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Chapter Text

Distant . That was the only word Sky could drum up. Usually a warm presence, Twilight was often scolded for speaking too loudly, but all their patrol, he’d been strangely quiet. He looked more like a ghost drifting through the woods, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Sky wondered if he was guiding himself through instinct alone, aimlessly following the other two heroes.

“Twi,” Sky piped up.

Wars trailed off, his whistling slowing to a stop. The captain fell to a pause, turning to glance at Twilight. The rancher’s silence was not lost on Wars, but they all had their bad days and Twilight was the sort who needed to be left alone for a while.

But Twilight didn’t hear the chosen hero, not even giving up a passing acknowledgement. He continued ambling forward, pushing past his brothers without a glance. Sky and Wars traded a concerned look, gazes following the rancher.

They both waited to see if Twilight would notice. He only did after 20 paces, coming to a slow stop. He tipped his head back, a gaze like winter’s wind finding his brothers. Empty, howling, cold. He said nothing.

Sky frowned, his brow turning up. “Twi,” he said, catching up, “are you okay?”

Twilight rubbed at his face, mumbling something only he could hear.

Wars frowned. “Twilight,” he said again.

But Twilight turned languidly, stepping forward–

Wars backed off, hands raised in truce when Twilight drew his fishing knife on the man. There was a primal gleam in his eye–he’d been startled.

Sky’s gaze widened, he patted the air. “Twi, c’mon, it’s just us.”

Twilight paused, his frost melting. He looked tired , they realized. Something had caught up with him, though what, they didn’t know. A master at hiding wounds and illness, Twilight could slip under just about any scrutiny when he pleased.

Light bags creased under his eyes, his eyes half-vacant indicating he was only faintly present. Alive, existing, but stuck just shy of being part of anything. His left hand twitched slightly, jerking in odd spasms, but he clenched his fist to hide it too late to escape the captain’s examination.

“Sorry,” Twilight offered, putting on an apologetic smile.

Warmth came into his eyes–genuine warmth, the sort that meant he was stuffing something deep into some pit again hoping it would never surface.

Wars pointed at the fishing knife. “Planning on gutting me?” he asked plainly.

Twilight tucked the knife away, the tips of his ears reddening. “Spooked me,” he offered with a shrug. “Better’n pulling my blessed sword on y’alls.”

Sky frowned. “Are you not sleeping well?” he asked.

Twilight sighed, scratching at his brow. “Just had a bad dream last night ‘n it keep me up. S’nothing to worry ‘bout. I’ll get some rest t’night–”

“If you’d said something you could’ve stayed back at camp to nap,” Wars scolded. “Coming out here with us like this puts everyone at risk, Twi. It’s irresponsible.”

Twilight looked away, clearly guilty. “You’re right cap’n,” he sighed. “‘Course you’s right. I’m sorry I just–I had an itch’s all ‘n I woulda gone crazy sitting at camp.”

Sky reached for Twilight, but the rancher jerked back a little too harshly. Sky sighed, face dripping with concern.

“Your curse?” Sky assumed correctly–a fact which irritated Twilight.

The rancher’s face darkened. He looked away in a childish pout at being sniffed out so quickly. He clutched his left arm in his right hand defensively.

“It’s fine,” he muttered. “We just been fighting lotsa them black bloods lately ‘n it gets riled up o’er it.”

Wars nodded, hands on his hips. “Alright, as your captain–”

“Yeah right,” Twilight scoffed. “You ain’t my captain. I order you to buzz off.”

Wars frowned sternly. “I order you to take it easy.”

“Yeah well I order you to mind your own business.”

“I order you to take care of yourself for a change–”

“Oh that’s richer’n a bowl’a sweet milk comin’ from you, pretty boy,” Twilight hissed, getting up in the taller hero’s face.

Wars narrowed his eyes. “I am not fighting with you about this–”

“Well I am . You can’t tell me what to do,” Twilight snapped. “‘Sides I order you first !”

“Guys, please,” Sky sighed tiredly. “This really isn’t the time.”

Wars eyes never left Twilight. “At least one of you is being reasonable.”

“‘Least one’f y’all knows how to stay out my baba–”

“We can all see your shadow,” Sky cut in.

The argument came to a dead stop. Wars’ gaze didn’t lighten any as Twilight faltered, clearly humiliated. He gave up a nod, suddenly refusing to look at either of them. They did their best not to mention when the rancher’s shadow darkened, when his markings were more severe. Twilight could hide anything but the ever changing severity of his curse and the others had to wonder if that wasn’t one of its conditions.

Sky dropped his shoulders with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but arguing doesn’t help and you get even worse when you’re upset. We’ve covered enough ground so I think we should just head back.”

Wars folded his arms. “Agreed,” he said. “That’s two against three, Twi. C’mon.”

