several shades of red and purple. Some of them overlay his scars and he doesn’t dare touch those ones for fear of triggering unwanted memories. 

His memories of that night are fuzzy and sparse at best, and sometimes he’s glad they are. He remembers the heat of the guardian’s beam, the dwindling strength of the Master Sword as he dug it into the ground to steady himself. He remembers Zelda’s golden hair covered in soot and her worried tone but not the words she said. He remembers blood dripping from his fingers but not the wound itself. He remembers passing by a silent princess as Zelda tried her best to carry Link to the Shrine of Resurrection. 

Without his memories, his scars are all he has left of that fateful day. That, and his knight instincts, which flare up every now and then when he runs into something that used to be familiar. He remembers his scars lighting up in pain the first time he saw a guardian on the Great Plateau. Only much later, when he was running around trying to scrape up his broken memories, did he discover why. 

Link sighs, shaking his head to rid himself of his spiraling thoughts, and gets back to the task at hand. 

He reaches for the ointment. Sidon had gifted it to him after he had successfully killed the lynel up at Shatterback Point. He had come back covered in bruises, cuts, ash, and lightning branches. Sidon had taken one look at him and shoved a handful of ointment containers into his arms, making him promise to look after himself better. 

Link smiled at the memory. He had used the ointment sparingly, trying to make the gift last as long as possible. He still has three containers left. 

He dabs the ointment on the worst of the bruises, trying to be gentle. He accidentally prods at a particularly dark spot and hisses, recoiling slightly. He’s extra careful not to do it again. 

Soon enough, he’s gotten everywhere he’s able to reach without hurting himself more and reaches for the bandages. 

He’s extremely careful as he wraps the bandages all around his torso. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t notice the door handle turning until somebody is already opening the door. 

It’s Oscar, he sees in the mirror, having frozen in the middle of wrapping himself up, startled. 

The kid rubs his eyes tiredly and doesn’t seem to notice Link until he glances up. Oscar’s eyes widen comically and he takes a step back, also startled.

Link is glad that the kid is up and moving, but this is exactly the kind of situation he had been trying to avoid for literal centuries. He should’ve locked the door. 

Link’s ear twitches at Oscar’s gasp and he turns his head to get a better look at the kid behind him. 

He’s staring, of course. Oscar is staring in awe and dawning horror at Link’s scarred and broken body. He’s sure that Oscar and the others have noticed the scars across his face and arms, but those are relatively small. He knows the one on his left side, the one that runs down his arm and up to his neck, spreading like infectious malice across his skin—this is the scar that he didn’t want anyone to see, especially not Ozpin. 

He wonders if Ozpin is in there somewhere, watching with the same level of horror that Oscar is. He wonders just what emotions are racing through that shared brain of theirs. 

“Link…?” Oscar’s voice is so small, barely a whisper and so, so terrified. 

Link doesn’t realize he’s staring off into space until he hears that voice and glances back at Oscar, who stares back with wide eyes. He’s not sure why Oscar is so terrified. Perhaps its shock, or maybe it’s some of Ozpin’s own feelings leaking through.

Link looks away, shame churning in his gut. His shoulders droop as he sighs. He’s surprised that his hands remain steady as he picks back up with wrapping his wounds. 

He hears Oscar take a shaky breath behind him and shut the bathroom door. He’s glad that at least the others won’t see him like this. The kid hops onto the closed toilet seat, waiting patiently and watching him like a hawk with a slight grimace. 

Link resolutely ignores him as he finishes looping the bandages over his shoulders and tying it off. An awkward and tense silence settles between them, both waiting for the other to do something. He reaches for the slate and packs away the remaining bandages and ointment, returning his shirt to his grateful shoulders. He already feels better, although the silence is still stifling. 

He returns the slate to his hip, leaving him with his task finished and nothing left to distract himself with. He stares at his feet and fiddles with the hem of his tunic, keeping Oscar in the corner of his vision. 

“…Link,” Oscar starts quietly, hesitantly. Link almost flinches, but holds himself back only because he knows it would make this conversation much worse if they saw that. “…Where did you get your scars from?”

