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"You need to make friends".
Link didn't want to hear the words, especially not from Zelda, and yet here they were, just as uncomfortable as he had feared.
"I'm fine", Link signed, "I have you".
Zelda reached out and gently enclosed his hand in her own.
"You'll always have me, but you need to make more connections than me alone. You've been getting restless my love, I've seen it. The fidgeting and shuffling, the listless drifting in the woods while I'm teaching. People notice it, Link".
He averted his eyes, and she pressed her head against his cheek.
“I know you’ve spent more time in the wild than not, but you need human connection”
“I don’t...understand people” he signed. “Unless I’m helping them, I don’t know what to do near them. I feel awkward and wrong”.
“I know, but it takes time and practice, that’s all. Just think of it like a training regimen”. She stood and collected her pack, her book with the little ribbon, and most importantly her hat with the big circular brim.
“I have to get to school, the children will be arriving shortly. You’ll do great Link, I know you can”.
As they embraced his hand automatically moved to her belly; protective of the budding life within. As he watched her leave, Link realized he was grinding his teeth. He still felt nervous to let her go, and especially now a part of him worried that something would happen to keep her from coming back. He unclenched his jaw, reminding himself that she was more than capable of handling the mundanities of everyday life, and that primeval forces don’t rear their head every day. With a sigh he pulled on a pair of beige trousers, slid on his big brown boots, and pulled on his favorite blue lobster-print shirt. As he gathered his blonde hair and wrested it into a band, he found himself lost in thought. Zelda was right. He felt a deep love for her, and for their home. Other than that, he felt strange among other people. They spoke freely to each other, a habit he had apparently abandoned before his death and persisted even now. Other people smiled and played, or worked; they busied themselves with each other's company in ways that felt alien to him. A promise is a promise however. The Hero of the Wilds checked his reflection, decided that he was presentable, and strode to the door. He had felled more monsters than he could count, saved more lives than he knew. Making a single friend surely couldn’t be as hard as he feared.
On the first day, Link approached Ivee. She was always kind and smiling, and seemed safe. She waved at his approach, but after several sputtering attempts at conversation she seemed to feel uncomfortable and greeted another passerby, hawking some new discount. Link felt his color rise in his cheeks as he realized that her friendliness was the professional variety.
On the second day, Link wended his way to town, and wandered to the Kochi Dye Shop. He and Sayge had worked together on many occasions, Link recalled the joy in the man’s eyes as he beheld new glider pattern inspirations. As Link attempted to engage the man, he quickly realized something; the man had a passion for nothing outside of his work. Disappointment welled up inside Link as he came to a realization. We have no common ground to discuss.
On the dawn of the third day, a weariness had already settled deep into Link, tensing his muscles and holding tight his jaw. After a short, failed conversation with Manny, Link found himself lounging atop the roof of Cece’s shop, eyes closed and warmed by the sun. Despite the relaxing setting, he could not set his mind to ease, and soon he found himself moving again.
The Hero of the Wilds did not make a single friend that day. It’s not that he repelled people, the villagers of Hateno were all amiable enough. They smiled as he approached, genuinely happy to see him. But he lingered, and they would ask after his health, the princess. His replies came short and stilted. Every interaction ended the same; with Link making a hasty excuse to leave the conversation having made no ground. He was clenching his jaw again. Ivee was sweeping, Prima wanted alone time, and Manny was...well, Manny. By midday, Link was trudging back across the bridge to his house, emotionally drained and utterly demoralized.
Is there...something wrong with me?
The thought was a familiar one, like an uninvited houseguest that shows up so often that their company becomes expected and their absence a surprise. Link could climb mountains, dive through the atmosphere at speeds that would terrify others. Why then, couldn’t he just talk to people like a normal person? Conversation came easy enough with Sidon, but he was busy with his new responsibilities as King. Tulin was easy, the small Rito would speak enough for both of them and seemed happy just to have Link around. Riju was a delight to share tea with, and Yunobo surely enjoyed Link being around. But therein was the problem; the only people Link seemed to be able to understand were all people who shared a single connecting factor:
They were not here.