Twilight rubbed at his nose, but nodded. He wanted to be invisible then, but the other two made him walk ahead just to keep him from darting or from wandering away again. As they walked, the rancher slowly thinned back to his previously ghostly presence.

They reached their camp finally, thankful for the temperate cave in Hyrule’s world. A warm fire crackled at the center of camp, the others gathered near it to stay warm against the winter chill which seeped inside.

“Anything?” Legend asked, glancing up from a round of cards.

Wars shook his head, unfastening the pankou knots of his coat, gloves between his teeth.

Sky unclasped a heavy fur-lined cloak from his shoulders, beelining towards the fire. “And I thought Skyloft got cold,” he complained. “The Surface is freezing .”

Wind agreed. “It never gets this cold at home.”

“It’s winter,” Hyrule offered apologetically. “At least it’s dry. Sometimes it snows enough we’d be stuck here for days.”

Four laughed. “I think I’d lose my mind having to smell Wild for that long.”

Wild glanced over, dramatically putting a hand to his chest. “Pardon me?” he scoffed. “At least I don’t smell like wet dog!”

The heroes all glanced towards Twilight, expecting him to pick up the banter. Instead, the rancher stood still as a statue, everywhere else other than the present. His wool coat was thick, swallowing him up under a fur lined hood. He still wore thick mittens, his hands hanging at his sides.

“...Twi?” Wild asked, standing up.

The rancher’s gaze moved to the champion, a cold emptiness in it.

Wild frowned, going to Twilight’s side. Twilight looked up suddenly, eyes bright as he glanced outside at the bitter afternoon.

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

Time frowned, reaching for his sword. “Hear what–”

“Sh, sh,” Twilight hushed, tipping his head one way.

Silence followed.

“ That ,” Twilight said.

“No,” Legend said through a frown, picking up the fire rod. “What is it?”

Twilight paused, glancing at all of them in surprise. “It’s–”

He searched the eyes looking back at him. Curiosity, dumbness. They hadn’t heard the laughter which was so close to Twilight’s ear he swore it came from just over his shoulder. His face furrowed in frustration.

“Never mind,” Twilight said quietly.

“Twi–” Sky said.

“It’s gone,” the rancher bit.

Sky flinched at the tone, nodding. Legend crooked a brow, Time looked worried.

Twilight fought off his cold weather layer, avoiding the fire and sitting near his things tucked in an odd corner of the cave. That way he hoped no one would see his shadow as he tucked his head between his knees and closed his eyes, losing himself into whatever nagged at him since the evening before.

Chapter Text

The curse was nasty business. Wild saw the rancher curl up in pain, raving mad when the blood moon rose. Any time they ventured close to Hyrule Castle, Twilight fought with himself. And now the presence of infected monsters chip, chip, chipped away at the rancher until his usually strong guard against the curse cracked and the shadows seeped out in a steady leak. They poisoned his sanity, made his left arm twist and twitch in pain, plagued him with nightmares. But in the cave, it was the worst Wild had ever seen it all but once.

If the champion thought he could make Twilight eat something, he’d have stewed up the rancher’s very own pumpkin soup. Instead, he crept over with a warm mug of honey milk, settling just near Twilight.

There was a wall as Wild drew near–something cold and sharp which gripped his heart in a sickeningly primal fear. He was aware of his scars then, as if they might tear at the slightest movement, and he could smell his own burned flesh and the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue and plugged his nose.

But the champion fought through it, forcing himself to sit within reach of the rancher. Twilight sat with his knees drawn to his chest, arms draped over them and face hidden between. He’d been still and silent, taking up as little space as he could for nearly two hours. As Wild drew close, he could hear the rancher mumbling to himself, arguing with himself.

“Here,” Wild said, offering the milk.

Twilight twitched, a startled gasp leaving him. His left hand gripped his shin so tightly his knuckles and nails lost color. The rancher lifted his head, miserable exhaustion smeared across his face. He gave up a soft sigh.

“Thanks cub,” he managed softly with a fatigued smile, taking the milk.

Wild nodded, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“M’sure I will be,” Twilight answered, cupping the warm mug though he made no effort to drink any of it.

“Nightmares?”

“Mm.”

“Are you…are you hearing things?” Wild asked softly, ensuring none of the others overheard.

The atmosphere in the cave was tense. The others were sick with worry, but did what they could to distract themselves. Twilight was private anyway, and they all knew of his curse even if he refused to speak on the matter. Still, when Wild moved towards the rancher, the others found themselves quieting to try and pry into their conversation.

Twilight sighed in reluctant confirmation.

Wild frowned, looking down. “I wish I could help.”

“I know,” Twilight said quietly, voice warm despite the audible discomfort in it. “Thank you, cub.”

Wild tugged at his ponytail anxiously. “What is it saying?”

Twilight shook his head. “Nothin’ outta the ordinary,” he answered vaguely.