He could just refuse to answer, Link thinks distantly. He could just ignore Oscar and Ozpin and keep his secrets to himself. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them, and they deserve an explanation. 

‘Guardian ,’ he signs slowly. 

Oscar’s expression morphs into one of confusion. He’s not sure if Oscar can understand sign, but he knows Ozpin can and wonders if he will translate for Oscar or not. 

Link reaches for the slate, pulling up a picture of a guardian from the compendium. It’s a terrifying close-up of an active guardian mid-fire. He had been both lucky and unfortunate enough to capture the image before he was blasted to the ground and swarmed by two more. He shivers slightly at the memory. He shows it to Oscar, looking down at the floor instead of his face. 

Once he’s sure Oscar has gotten a good look (judging from the gasp he gives), he pulls the slate back to himself, holding it in limp arms and staring with unseeing eyes. He clips it back to his hip before he spirals too far. 

“What… what happened?” Oscar asks, voice even lower than a whisper now. 

‘…They were made to protect us ,’ he starts, remembering Impa’s stories and Kass’s songs. He has his own memory of an argument between Zelda and her father, the king, and faintly remembers the guardian in the distance she had been so fascinated by. He pushes the memory away, not wanting to think about it. 

‘…They were turned against us. ’ He briefly debates whether he should continue or not, but decides that they deserve more than a few vague sentences. One simple truth is far more precious than the mountain of secrets he carries. 

‘… I was meant to protect. But the guardians were strong and there were many… I failed. ’

‘I should have died, but I was saved. ’ He smiles, but it’s filled with so much sadness and guilt he’s not sure it counts as a smile anymore.

‘I woke up with these. ’ He gestures to his scars, though they’re covered by the bandages now. ‘ I lost all my memories, ’ he admits. ‘Most of them are still lost. ’

There’s so much more he wants to say, to get off his chest. But he stops himself before he can continue, because he knows if he doesn’t stop now he never will, and Oscar and Ozpin have enough to deal with already. 

“…I’m so sorry,” Oscar says eventually. Link isn’t sure if those are his own words, Ozpin’s, or both. 

He shrugs, brushing off the concerned expression that he catches a glimpse of. He’s been through worse, but neither of them would know that. 

Oscar sighs and steels himself. “Nora and Ren said they were making pancakes if you want some.” He hops off the toilet and rests a hand on the door handle, looking at Link expectantly. 

Link smiles slightly and joins him. 

Chapter Text

His footsteps echo throughout the cavern, the sound deafening to his ears compared to the dead silence of the place. The belt holding the Master Sword to his back is clutched tightly in his hands. He looks all around but finds nothing except tightly pressing walls and darkness. 

Normally Navi would be by his side. She would make idle conversation or tease him now and then, keeping his mind off of his surroundings. But Navi isn’t here now. 

He’s all alone.

Farther down the endless tunnel, he spies something resembling a door in the distance. A smile spreads across his face. He found the door! Now he can finally get out of this terrible place. 

Link runs for the door, going as fast as his longer teenage legs will take him. 

But something grabs his ankle as he runs. He trips, his face cracking against the cold, relentless stone below. He blearily looks up, shaking away the sudden dizziness. He looks back to see what he tripped over and—

A long, pale hand reaches out of the ground, its crooked black fingernails grasping for his tunic and raking down his back. With a terrified yelp, he’s dragged backwards. 

Link tries to shake it off, roll over, or at least do something. He flails wildly, trying to escape. He manages to get a knee under him and push himself up, the hand still firmly gripping his tunic. 

He reaches for the sword on his back, but his arm is stopped halfway there. He freezes, staring in horror as another hand grasps his arm, yanking it down. 

Then there’s another arm that grabs for his leg, and then another, and another. Link can’t move, trapped by the bizarre and freakish things that just won’t let go—

He panics, writhing in every direction but not getting anywhere. His breaths come in shaky inhales and rushed exhales, his vision going dark and fuzzy from a lack of air. He can’t get out, they won’t let him go, he needs to get out —

One of the hands grasps his hair, tugging his head back and ripping out a few strands in the process. He looks up and is utterly horrified by what he sees. 