The sound of his footsteps on the wooden bridge gave way to the soft pattering of grass underfoot as he approached his home. He supposed there was another connecting factor between his few friends, and Zelda too. They were all people who shouldered great responsibilities, people who had stood tall in the face of their own deaths. Surely he must be able to relate to normal people, who had normal childhoods and happy lives, and...
He sighed and sank to the ground, his back against the great tree behind the house. He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the familiar touch of the sun against his face, the feeling of grass between his fingers, the gentle ripple of the pond. Here, he felt normal. Quietly becoming one with the environment, the wind caress—
CAW
The wind caressing his—
CAW, CAW. CAW CAW!
Link opened one eye with a frown, looking for the offending speaker. A fluffy black crow was perched on a branch staring him down and skittering back and forth. Link thought the movement looked rather like a swordsman staying light on his feet, looking for an opening. A small smile slid onto his lips, and he spoke.
“Hey there little guy, what’s with the ruckus?”
His voice was, as usual, a rasped croak. The crow stopped hopping on the branch to pass an inquisitive look at Link, its black eyes discerning. It spread its wings, making itself look larger and more threatening. Link’s frown returned.
“So what, even you don’t want me around?” he demanded.
In response, the crow cawed and dropped from the branch, gracefully gliding on the breeze before flapping their great wings to circle the tree. A constant barrage of angry caws cascading from its open beak. Link sighed, but closed his eyes again, trying to ignore the cacophony. Ca-caw-phony. He giggled. Silly bird, all worked up over nothing, at least he could—
The crow dove, a blur of black feathers and fury. Its outstretched talons raked across Link’s arm, leaving long gashes. With a cry of pain Link cradled his arm, and quickly pulled off his shirt to wrap the wound with it. The crow’s voice still echoed through the hills, as it continued to circle the tree aggressively. Link got to his feet and ran toward the house. The pain searing his arm was nothing new, but the absolute rejection he felt? He bit his lip angrily as hot tears stained his cheeks. He watched the crow land back on the tree to yell at him some more.
“Fine! Have my stupid tree. Fuck you!” he yelled. The crow’s response was equally eloquent.
Link glanced at his favorite shirt, red and dripping with blood. He growled in frustration and kicked the water trough before walking back inside, defeated.
Zelda arrived to find Link sitting on their wooden floor, his head hung. She sighted the bloody shirt with a cry of alarm, setting down her bag and rushing to his side.
“Link, what happened?”
His response was mumbled and half-hearted. Zelda gently took his arm and unwrapped the makeshift bandage, Link wincing as the dried blood peeled off with the shirt, reopening the clotted wound.
“Link”, Zelda said in a carefully measured voice, “you are going to tell me what happened”.
Link tried to sign a response, but only managed to suck air between clenched teeth as he moved his arm.
“I still haven’t made any friends,” he said, finally.
“And?”
“I might’ve made an enemy of a crow” he admitted, shame coloring his face.
Zelda wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him close.
“Link, my love. You cannot let yourself be like this. You understand? I, no, we need you. Sitting here alone and injured...gods Link, what if you get an infection? What if the baby was here already? I know you’re hurting, and I want so badly to help you, but you cannot fall to pieces once our child is here”.
She felt his shuddering before she heard the sad little gasps that escaped his lips. She kissed his head and just held him while he cried. A raw, pained thing.
“You can talk to me,This isn’t just about the crow,” she said softly, “is it? Whenever you’re ready”.
“I don’t know who I am anymore” he croaked, voice thick with emotion. “I’m the Hero of the Wilds, the Chosen Knight of the Princess. I’m the man who d-died, and came back”.
He held onto her, fist clenching into her blouse.
“But that doesn’t mean anything anymore. There’s no evil left to fight, no more bokoblins, no more Guardians. I have a home, not just dirt and cold and fear. There’s nothing left of me”.
His voice dropped low as he pressed his face into her.
“I don’t know how to live like this”.
“I know,” Zelda murmured, “I know. It’s why I wanted you to have a friend. I can see that this was more than I realized. I’m so sorry Link. We can navigate this together, I’m always with you”.
She felt him nodding.
“Can I take a look at your arm?” she asked.