Which meant nothing good in Wild’s experience. The champion nodded, settling quietly. He lasted for as long as he could manage in the shadows’ presence, but finally, the crawl on his skin became unbearable, Zelda’s cries ringing in his ears.

“I–” Wild hesitated, beside himself. “Just for a moment, I need some air–”

Twilight gave up a knowing smile. “S’okay, Wild. Thanks for making this,” he said, indicating the milk. “I don’t want your comp’ny if it’s gone hurt you.”

Wild curled his fists, visibly frustrated. But he nodded, unable to stand another moment in the shadows’ wake. He stood tensely and turned, trudging back to the fire. As soon as he was beyond the rancher’s reach, the unignorable fear in his heart settled. The relief drew a loud sigh from him, his shoulders dropping. The warmth of the flames nearly overwhelmed him.

“Well?” Legend asked, looking up from some idle mending he’d taken up.

Wild shook his head slightly. “He just needs…it’ll just take some time. I wouldn’t get too close though.”

Sky and Hyrule nodded in agreement. It was little surprise the two of them were overly aware of the shadows’ presence in the cave. Twilight settled the way he’d been before, his untouched milk sitting next to him.

Wind frowned. “Sky could just–”

“No,” Sky said quietly. “Not unless he asks for it or if things get out of hand.”

“I’ll stay up with him tonight,” Time volunteered.

Wild gave the eldest hero a look of protest.

Time folded his arms sternly. “You had watch last night. I expect you to try and rest through tonight.”

The champion huffed, annoyed. Wars settled a hand on Wild’s shoulder.

“I know you’re worried, champ. You can stay with him tomorrow, alright? Besides, he’d want you to get some rest, wouldn’t he?”

Wild nodded, frowning, his brow knit. Twilight was always putting him first, always looking after him even when he was fighting his own wars. Just once Wild wanted to be able to do something to help the man the way he’d been helped so many times before.

“Time,” Wild said quietly, “when he has a nightmare, don’t touch him. You’ll just overwhelm him.”

Time nodded. “Alright,” he sighed. “Thank you. What all do you know about this?”

Wild shook his head slightly. “Not much,” he admitted. “He’ll probably worry we’re trying to trick him and kill him if it gets much worse and I know he’s in a lot of pain. Ice jellies usually help a little bit. And just…” Wild sighed. “Just leave him be as much as you can.”

“Some curse,” Legend sighed, cutting thread between his teeth.

Wild nodded. “He doesn’t even tell me about it.”

Time smiled, reaching over to pat the champion’s head. “You’ve done as much as you can, cub. I’ll borrow your pouch for the night if that’s alright.”

Wild agreed with a nod, folding in on himself and stewing quietly. The champion hoped it would settle soon. He never wanted to hear Twilight scream that way again, never wanted to see that look back on the rancher’s face.

Chapter Text

If he weren’t crying, Twilight would have remained still as stone. Time’s brow pulled, the eldest hero sympathetic and horribly beside himself as he approached his pup. He wanted nothing more than to be able to take on the younger hero’s pain himself, or to at least do something for it.

As he neared, it wasn’t just the quiet weeping. Twilight whispered to himself, arguing with voices unheard. It made Time’s skin prickle, his hair raised. Whatever language Twilight spoke wasn’t Hylian and Time didn’t recognize it in the slightest. It sounded alien .

“Stop,” Twilight hissed, his sudden rambling cut off.

Time paused, seeing a pair of eyes flick up to greet him from the rancher’s bowed head. Twilight sniffled.

“Don’t rec’mend you come any closer,” the rancher warned.

Time sighed softly. “I brought you some water–”

He stepped forward, the air suddenly leaving his lungs. His heart pounded in his chest, his palms grew slick. Afraid . Deathly afraid .

“We told you,” Twilight sighed, tone harsh.

Time’s grip on the waterskin tightened. Twilight needed him . Fear be condemned–the man had been through worse.

Another step and suddenly, he wasn’t so sure that was true.

Something in him reignited. A wildfire of agony long gone cold. Like the ashen forest regrew and suddenly the earth itself cracked open and a pit of flames and smoke opened up, sucking in everything good in the world. He hadn’t felt this sort of fear since he was a child. There was an abyss just beyond his toes.

Twilight was fighting with himself again. His left fingers dithered, tapping against his knee. His face was wet with tears, hair damp with sweat. The exhaustion in his eyes tempered an icy rage only further frozen through sheer agony.

Time felt the creep of the moon, a steady march of time he could only repeat ad nauseam until he forced it to bend to his will. He’d given up so much of himself and still never truly accomplished his mission. A fear of failure, a fear of his legacy, a fear of regret. A childhood fear of the dark and the haunting touch of redeads on his skin–

Time forced it down. Whatever poisoned Twilight did the same to him. It was trying to drive him off, separate the wolf from his pack to make its prey all the more vulnerable.