A monster like no other trudges towards him with no legs. Its slimy, grotesque body reminds him of the redeads in the graveyards, how their flesh is pale and almost melting. Its arms are small and with no hands or fingers to speak of, only sickle-like claws that scrape along the ground as it moves. This monster seems to be made of decaying flesh, with an elongated head and bottomless pits for eyes. It leaves a trail of blood and ooze as it squelches its way forward. 

Link’s struggling only increases in desperation. Whatever that thing is, he needs to get away from it. He can’t stare into those dark eyes any longer. 

The hands don’t budge and Link feels a wave of repulsion as the smell of rotting corpses and stale blood reaches him. He almost throws up, but holds it back only because he knows it wouldn’t help him at all.

The thing comes to a stop right in front of him. Its mouth gapes wide, wide enough to swallow Link whole. 

He trembles in terror, his struggling having stopped completely. Tears fall freely from his eyes as he stares into that gaping mouth. 

Inside the abyss, he sees two glowing yellow orbs. They twist around each other, and out of the creature’s mouth climbs a familiar figure. 

“Aww, boo-hoo. Why the sad face?” Skull Kid asks, his head turning all the way around as those unblinking eyes stare into Link’s very soul. It’s as if he’s smiling beneath the mask. 

“You didn’t think it was over, did you?” 

Skull Kid laughs, reaching out a hand to grasp Link’s chin, forcing him to lean in close. 

“You can never get rid of me, kid.” 

Link wakes up with a strangled scream, quickly scrambling away from a terror long gone. He’s breathing too fast and he’s not quite sure where he is. It’s dark and he can’t see —

His back hits a wall and he slides down. He brings his knees to his chest and shields his head with his arms, bringing his shoulders closer to his center. He makes himself as small as possible.

He shakes with silent sobs, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears streaming freely down his cheeks. 

The Dead Hand can’t be here, he tells himself desperately. Skull Kid can’t be here, he thinks with equal amounts of panic. They can’t be. 

But he still remembers the smell. It burns his nose even now. Bile rises in his throat. He can’t breathe —

Something touches his arm and he flinches violently . His hyperventilating somehow gets worse and his heart races. His hands clutch at his hair so hard he thinks vaguely that he might end up tearing some of it out, just like when—

Past the rushing of blood and static in his ears, he distantly hears someone calling out. He roughly shakes his head, tuning it out. He doesn’t want to hear Skull Kid mocking him as he fails over and over and over—

The voice is loud and insistent. He thinks he hears his name in there somewhere and his ears twitch. Skull Kid had never called him by name, had never bothered to learn it anyway. 

Link tries to quiet his ragged breathing long enough to make out what they’re saying. Hope flares in his chest that maybe someone has come to rescue him. 

“…ink…Link! Can…ear me? You ne…calm down.” The voice sounds panicked, maybe even afraid. It worries Link, so he does what the voice says and tries to calm down.

It’s a lot harder than he thinks it is to actually calm down though. After a while, his breathing gets a little easier but he still feels just about ready to pass out. The tears have slowed way down, but he still keeps his eyes shut. The trembling slows too, until its every few seconds instead of constant. 

“Link?” 

Link recognizes the voice. It’s Oscar! It’s the kid he’s been travelling with for weeks. It’s not Skull Kid or the dead hand or anything else, just Oscar. 

A surge of relief flows through him. He crashes. His entire body relaxes, loosening slightly from the tight ball he had pressed himself into. The grip on his hair loosens as well and he breathes easier than before. He trembles, but now for an entirely different reason. 

“Are you with us?” Oscar asks from somewhere in front of him, although he sounds strangely calm. Distantly, Link thinks this must be Ozpin talking. 

Link nods, his face still hidden behind his knees and arms. 

“Okay, that’s good. Do you know where you are?” 

Link hesitates. He’s been in illusions before and knows how convincing they can be. He must hesitate for too long because Oscar-Ozpin speaks again.

“You’re in a cozy little house in Mistral. This is the living room, and you are currently sitting near the fireplace. It’s dark outside right now, but the lamp is turned on. You have been staying here for about two days now.”