More nodding.
She pulled his arm up, inspecting it more closely. It wasn’t as deep as she feared, but would still need to be sewn shut. She frowned.
“Did you...rub dirt in this?”
“I...yes.”
“Why in Hylia’s name did you rub dirt into an open wound?”
He was quiet for a long moment.
“Link...”. Zelda’s voice had tinged with irritation.
“To help it heal?”
Zelda counted to ten in her head, controlling her breathing with long deep inhales.
“A reminder, my love, that dirt is, if you will, dirty, and wounds should be cleaned”.
“Sorry, old habit” he mumbled.
She sighed.
“Come on, let’s wash this and get you stitched up, you’ll be ok”.
“Is it beyond repair?”
“No, you got lucky, it’s not too...”
She realized he had turned his head to look at the bloody shirt.
“...deep. Oh. I’m not sure, it looks pretty stained. We can bring it to Sayge and see if there’s a way he can get the color out, but it was already pretty beat up before this”.
He sighed, the sound like dead leaves fluttering across dry wood.
“It means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Why is that?”
“It was a gift. The people of Lurelin gave it to me”.
Zelda nodded, not for the first time considering the particular, familiar color. So similar to Champion’s Blue. “I see. Does it remind you of their gratitude?”
“Of what I could do for them”, he said.
“You’re more than your ‘purpose’, you know” she said.
“I know. But it’s hard to let go of. I still jump at shadows, I still tense up when the moon rises”.
He pulled away from her, wiping his nose with, thankfully, his uninjured arm.
“Being the Hero feels like all I’ve known. Even the years we spent together after the Calamity, before the Demon King...as soon as he woke up and took you from me it was like it never happened. Like a pleasant dream that, once you wake, quickly fades from memory. A figment. Something I hoped I could have, but didn’t believe in”.
He reached out and took her hand.
“I’m terrified that, like the goddesses of old, tragedy comes in threes and there’s just one more thing waiting in the wings to take us away from each other. I feel like I can’t settle down, because I don’t really believe that this peace is real”.
Zelda was silent for a long moment. It wasn’t often that Link truly opened up like this. She felt the weight of his words; her own trauma managed, but not healed. A scar on her heart and soul.
“My love, I understand. I do. We will weather this, together. With every day, you will heal. Even if only a little. And someday you will be whole again, I promise you that. You are not broken. You are a tower that was knocked down by a storm, and little by little you are being rebuilt. It’s ok that you aren’t ok right now”.
He nodded, saying nothing in the hope that the silence would allow her words to pierce into and mend him as surely as her needle shortly would. In that silence, his hand eventually found its way to hers, their fingers intertwining.
“I’ll try again tomorrow”, he said.
Zelda smiled, a warding light.
“I know you’ll get there”
What Zelda did not know is that he wasn’t talking about the villagers. Link, left to his own devices, had wandered for several days, considering his new adversary until he finally found himself lying flat on his belly in the grass. The crow was up there, somewhere. Link narrowed his eyes, scanning the branches. He’d been lying here, motionless, for close to an hour. He knew that if Zelda was here she would ask him what he was doing. He was glad that she wasn’t here, because he didn’t rightly know the answer to that question.
What was he doing here? Was this some form of petty revenge? His injured arm, sewn and bound, was held close to his body. What was his plan here? Was he really going to—
A rustling of wings, a slight pressure on his back. Link bit his cheek to suppress the gasp of surprise that started to tumble from his lips. He felt the pressure move in short, bobbing little steps. No, it wasn’t the crow. The crow? Just on top of him like this? No, surely it couldn’t be, that would be far too silly.
A small feathered head popped into Link’s peripheral view, twisting and turning slightly, observing him. Their eyes met, unblinking, sizing each other up. As his lungs began to burn, Link realized that he’d stopped breathing. There was a curiosity, a keenness to those small eyes.
A familiarity?
The head moved out of view, and Link felt the little feet roving over his back. Felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was...nice? Company that wouldn’t ask anything of him, that didn’t have questions and expectations. Maybe this could work—
A tugging sensation, quick and sharp. Link’s hair fell around his face and he felt the crow push against him, saw it fly past, a small blue object in its beak.