Stubbornly, Time sat next to Twilight. His hands trembled as he passed the rancher the waterskin. Twilight frowned, but accepted it wordlessly.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Time stewed in his fear, failing to adjust to the anxiety gnawing at his heart and trying to drag his mind down into unbearable panic. Twilight fought with himself, hissing and spitting in a low ramble of some incomprehensible language and sometimes, eerily, he laughed at himself.

“Twi,” Time whispered. “Are you still with me?”

“Mm,” Twilight confirmed.

“You should try and rest.”

“Why?” Twilight asked, his voice dark.

He sounded like a stranger then. Distrustful, wrathful. There was no warmth in him, no rapport. Time’s eyes flicked over to Twilight to find an icy gaze fixed on him. The lightless look was unsettling, the rancher’s frown oddly neutral.

“You’re tired,” Time said quietly.

Twilight’s head jerked. The man flinched, hissing at nothing as if telling it to shut up. Time’s face lost color. He was watching his pup lose his mind in real time.

“Where’s your sword?” Twilight asked suspiciously.

Time pointed towards the fire. Twilight’s eyes fell on the Biggoron blade propped up against the eldest’s pack. Twilight tipped his head back, clearly consulting with something unheard.

“Can’t sleep in front’a you,” Twilight said finally. “Ain’t personal.”

“Pup, I would never hurt you–”

“Eight of you. We only got one body. Don’t like ‘em odds.”

Time knit his brow. He reached out a hand, wondering if Twilight would pull away. The rancher regarded him coolly but stayed as he was, so Time settled his hand in his pup’s hair. That melted something. Twilight’s face reddened, his eyes welling with tears.

“M’sorry,” Twilight got out. “Ain’t like that–”

“It’s alright,” Time hushed.

Twilight shook his head. “You oughta leave. Won’t be better ‘til daylight.”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Twilight argued, wiping his nose on his wrist.

Time frowned. “I’m more worried about you than a silly nightmare. You said ‘we’.”

Twilight paused, pulling away after a moment. His eyes widened, clearly listening to something Time couldn’t perceive again. The rancher’s left hand spasmed, his right hand covering his mouth to muffle a pained whimper and avoid waking the others’ fragile slumber.

“Here,” Time said, offering an ice jelly.

Twilight took it, some relief as he held it in his left palm. Time expected the rancher to hold it to his bicep. Instead, he pressed it to the middle of his chest. It soothed him some, his shoulders sagging in exhaustion as he bowed his head.

“Tell me about it?” Time asked.

Twilight tensed slightly. “I–I dunno it ain’t–”

“Pup,” Time said gently, resting a hand on his back. “I won’t judge you.”

“They did,” Twilight said, voice withdrawn. “They judge all of us.”

“Us?” Time pressed.

Twilight’s face caught in confusion. He shook his head as if to clear it.

“The curse it–” Twilight chewed his lip, choosing his words. “It shows me things. Makes me feel like I’m someone else.”

Time nodded softly. He frowned, hand reaching up to his brow.

“I…know how that feels,” Time offered. “I’ve been possessed before.”

Twilight frowned. Despite his own suffering, the rancher was suddenly pitying Time instead of focusing on himself. Time wished he hadn’t said anything for a moment.

Twilight jerked again, gritting his teeth as something which sounded profane slipped his lips. He groaned out a stifled scream of pain, rocking slightly and crushing the ice jelly to his chest.

“Can I help?” Time asked, voice heavy with worry.

That stranger’s glare fell on the eldest hero again. “Keep your filthy paws away fr’m us,” he snapped.

Time held out his hands in truce. “Okay,” he agreed. “Fine. What do you think I’ll do to you anyway?”

“Ain’t gone back,” Twilight spat, glare focused on nothing. “Can’t make us–we’ll kill ev’ry last one’f you blessed cowards first.”

Time frowned, wondering if he should’ve grabbed his sword instead. But as he scrutinized Twilight, he realized the rancher’s mind was elsewhere. He was talking to someone else–some thing else. Twilight leaned back against the wall, eyes cast up at the ceiling. A sort of vacancy undercut his anger and he continued to ramble quietly to himself, vitriol plain in his words, left hand squeezing the jelly so hard Time thought it might pop.

Time fought against his own fear still, but now his worry too. It was hard to gather his thoughts when all he wanted to do was put Twilight to bed, tuck him in warmly, and tell him he’d feel better in the morning. An idea came to the hero then and eagerly, he left the rancher. Twilight didn’t notice.

Chapter Text

The shackles bit into his flesh and they were so heavy . Beaten and sunburned, bruised and cut, he’d been fighting like an animal in the arena over and over and over and over– I’m going to die here .

He was so thirsty and tired and it hurt so, so bad . He missed home. He missed knowing peace. More than anything, he just wanted one more taste of that dark magic. Its power intoxicated him, filling him with a comfortable silence, making him invincible. Just one more lick would allow him to escape.