Link relaxes the more Ozpin talks. His hands go from resting on his head to his knees and he slumps over slightly into a more comfortable position. His breathing mostly evens out so he can actually get enough air again. 

Feeling much better, Link dares to open an eye and peek over his knees to glance at his surroundings. It’s blurry at first, but eventually he blinks the dried tears from his eye and spies Oscar. 

He’s kneeling in front of Link, close enough to reach out to him but also far enough away to not freak him out. He looks sympathetic and slightly worried, smiling at him warmly. 

When no hands spring from the ground to grab him and no glowing eyes appear, Link opens his other eye, blinking away gunk to look at Oscar-Ozpin properly. He keeps his chin resting on his legs behind his knees, shielding his mouth and nose from view. It’s a childish response to fear that he’s ashamed of, some part of him still believing that if he makes himself small and unassuming enough then the monster won’t see him, but it keeps his nerves from spiking so he doesn’t stop.

‘Where are others? ’ he signs with shaking hands, noticing that nobody else is in the room despite there being several blankets and pillows scattered around the floor still. 

“Miss Rose and Mister Ren led everyone either outside or to the bedroom. They did not wish to crowd you or make you more upset.” Ozpin’s smile is constant and unwavering, but Link can see the worry in his eyes. 

Link hugs his knees a little tighter, feeling guilty for interrupting everyone’s sleep.

“I assure you, they don’t mind a lack of sleep if it means helping someone in need.” 

A silence stretches between them as Link considers his words. He knows there’s at least some truth to the statement, but they all desperately need sleep after the trials they’ve been through. 

“Would you mind if I touched you?” 

Link’s ears twitch, somewhat startled by the question. He considers the outstretched hand that Ozpin is offering and the gentle smile that comes with it. He wants the comfort so, so badly, but this life has left him without any kind of physical comfort from another person in so long that he fears he might react badly. He can cuddle up to dogs and horses all he wants, but suddenly being faced with another person is daunting. 

Very, very hesitantly, he nods. 

Ozpin takes the invitation, shuffling over to him slowly. He watches Link for any sign that he’s uncomfortable before getting near him, and when Link doesn’t pull away he leans against the same wall and wraps an arm around Link’s shoulders. 

He’s tense at first, not exactly knowing what to do, but then Ozpin reaches for his hair, carding a hand gently through his long blond hair. Link hates to admit that he loves the feeling so much he shivers and shuts his eyes, relaxing into the hold. 

It barely takes a few minutes before Link has melted completely. Oscar-Ozpin’s hand is incredibly gentle as it plays with individual strands of his hair, sometimes tracing vague designs or scratching his nails along Link’s scalp. He feels like a cat as he leans in for more. 

Ozpin guides Link’s head down to his shoulder and he doesn’t resist. There’s a moment during Link’s haze of warmth and fuzzy thoughts where the petting stops. He’s so out of it that he doesn’t realize Ozpin has retreated back to wherever he goes, leaving a flustered Oscar behind. He lets out a soft noise of complaint, pressing his face into their shoulder insistently. 

The petting starts again, and Link practically purrs as he falls into a peaceful sleep. 

Chapter Text

Since Link first found out about Salem, he had connected the dots and figured that Ozpin’s relationship with Salem had to be something similar to Zelda and Ganon. 

They are all opposing forces of good and evil, one person trying to destroy the world and the other trying their best to save it. They all knew of the toll that the gods’ power takes and the pain it causes. 

But from this conclusion came a question that Link had yet to shake even after spending weeks with Oscar and the others. 

There’s always three; a vessel of Wisdom, Power, and Courage, a leader, a destroyer, and a protector. So, if Ozpin is Wisdom and Salem is Power, then where is Courage? 

At first, Link thought it was Qrow. Ruby and Yang’s uncle spends much of his time with Oscar and has a strong connection to Ozpin, but it’s clear that he’s never been reincarnated and is only part of the group because of personal ties and a desire not to let the world die. 

Other than Qrow, who seems to be more of a temporary guardian, Ozpin doesn’t seem to have anyone to protect him throughout his reincarnations. It’s puzzling to Link, and one of the major reasons why he’s so protective of Oscar and Ozpin both.