Huh?
The crow landed in the tree, hopping from one branch to another.
Link sat up, pushed his hair out of his face. Realization struck him; he reached to the back of his head, and found an absence.
HUH?
The crow! It took his hairband. He let loose an inarticulate yell, hopped onto his feet with unthinking grace, and dashed toward the big tree. Forgetting his wound he leaped, getting a foot on the trunk and pushing off and up, grabbing a branch and swinging onto it. He felt the stitches in his arm pull tight, biting into him, and he grit his teeth and heaved, ascending the tree. Onward and upward, he climbed until finally he saw his adversary. Charcoal down, eyes of ink, a beak as sharp as steel. Link bared his teeth, and then hesitated. The crow was cawing frantically, once more trying to make itself look bigger. It was standing in a nest, and Link saw his hairband nestled among several eggs.
Eggs?
“You’re just protecting...you’re just like me” he whispered in awe.
The crow pecked him right on the forehead.
Link was so surprised that he flinched, lost his grip, and tumbled roughly down the branches of the tree like a ragdoll until he landed hard on his back in the grass. A slow, rasping breath the only sign of life.His vision doubled and danced, and his head felt like it was split by an axe. He laid there like that until the sun was low in the sky, and he heard Zelda’s footsteps resounding on the wooden bridge. He heard her approach, saw her shadow pass overhead, and felt her sit next to him.
“No luck today?” she asked.
Link groaned in response.
“That bad huh? Do you want to go inside? I can make you a nice hot stew, and...”
He stole a glance at her, watched her examine the detritus around him: bits of broken branches and a slight indent in the ground. She looked up the tree, alarm blossoming over her features.
“Did you fall out of the tree? Oh goddess, are you ok?”
He slowly raised an arm and gave her a thumbs up. She rummaged through the bag slung across her chest.
“I bought something for you today, and I’m doubly glad for it. Ugh where is it where is it...ah!”.
She pulled a lovely glass jar filled to the brim with a velvety red liquid.
“I thought this would help your arm” she said as she popped the cork, “here, drink up”.
She held the bottle to his lips and he drank deeply of the warm liquid. The terrible aches in his body receded, the pressure in his head fading. He sat up, resting his back on the tree. He inspected his arm; the stitches had broken during his climb, but the potion had sewn his flesh good as new. He pulled at the thread, and it dislodged from the magically healed skin, sliding out of him like a snake.
“Thank you” he said, the words a soft murmur. Zelda placed a concerned hand on his thigh.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Link considered it.
He shook his head.
“It was just an accident, right?”
He nodded, and then brought his hands up to sign.
“It was an accident, I’m sorry for scaring you. I think my pride was hurt more than anything, but thank you for the potion, I really appreciate it, love”.
She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, intertwining her fingers in his own.
“You could feed me stew. If that offer is still on the table” he said.
She smiled. “I have half a mind to trade days and make you cook tonight”
Link laughed, a quiet sound as rare and precious as a falling star.
“I have half a mind too”.
Zelda planted a kiss on his cheek.
“What will you do tomorrow?”
“I’ll try again,” he said.
Link was sitting on the roof of his house. Being up high made him feel secure in a way he couldn’t explain. His shirt was a plain beige, and his hair was tied with a strip of linen that Zelda once used as a bookmark. Once more he bid her a good day and watched her walk off toward town, and once more a single thing was on his mind.
The crow is going to be a father. Or a mother.
A few days prior, he had found a book on birds in Zelda’s study in the well. According to it, crows mated for life, and yet as he sat and watched, he only ever saw the one crow in the nest. He could only guess as to where the little fluffball’s mate was. As the day grew long, it was still alone.
Alone. Like me. Like Zelda.
The more he thought about it, the more a tightness coiled up in his chest.
Alone. You lost your love, didn’t you?
Alone. You have little ones to protect.
Alone. You were brave enough to fight me off.
The book had said that crows like shiny things, which made good sense to Link. He had a small pouch full of some of his own favorite shinies with him. It was time to make a peace offering.