Twilight’s head hurt, the man fighting through the memories. He struggled to stay above them, to separate them from his own. But he had to wonder how they weren’t his when he could feel them so vividly–the heat of the desert, the tenderness of bruised flesh, a constant exhaustive need for survival swallowing up everything in him.

His fingers shook, his lip quivered.

Use us, the ghosts in his head whispered.

“No,” Twilight murmured in Twili. “Go away. Please .”

You need us.

“No. Nonono.”

They’re watching you. Judging you.

“They’re protectin’ me–”

They’ll put you to death. They put all of us to death. You’ll join us anyway. Why not use us to save yourself a while longer–

“I said shut up!” Twilight yelled.

Pain pulled him out of his own head. He gritted his teeth over a spasm through his left arm, jerking his hand forward and back and forcing his fingers into a claw.

Time hurried back to Twilight’s side. That wall of fear did little to stop the man when his pup was involved. The feeling worsened as Twilight’s condition waxed. Fears that weren’t Time’s clung to his shoulders. Bugs crawling up his skin, the rattle of their hard shells in his ears. Rats across his feet, eating him while he still lived and breathed. Sweltering days, frozen nights. The howls of ghosts in the dark and the scream of men just as desperate beneath the light.

“I’m here, pup, I’m here,” Time said, reaching for Twilight.

Traitortraitortraitor–

“You’re wrong–he would never–”

They only need you alive for your execution.

Time brushed his fingers along Twilight’s shoulder. The rancher bared his teeth in a vicious growl, shoving a foot at Time. Given the rancher’s condition, the power in the kick took Time by surprise, but he dodged. Right–don’t touch him when he’s having a nightmare.

Time sighed, pity on his face. He just wanted to fix it .

“I’m sorry,” Time said quietly. “Look.”

He held out his hands. Strangers’ eyes fell on Time again. Distant, cautious. Madness lurked beneath their frost as Twilight’s lip curled. His gaze moved from Time’s empty hands to the glint of the Biggoron blade in the firelight on the other side of the cave. Time only wondered what Twilight saw.

Twilight settled again, balling himself up and pressing against the wall. He fell back into muttering with himself, head twitching as if he had a thousand voices vying for his attention. He spoke in a low mumble, eyes closed as if ceasing the chant would allow something unseen to overwhelm him.

He looked like a feral animal fighting himself to exhaustion to get out of a trap. Time worried if it went on for much longer what lengths his pup might go to.

The eldest hero ignored the cold sweat across his neck and back, the way his fingers shook and knees weakened. His stomach turned and heart fluttered and every breath was intentional and all too loud. He needed to know what he was up against, and so he raised his magnifying glass, pushing magic into the lens to see the curse.

It was under the rancher’s skin, curling around his bones in shadowy brambles. The thorns rendered the flesh and scraped the bone and slowly constricted the rancher in a painful creep. Their roots gathered near his gut, but a strange pattern like flowers blossomed from his left bicep.

It was nothing Time could get rid of, but he would at least try to force it to retreat. As he lowered the glass, he frowned sadly. His heart broke for Twilight–the rancher’s labored breathing through an inane ramble, the sweat soaking his brow and his pale complexion. He twitched and whimpered, fighting so hard to free himself but ultimately just as powerless as anyone else.

Time sighed, picking up his ocarina. Its familiar weight brought the hero some comfort. He’d been through worse he figured, although it felt like a lie he told himself. The cool glazed clay against his fingertips, the small chip in the mouthpiece. Time closed his eyes, playing a bright tune.

It had the power to change day to night and back again, but moreover, the power to freeze the dead, to ward off the darkness. He opened his eyes on the final note to see Twilight looking at him with some complicated emotion.

Fatigue faded the rancher’s gaze, sweat dripped from his bangs. He sniffled, relaxing some, his rambling quieting. His eyes darted as if he still heard something else but it wasn’t all he heard.

Time played the song again.

Twilight managed to lower his shoulders, his head lolling to the side as his eyes fluttered shut. His left fingers still fidgeted, the knit in his brow indicating he still refused to sleep. But the immediate relief of Time’s song forced his exhaustion to blanket the curse for the time being.

The fear in Time eased. It wasn’t gone, but retreated nonetheless. He reached out to Twilight, the rancher hardly reacting as he was pulled into Time’s chest. Time held Twilight warmly, rubbing his back, shushing him.

“You’re okay,” Time hushed. “I’m here.”

“What’s…?”

Time only rocked Twilight gently. “Worry about it tomorrow. You need to rest.”

Twilight shook his head softly. “Can’t. The bugs’ll get me or they’ll…they gone…” Twilight shuddered, hiding his face in Time’s chest.