This is exactly the reason why he finds himself staring down a blade pointed at his throat to the glowing black and red eyes of the person wielding it. This is the first time he’s seen Salem in person besides the illusion that Emerald had showed them. She’s uncomfortably similar to the malice that once spread throughout Hyrule Castle and the surrounding areas. She has an angry scowl on her face as she stares him down, looking down her nose like he’s a petulant child. 

Link is covered in scratches and drying blood, breathing in and out shakily. The Master Sword is steady in his hands, glowing slightly as it reacts to her dark magic, but his shoulders shake with the effort of holding himself up. One eye is closed, blood flowing down from his forehead over his eyelid and old scars. He lost sight of the others a while ago, somewhere among the dark, roiling fields of tar and death. 

Behind him, though, is Oscar. He’s in just as bad shape as Link. He’s collapsed on the ground, one hand pressed into his bleeding side, trembling slightly in both fear and exhaustion. His eyes are trained on Salem, wide and terrified. He’s far too young. 

It reminds him of a time long ago, buried in the scraps of memories he’s managed to scrounge up. He had rescued Zelda from the Yiga. She had been running but tripped and fell. They had pounced, intent on killing her. Link had intervened, knocking them away. He’s in a similar position now, raising a sword between the person he cares about and their attacker. He didn’t let the Yiga reach her then and he won’t let Salem reach him now. 

This battle has been waging for centuries. Ozpin and Salem, two opposing forces of good and evil. But as these two powerful beings fight, the world and its people suffer. It’s a wonder Ozpin has kept his humanity for this long, but he has been without a protector for long enough.

Link won’t let him die to Salem’s hands again. 

His grip on the sword tightens and it hums with power in kind. 

Blades clash, a nasty battle that shakes the earth and rings out for miles. 

He won’t let Ozpin be taken from him again. 

—

When the battle is over, Salem and her allies have retreated for now. As soon as he’s sure they’re gone, Link collapses. 

The Master Sword digs into the ground and he can barely manage to hold on to keep from completely keeling over. It takes all the energy he has just to keep breathing, shoulders heaving with the effort of drawing in air, leaning heavily on the sword. 

He hears footsteps, people calling out for him worriedly. He lifts his heavy head and sees Oscar kneeling in front of him, eyes glowing gold. He seems concerned, scared even, which is odd for Ozpin.

“Why did you do that?” he whispers, furrowing his eyebrows in real confusion. 

Link smiles sadly. Ozpin has been doing this for so long on his own, and now when someone finally stands up for him, he’s surprised…

He can’t raise his hands to sign, so instead he opens his mouth and speaks for the first time in over 100 years. 

“Family… protects family,” he rasps between labored breaths. 

Ozpin’s eyes widen and he gapes, pure shock written all across his features. It’s unusual for Ozpin to be so expressive, but he’s glad for it. 

Ozpin has been fighting alone for so long. Ozpin is Wisdom, but he has been forced to be Courage all this time as well. He’s seen Zelda get put into these kinds of situations before, and it always hurts. He can’t imagine how badly Ozpin has been hurting after carrying so much responsibility. Link is supposed to be Courage, so now Ozpin can finally start to unload all those burdens. 

He’ll explain all of this to Ozpin someday, but for now he simply smiles. 

Ozpin’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, looking at him in thinly veiled awe. 

They will be okay. 

Link will make sure of it. 

Chapter Text

“Jinn, what are Ozpin and Link hiding?”

With those simple words, their worlds shatter. 

Jinn reveals everything . 

She starts by telling them about Ozpin, and Link admits he was curious as well. His history with Salem is just as bad as he thought it would be. 

And then she shows them Link’s story.

Link freezes up, panicking internally as his entire history is laid bare. 

She tells them of the three gods who came to Hyrule, each representing a different piece of the Triforce they created later: Power, Wisdom, and Courage.

She tells them of his first life as a young Hylian boy who just happened to save a young princess and thus was gifted with the Triforce of Courage just as Zelda with Wisdom and Ganon with Power.