He climbed down off the roof, and walked up to the foot of the tree. He used his tongue to make a clicking sound that animals seemed to like, and a short whistle. He dug a small divot and placed a green rupee, a ruby, and a zonai charge inside. He walked away. Best not to scare the little guy. He retreated back to his perch on the roof, and waited. After a time, he saw the crow. It was slowly sidling down a branch, eyes locked on the treasures. It hopped off the branch and glided to the ground. It poked the treasures with its beak, inspecting them, and then gently picked up the ruby between its beak, and fluttered back up to the branch. Link pumped in air in excitement; he had hoped it would like the heat generated by the precious stone. Deciding that this was enough of a success, he left the bird alone for the time.
“That’s it?”
The feeling of elation was short-lived.
Link walked into Hateno with a spring in his step. He went to the general store and bought rice, butter, and some Gerudo spices to impress Zelda with dinner. Next he went to the dye shop to see if Sayge had made any progress with his shirt. The man in question held out a small square of bright blue cloth.
“Sorry buddy, but what you did to that shirt must be some sort of cruelty against fabric. Not just the blood, the wear on it! The poor thing was threadbare across most of the shoulders, and I’ve never seen so much dirt in a single garment before. Truly, this was all I could save; your shirt died buddy”.
Link took the proffered cloth. It was too small to even wear as a bandanna, though he could tell that Sayge had dyed it fresh anyways.
“You’re...sure?” he asked hesitantly.
“Oh yeah, real sure,” Sayge said. “I already threw the rest of it out”.
“T-threw it out?”
Link didn’t realize the ferocity in his voice until he saw the way that Sayge recoiled, his eyes wide.
“I’m sorry”, Link sighed, “it just...meant a lot to me”.
Sayge nodded, releasing a tense breath. “I really am sorry, I did what I could”.
Link dropped the necessary rupees into his outstretched hand, and trudged back home, feeling oddly heavy. He placed the square of cloth, the last shred of a bygone purpose, underneath his pillow.
The next day he put three strawberries in the divot, and the offering was accepted. The day after that he put a blue rupee in the divot, and this too was accepted. On the third day the crow watched him inquisitively, but did not scream. On the fourth day it settled on the other side of the roof as him. He made clicking sounds with his tongue, and the crow imitated it. Link felt a strange happiness surge through him. On the fifth day he held a handful of chickaloo nuts, and the crow gently picked them up in its beak, taking them one by one back to its nest.
“I wonder if you have a name” Link mused, watching the crow shuffle across the roof. He could hardly believe the anger he’d felt at the little creature before, and had all the more trouble reconciling it against the fierce fondness he now felt.
“You should have a name. What do you think?”
The bird tilted its head at him and hopped closer.
“Hmm, what about...Tattle”
It felt familiar, like a forgotten childhood friend. The crow clicked its beak in a way that, Link thought, meant it was happy.
“It’s settled, your name is Tattle”
“Link?” Zelda called. Tattle took flight.
“Link? Are you up on the roof?”
“I am,” he called back.
“Could you...come down? I can’t climb up there”.
Wordlessly he vaulted over the edge of the roof and landed in a roll.
“Oh! Hello. You seem to be in a good mood”.
“I think I did it,” he said.
“You...did it? What, you made a friend?”
He nodded.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh Link I’m so happy for you! Tell me about them!”
“I’ve been talking to them a little bit, I feel like we really get each other” he said excitedly. “They’re nesting right now, a few kids on the way”.
“Aww, Link! Maybe they’ll be friends with ours!” she said excitedly.
“I didn’t even think of that!” he said, mirroring her own excitement. “They’re handsome and protective, and I think pretty curious, and seem pretty smart. I gave them some food, and a ruby...”
“My love, I knew you could do it! Who is it? Are they a local?
“Their name is Tattle”
Zelda tilted her head.
“Tattle? Well that’s an odd name”.
“I didn’t think it was odd” Link said defensively.
“I—”
Zelda stopped. He could see her processing the information, cataloging it.
“Link, dear. I hope this isn’t...upsetting, for me to ask. But your friend. Are they...a dog?”
Link laughed. “Oh my goodness, no!” he signed.