“Pup, tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Gone put me t’death,” Twilight murmured. “Make me fight ‘n then–”

Twilight hissed in pain, curling his fist against his chest. The sages’ sword, its burning light plunging into his chest. It seared his flesh and boiled his blood and there was no mercy as he felt himself sinking into death. Hate overcame him as he did, twisting his flesh into something ugly.

“No,” Time said softly, rubbing Twilight’s back. “No one’s going to do that.”

Time rested his head on top of Twilight’s, ignoring how damp the rancher was. The young man–the boy –shivered in his arms.

“Time,” Twilight said tiredly.

“I’m here, pup.”

“I don’t wanna go with ‘em.”

“You won’t. I’ll hold on to you.”

“Can you play that song ‘gain?” Twilight asked in a mumble.

Time nodded. “Of course, pup.”

He shifted Twilight’s weight to free his hands. The rancher settled into him desperately like a child woken from a nightmare. Time brought the ocarina to his lips. Each time the song eased some of the poison in Twilight’s mind, the rancher grew heavier and heavier.

Finally a long miserable sigh escaped Twilight as he sunk into a restless sleep against Time’s chest. The shadows around him eased somewhat, though his own was still dark. Time pulled the rancher into his lap, holding him snugly in his arms. If he could just keep Twilight down until dawn broke, if that was all he could do for his boy–

Twilight fidgeted in his sleep, brow pinching as a whimper left him. Time rubbed his shoulder, hushing him gently. The rancher didn’t wake, trapped in a nightmare.

Chapter Text

His voice vanished, prayers and pleas silenced. His lips cracked and knuckles split and every labored breath scraped his dry throat and filled his mouth with grit and blood. His skin reddened and peeled and blistered and the shackles holding him to the wall rubbed his wrists raw. He was suspended somewhat, not even allowed to rest properly on the ground. The ache in his shoulders disappeared after he lost track of the days.

The sun rose, he baked. At noon, they tossed him into the arena. In the evening, he was chained once more. When the sun set, they threw water at him and forced dry clumps of moldy tack in his mouth. If he weren’t starving, he’d never be able to swallow it.

The days were lost, the nights uncounted. He struggled to remember a life before the prison. They told him to kill. It kept him alive. He was good at it, he got better. Time passed, opponents lost. He remained.

Twilight choked over his dry throat, a guard taking a handful of hair and forcing his head back so sharply the dry skin of his scalp tore.

“Where is he?” the guard demanded.

Always the same question, always the same answer.

A rattled gasp left him as pain blossomed in his gut. Three strikes, bile gathered in the back of his throat. It surged up, burning his flesh and lips and gums and spilling down his chin. The guards laughed the same way they always did.

Twilight’s eyes settled on them. When did he start to lose his vision? The sun was slowly blinding the man, the sand damaging his eyes further.

“I’ll…” Twilight’s voice was harsh, it felt like nails clawing at his throat to speak. “I’ll remember you,” he hissed. “And I’ll kill you.”

The guards burst into laughter. Two more shots of pain. He bowed his head over an audible crack when one guard pushpushpushed his finger too far back.

“He’s not coming for you,” a guard cackled. “And if he does, we’re ready for him.”

Sky couldn’t help but pace. Slowly, he worked a trail into the cave’s soft floor. The others worried for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to rest. Not while Twilight suffered. Not while his unfinished business did such horrible things to his brother.

Sky turned towards Time, brow knit. “Time,” he pleaded, “I’ll sit with him. You need to get some sleep too–”

Time shook his head. “I’m fine. If you come near him, you’ll be poisoned too.”

Sky’s face drew in a desperate frown. That’s what Time called it– poison –despite there being nothing physical about the curse outwardly. Its magic seeped into the air around the rancher. The atmosphere within arm’s reach was cold, unforgiving, and there was something horrifically ancient about it.

Twilight was wrapped up in Time’s arms, whimpering in a fitful slumber. He slept long enough to wake long enough just to exhaust himself all over again. Despite incoherent protests in some language none of the heroes recognized, Time held fast. Within minutes, the rancher would panic himself into sleep all over again.

It was more than apparent that it was taking a toll on the eldest hero. Being in contact with Twilight gave the curse new flesh to feed on. Time was tense, something lurking in his gaze and the way his frown twitched. His breathing was a conscious effort and sweat plastered his hair to his neck. Still, he persisted.

“If it’s hurting you then let one of us take over,” Wild argued.

Time fixed a stern gaze on the champion. “No, I won’t do that to you–to any of you. If you want to help, you can look after yourselves.”

Wars folded his arms. “We’re in this together–”

Twilight jolted awake. Whatever this nightmare had been was more severe than the last. Time froze in a cold stunning fear as Twilight wrenched himself from the man’s grip. He scrambled for his sword, pulling it, hands shaking as he pointed it wildly at the others.

Legend was up on his feet in an instant. “Twi,” he said as he approached. “It’s just us, okay?”