She tells them of his next lives, reincarnating again and again for the sole purpose of defeating evil, which usually took the form of Ganon in various ways. 

She tells them of his current life as the Hero of the Wild, how he had failed to strike the Calamity down and failed to protect the princess. He sees himself lying in Hyrule field, surrounded by guardians and heavily injured, the Master Sword cracked and rusted in his shaking hands. He sees Zelda putting his broken body in the Shrine of Resurrection and practically feels the cold blue glow as it surrounds him. 

She tells them of his awakening 100 years later without any memories and only a ghost of the past to guide him. 

She tells them of his journey, his recovering of the Master Sword, his memories, and eventually the princess herself. 

She tells them of his discontent, his yearning for something more. 

She tells them of his jump between worlds, how Hyrule isn’t another continent on the other side of the world but another world on the other side of the universe. 

She tells them of his connection to Ozpin, and how he feels it is his duty to protect the man as a symbol of Wisdom and one of the few people who could truly understand the toll such a long life takes. 

And then Jinn is gone, returned to the relic. Link and Oz are left in the cold. 

The group is silent for a painfully long moment. Link stands still as a statue in the snow, staring at his own feet with an almost stricken look. Oz is collapsed on his knees in the snow, tears streaming down his face with terror and shame in his expression. He doesn’t dare look up to see the looks on anyone else’s faces.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Yang’s voice shatters the silence, her tone low and dangerous, on the edge of furious. 

“I…” Ozpin seems lost for words, sounding much smaller than he usually makes himself out to be. 

“Answer me!” Yang snarls, stomping towards oz with rage burning in her red eyes. 

Link doesn’t think. He just reacts. 

In the blink of an eye, he’s put himself between them, crouching defensively with a hand hovering towards his shield, not the sword. A warning, not an invitation for a fight. 

He hears Oz gasp slightly behind him and Yang takes a surprised step back. He’s sure she can plainly see the determination in his own eyes. She clenches her fists and snarls at him, her anger redirected now that he blocks her path. 

“Yang…” Ruby calls helplessly, looking on the verge of tears herself. She looks like she wants to do something but she’s not sure what to do. After what she just did, he’s not sure if she deserves pity. 

“Why, Oz?” Qrow asks suddenly, staring down at the snow with anger and pain in his eyes. 

“I…” Oz starts again, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry, Qrow.”

Qrow shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell us that Salem couldn’t be defeated?” 

Link eyes Yang, and when she doesn’t immediately attack, he straightens and begins to sign. 

‘Scared ,’ he signs. 

Qrow looks up at the movement and Link repeats it for him to see. He knows that Qrow can understand sign language and keeps going. 

‘He is scared you will abandon him, ’ he signs, staring Qrow in the eye as if willing him to understand. 

Qrow’s eyebrow twitches and he looks to Oz. “Is that true, Oz?”

Oz looks away, ashamed. “Yes, it is,” he whispers. 

‘Salem can be defeated. ’

Qrow jolts, surprised. “How would you know that?” he sneers. Even Oz looks surprised. 

‘Only the gods are immortal, and even some gods can die. ’ A dark look passes over him. ‘I have fought much worse than her before. ’

Qrow looks away, bitter. 

“Uncle Qrow?” Ruby asks, hesitant and confused. 

He waves a hand in her direction, reaching for his flask. 

Helplessly, Ruby turns to Link. But he hasn’t yet forgiven her for what she’s done, so he doesn’t answer her questioning stare. 

“We’re leaving,” Qrow announces suddenly, trudging through the snow with the flask still in hand. 

“What about them?” Yang asks roughly, pointing over her shoulder towards Link and Oz. 

“We’re not leaving two kids out in the snow to freeze to death.” Never mind the fact that they all know Link and Oscar can take care of themselves. It’s also telling that Qrow still considers Link a kid despite knowing he’s several dozens of centuries old but completely excludes Oz from the conversation. 

The group casts one last glance at the two of them before promptly following after Qrow. Only Ruby stays behind, fear and guilt and shame swirling in her eyes. But she doesn’t say anything, just waits until Link lifts Oscar-Ozpin onto his back and starts walking as well.