Zelda let out a relieved breath. “I’m so sorry” she said, “it’s just that the way you were describing them I was starting to wonder”. She joined him in laughing. “To think, I really thought you were spending all this time befriending a dog!”
Link wiped a joyous tear from his eye. “Oh that would be so silly. No don’t worry love, Tattle is a crow”.
Zelda’s laugh turned into a choke. She doubled over, hacking. “Is this a joke?” she managed.
Link scratched his head. “No? Look, they live right there”. He pointed to the branch where Tattle’s nest sat delicately.
Zelda followed his finger with her gaze, her eyes alighting on the branch in question. Her eye twitched.
“Excuse me,” she said, and gently stepped past him into the house. Link felt confusion welling inside of him, only amplified by what sounded like a muffled yell of frustration inside the house. A few moments later, the door opened and Zelda emerged. Link noticed that her cheeks were red, though she appeared calm.
“Link, what happened?”. The question was not accusatory, though demanded explanation.
“Well, you see...”
Zelda sat at the table, a hot mug nestled between her hands. Her face was impassive, her eyes closed. She listened to Link, actively pushing aside the initial rush of judgment that arose. Her knight, her love...he was different than other people. She knew this, she respected this. It was important for her to listen to him without judgment, she knew. So she focused on the heat of the mug, the steam in her nostrils. His words. His beautiful words. She had noticed that he was using his voice more often, and what a treat it was to hear! It was as warm as the Faron jungle, as golden as Tabantha wheat. She sighed, it was so easy to let his voice wrap around her like a blanket, soothing and—
Focus.
She called upon her old training once more and grounded herself, wresting her thoughts out of the recesses of her own mind and back to the present. She opened one eye; Link was animatedly miming how the crow, Tattle, stole his hairband. He was smiling. She closed her eyes. Inhaled.
This is fine.
She half expected it anyway, if she was honest with herself. Acknowledged in a joking way, but often the jests we tell ourselves are simply truths masquerading in the trappings of humor. At the end of the day she wanted him to be happy, to have companionship. So what if her partner is more adept at establishing a relationship with a crow than any single person in a village that loves him?
Her mouth twisted. She bit her lip.
Perhaps that’s the problem.
The village loves him for what he did, but they don’t know the man behind the sword. They don’t know the damaged youth who threw away his own happiness for the greater good.
The greater good. She bit harder, stifling a scoff. Her father’s words, ones that seemed only to damage the people they applied to. She heard Link’s golden voice, soft as Rito down—
Stop. She opened her eyes.
“My love”, she said.
His eyes were on her, wide with anticipation. She saw how he clutched his thighs, as if waiting for a blow from a disapproving teacher. Which, she realized, she sort of was.
“Thank you for telling me about Tattle. It sounds like you’ve been working hard. I’m proud that you have found someone to call a friend”. Her voice was resolute, unwavering.
Yes, that should be what he needs right now. He can work on other friends, actual townspeople later on if he so chooses. For now he—
A single tear welled in Link’s eye, and he quietly wiped it.
Gods.
Why was he so beautiful? She reminded herself how delicate he could be. No, how delicate he is, and the hardness that he forced onto himself. She rose from her seat, and with a few graceful steps wrapped herself around him.
“Do what feels right. If my love runs deep for you then so too does my trust. I have full faith that you will make the decisions that make sense for you. Right for you might not look the way it does for other people, and that is ok.
She felt his hand grasping her arm, a man clinging to stable ground. She kissed his head, his cheek. Their lips met for a moment and she pulled him close to her.
“I love you”. The strain in the words were familiar. She thought of her younger days, forcing words through a clamped throat. Words that must be said, no matter how difficult.
“For all time” she agreed.