Twilight’s eyes flicked between the heroes. “Dirty trick,” he hissed. “S’all you got’s dirty tricks ‘n we know better!”

Hyrule curled his fists. The traveler let out a long sigh and stepped forward. Twilight raised his blade, but Hyrule’s fingers brushed over his hand. Twilight’s mad fear softened into recognition. He dropped his sword, drawing his trembling hands to his chest. Hyrule caught him as the rancher’s knees gave out.

The traveler realized then what Time meant by poison. It was a slow crawl, something that festered in Hyrule’s insecurities. It laughed at his fears no matter how small or big, it made him aware of all the times he’d faced those things.

“Twi,” Hyrule said softly, his own voice weak against the magic. “It’s alright.”

Twilight shook his head. “No, I–we–” He faltered, panicked confusion on his face.

“We’re here with you, alright?” Hyrule offered. “So you don’t need to be scared–”

Twilight pulled apart the words, his lip trembling. He nodded, sniffling, grabbing Hyrule in a tight embrace. Hyrule’s body froze over a tidal wave of fear, but he ignored it, hugging Twilight back.

Time knelt by Twilight, pushing his hand through his pup’s hair. “What were you dreaming about?” he asked.

Twilight shook his head slightly. “They gone kill us soon,” he said softly. “But Lord Ganon’ll save us–”

The rancher stopped, catching himself too late. Hyrule’s grip on the man loosened. Twilight flicked his eyes up, horror on his face. The other heroes looked uncomfortable, worried for him.

“Rulie–” Twilight started. “We–I don’t mean it like that–”

Hyrule drew back, offering a smile. It was fake, Twilight knew it was. There was no warmth in it. The name Ganon set Hyrule on edge under the best circumstances. The shadows curled up to the traveler, drawing forth memories of being bound, of being bled. He nearly died all to resurrect an ancient evil and now Twilight–or whatever held power over him–revered that evil.

“It’s alright,” Hyrule offered. “You’re not yourself.”

Twilight failed to reach out, to take Hyrule back in as the traveler stood. Twilight’s hands fell to his lap. He looked at the others desperately.

The sages surrounding him, listing off crimes, pretending as if he were having a real trial. Instead they condemned him to misery. Fight until he dies, fight until he can’t. Exile him either way, kill him with the goddess’ light–

We’re so tired. We want to go home.

“Shut up,” Twilight hissed, face burning in shame.

Free us, hero! If you do, you can use us.

Twilight hugged himself. “No,” he murmured. “No you’ll use me–”

We can rebuild the mirror together. We can become the Twili King. She can be yours, hero. Use our power. Use our knowledge. Use our–

Twilight gasped, feeling the curse withdraw. He moved his gaze to Time. The man played his ocarina intently. The song was bright, cheery. It lifted Twilight’s heart, he felt the warmth of the sun on his skin.

Time’s playing came to a stop, a sorrowful gaze fixed on Twilight. The rancher barely held himself upright, having exhausted what little energy he earned back. He swayed slightly–Wild was there to catch him.

The champion braced against the wash of fear which rolled across his skin. He ignored the phantom pains in his scars, the feeling of mud in his ear and nose. He kept Twilight upright long enough for Time to take the rancher into his arms again.

“Where’d they take Hyrule?” Twilight asked in a mumble.

“Nowhere, pup,” Time answered. “He just stepped out–”

But Twilight was muttering to himself in that strange tongue again. His eyes closed, his weight settled into Time. He curled up to the man for what little comfort he could scrape up and Time did his best to offer it but he was terrified himself.

“Lord Ganon,” Legend huffed. “I’m gonna go talk to Hy.”

Wars frowned. “Be safe–”

“Captain,” Legend cut off, “we’ll just be outside. It’s his time anyway.”

Wars nodded, clearly at a loss. He just wanted to fix whatever was wrong. He wanted to absolve Twilight of the curse, take the burden if there was no solution.

Wind frowned, fussing with his necklace. “Um what did he–he said us .”

“Wild?” Four asked, hands on his hips.

Wild shook his head slightly. “I…I don’t know,” he admitted. “But he told me once that he hears voices like this like he’s haunted. They tell him lots of bad things to wear him down.”

Wars frowned. “And if they win?”

Wild fell silent. In part because he had no explicit answer. In part because he knew the answer anyway and never wanted to even give the words life.

Chapter Text

Lord Ganon. The name rang in his ears. He’d heard it all his life, every step as he fled, every nook he tucked himself in to hide. The ropes against his skin, their blades cutting him open. Hot blood washing across his arms, dripping from his fingers. Lord Ganon.

“Hy,” Legend said softly, brushing his fingers on the traveler’s back.

Hyrule startled, stepping away in a quick skirt, reaching for the sword he didn’t have on him. Wide eyed, he stared at Legend for a moment before his face melted into rueful embarrassment.