Link held his weapon fiercely, hands gripping solid wood. He swung; the rug-beater knocked a great puff of dust from the carpet. He swung again, again. Again. He inhaled with exertion and quickly succumbed to a coughing fit as dust and dirt and gods know what else rushed into his lungs. He waved a hand to clear the air and took a drink from his canteen. With a sigh he reviewed the work; three large rugs that the school used, each a different color. Each covered in old dirt and mud from the gaggle of children that didn’t think about the mess they left behind. He found himself smiling. Zelda was the mother cucco to the schoolchildren. They learned from her, and often followed her around town or into the woods for practical lessons. The results were these terribly dirty rugs that Link had offered to clean for her. He didn’t regret the decision. A bucket of soapy water and a good brush were laid close at hand for the next step of the process. It felt good to be helping in a way that didn’t require violence. Anyone could clean a carpet, there’s nothing special about it. Its normalcy was what made it special to him.
He clucked to himself, realizing the cyclical nature of his analogy. Maybe he should leave those to Zelda, although she did say he had a knack for—
CAW!
He whipped his head toward the tree, but saw nothing. He realized his muscles had tensed, the beater held in a fighting grip. His eyes turned skyward, searching.
That call...it sounded distressed.
He trusted his instincts. After a few moments he saw it; a dark speck that blotted out the sun for a brief moment. A monstrous shadow that glided across the ground. Long wings, splayed and serrated like those of a bat. A devilishly sharp axe-headed tail. Glowing golden eyes.
“Aerocuda” he growled. The monsters of Malice were believed to be wiped out, though it seemed this one must have escaped the hunters. From the corner of his eye he saw Tattle swoop in, raking sharp talons toward the beast, but it lazily banked to the side. Tattle’s voice came again, fierce and angry. The aerocuda ignored it, riding the warm summer air without bothering to flap its great wings. It tucked them into its body and began to dive straight toward Tattle’s nest. With a cry of alarm Link took off at a sprint toward the tree.
I’ll never get there in time!
He tried anyway, legs pumping and lungs bursting. With a mighty leap he grasped a branch and pulled himself up with one hand, the other making the wood of the rug-beater creak in his grip. He felt despair welling up in him as the aerocuda alighted onto a branch next to the nest. It opened its maw, ready to gobble up the defenseless eggs...
A shriek of rage, a blur of black. Red blood erupted from the monster’s face, jagged red lines suddenly marking it. The aerocuda flapped its massive wings with a shriek, taking flight. Tattle worked their black wings for all they were worth, ascending and diving again. The sound of rending flesh heralded three gashes in the aerocuda’s wing, and it struggled to right itself.
Link felt an enormous pride swelling in himself, his desperate climb momentarily forgotten. He watched a kindred spirit, a parent protecting their unborn children. A crow. A knight.
The aerocuda tracked the smaller bird’s movement with skilled eyes. Tattle dove yet again, a battle cry driving him onward. The aerocuda twisted in a feat of shocking aerial grace, its talons sinking into flesh and snatching the smaller bird straight out of the air. Link heard a tiny cry of pain, and watched his friend flap frantically in the claws of the beast. Link saw Tattle go limp. The aerocuda made a sound not unlike harsh laughter and dropped its victim. The little bundle of black fell bonelessly. Without thinking, Link leaped from the tree, his hands quick and gentle pulled his friend close to his chest. He landed hard, felt a searing pain in his leg, and filed it away for the time being. He set the little creature down in the grass.
“You fought well, Tattle. It won’t be in vain”.
Old instincts flared up in him. Link palmed a rock as he rose. The adversary set down on the tree again, eyeing the precious eggs. Link considered the distance, the angle. He pulled his arm back and let fly his missile. The rock soared through the air and struck the creature in its eye, eliciting a scream of pain from it.
“HEY. ASSHOLE BIRD” he yelled, “GET AWAY FROM THAT NEST”.
The aerocuda considered him, a flash of hatred in its eyes. It dropped from the branch and extended its wings, tilted them just so, and came toward Link quick as silver. He didn’t have time to consider the countless battles he had fought, or the years of training. He simply moved, the rug-beater swinging forward, its flared head colliding with the monster’s own.. The instrument snapped, the end broken. The monster crashed to the ground, dazed. Link rushed forward, ignoring the pain in his leg. He coiled and, relying on his good leg, pounced onto the creature, the jagged end of the stick pointed downward. It pierced as surely as any sword. His ears rang with the thing’s death cry, and it poofed into a cloud of Malice. Its body was swept away into the wind, leaving only a hateful eye and a wing behind. Link collapsed, his body heaving for air. It was getting hard to ignore the searing pain in his leg, Link suspected he may have torn the muscle. He palmed the horrible, wet eyeball and limped over to Tattle, who was breathing raggedly in a heap, feathers bloody and torn. He lifted Tattle with trembling hands, and limped home.
“Don’t worry buddy” he grunted, “you’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok”.
It was a lie. He knew it must be, but he grit his teeth and kept moving forward.
“Your eggs are safe. I’ve got you. Hold on, please”.
He crossed the threshold of his house and placed Tattle on the table. He moved as quickly as he could, gathering ingredients. He dumped them into his mortar: a hearty truffle, Hylian tomatoes, dried lizard tail, the aerocuda eyeball. He ground them with the pestle, creating a putrid smelling mixture. The magic of the world responded, and after a minute of effort only a pleasant red liquid remained; a hearty elixir. His hands shook as he moved from the counter to the table, the life-saving elixir almost sloshing uselessly to the floor. He looked at Tattle, the bird’s chest hardly moving when it dawned on him.
How do you get a bird to drink a potion???
“Fuck!” he shouted, looking around desperately. A cup wouldn’t work, not a bowl...a spoon? He felt himself spiraling, spiraling again into panic. He was about to fail someone again, Tattle was going to die, going to die and he was so close and he just needed someone, something to help, if only he could—
The door opened.
Zelda, beautiful Zelda. Smart Zelda.
“Hi Link! I’m here for the ruuohmygod what happened?”
She surveyed the situation: Link wild eyed and favoring a leg, Tattle a bloody mess, their kitchen a wreck. A red potion held precariously in trembling hands. Her training took over. She moved quickly without being frantic. She calmly took the bowl from Link’s hands and used the voice that her nurses taught her.
“You did wonderfully, Link. Everything is ok. Sit down, I need space. It’s ok, it’s ok my love”. The soothing tone to her voice had a visible effect on Link, who responded to the calm authority. He took a seat, still looking fearfully at the patient. Zelda moved swiftly to the storage under the stairs and pulled a small, clean, white towel out. She returned to the table and dipped a corner of it into the potion. The cloth absorbed it easily. She gingerly turned Tattle’s head upward and opened their beak. She twisted the red-stained cloth between her fingers and a few delicate drops splashed over Tattle’s tongue. She repeated the process mechanically; dipping, dripping. Dipping, dripping. The bird finally started to rouse, its eyes blinking, searching the room. Tattle started to rise in a huff when it saw Zelda, but Link held a hand out and made quiet, soothing sounds. Tattle calmed as they saw Link. Zelda fed more of the potion to them, though it was more difficult now that they were awake. Eventually the crow stood tall and proud on their table, croaking and cawing in a tone that neither recognized. Tattle stretched wide their wings, no, their wing. Link felt a gasping cry escape his lips as he realized it. Tattle lost a wing protecting his young. He felt Zelda’s hand on his shoulder.
Epilogue
“You need to make friends”
Months had passed, Link was kneeling, resting one arm on his knee. He cleared his throat. The three fluffy fledglings looked everywhere but at Link. One of them tried to toddle off, but he gently redirected it.
“It can be a hard world out there”, he continued, “and you need people to rely on”.
Another of the little fluffballs tried to wander off, but Tattle hopped forward and corralled them with a few gentle caws. Link looked at his friend; a well-healed stump where one proud wing once was, a familiar piece of fabric worn around their neck like a bandanna. Bright blue on black, a badge of bravery.
The fledgelings chirped and croaked. One of them fell over.
“You’re hopeless” he said with affection, a smile playing about his lips.
He held out his hand and Tattle hopped on, climbing his arm with a now-familiar little scooting. The sable babies followed onto Link’s palm and he lifted them gently. Zelda walked out of the house, her bag slung around her shoulder. She smiled at him, her hand resting protectively over her belly. She kissed him warmly, and pressed her forehead to his. “I’ll see you later love, I have a gaggle of children to teach about our world”.
Link smiled, looking at the little fledglings.
“Me too”, he said with a smile.
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