“Ah,” he  mumbled, “sorry. I was just…”

“It’s alright,” Legend said quietly. “Are you okay?”

Hyrule snorted softly. It was a loaded question. If he lied, if he said he was fine, Legend would see right through him. But the words caught in his throat. Speaking them brought a shiver to him, made his skin prickle. Sweat gathered on his brow, he felt lightheaded–

When had he sat? Hyrule’s vision cleared. Legend’s hand was on the back of his head, forcing it down between his legs. The dizziness cleared, a wave of nausea followed. Hyrule rubbed his belly miserably but kept it together. As he raised his head, he tipped slightly as a chill moved up his scalp.

“You’re okay,” Legend hushed. “In and out, Rulie. Deep breaths.”

Hyrule closed his eyes, pacing his breathing. His face was damp–sweat, tears. He licked a bit of runny snot from his upper lip as he pressed his thumbnail into his palm to force himself from a fog of panic.

“Sorry,” Hyrule murmured.

“Don’t be sorry,” Legend sighed. “Will you tell me about it?”

Hyrule nodded, eyes cast down at the dry earth.

Legend frowned. “ Can you tell me about it?”

Hyrule shook his head slightly. “When I try it just–I guess I just get freaked out,” he offered with a sad chuckle.

Legend nodded, drawing his knees up. He hugged them, resting his chin between them. Ahead of them, a brittle forest grew from the cracked earth. The winter air bit at the two heroes in their usual clothing. A dry wind rattled the branches, strange birds called out into the lightening day.

“Did you get any sleep?” Hyrule asked after a moment.

Legend shook his head. The veteran glanced down when Hyrule leaned his weight into his side.

“Hard to sleep knowing that…well that that’s going on,” Legend sighed. “And anyway, he kept me up with all his rambling and yelling.”

Hyrule nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I wish I could do something for him.” He paused, frowning. “Well I guess I did , I think I still do, but hearing him say–” Hyrule hesitated, his eyes growing bright with tears. “I know it’s not his fault,” Hyrule hissed, “but I still feel so–so–”

Legend draped his arm over the traveler, pulling the boy in close as he fell into fearful sobs. The veteran pressed his forehead to Hyrule’s crown, his nose in the traveler’s curls. Hyrule clung to Legend, stealing the other boy’s warmth as he cried. Guilt ate at him, fear and anger did too. He was never equipped to handle such a brew of emotions.

“Dawn’s coming up,” Four said in relief, hands on his hips as he watched the horizon from the cave.

As pink graced the horizon, as feathery clouds caught a silver glow, Twilight’s restlessness settled some.

The rancher’s fever faded, his breathing steadied. His mumbles quieted as the sun broke over the hills and he fell still in Time’s arms. Deathly still. Time worried a moment, but as he checked his pup, found Twilight had sunk into such a deep sleep that likely nothing would rouse him except for time and patience.

The fear in the cave withdrew like the tide, crawling back into Twilight, sinking beneath his skin once more. As sunlight breached the cave, Time lifted his eyeglass to see the brambles beneath Twilight’s skin had faded. Still, the flowers gathered along his scar but slowly they wilted. The curse retreated back into the root in Twilight’s gut, the air cleared.

Time slouched, exhaustion overcoming him as his anxieties evaporated. His shoulders and neck ached, tense the whole night through, he felt as if he could finally breathe and his sweat brought a sickly shiver to him.

Sky approached, sitting by Twilight. He rolled the rancher into his lap. Their triforces shimmered, Time felt his own reaching out. The power quelled what remained, the petals on Twilight’s arm vanished. The rancher’s face screwed up, his breath hitching over pain. His chest lifted, back bowed as if something skewered him. His hands clutched his chest, his head jerking in a whimper of pain.

But then he fell slack again. His face was blank, peaceful, his breathing steady and deep. Sky ran his fingers through the rancher’s damp hair, humming a soft song as he did.

Time fell to his side, curling up on the cave floor. There was nothing left in him after his night in the curse’s miasma. His head pounded, all those horrible memories drawn up, every little pinprick of fear he’d ever felt. The dark, the swamp, the masks, the moon, spiders and thunder–he closed his eyes, his pulse buzzing in his ears.

Wars settled by Time, hesitating before he set a hand on the man’s shoulder. Time drew close to the touch. Wars paused and then nodded, pulling Time into his own lap. He was never very good at comforting, but he knew how to mitigate anxiety and so he sat with Time, reassuring the man–he talked about the weather, he went over routine plans for the day. Time said nothing, but visibly appreciated the mundane prattling until finally, he fell asleep himself.

“Wild,” Wind offered, “if you wanna sit with Twi, me and Four can make break–”

“No,” Wild cut off quickly.

Wind paused, frowning. “Our cooking isn’t that bad.”

Wild raised a brow. “Your seafood stew has no seafood in it.”

The sailor folded his arms, turning his head with a curt huff. “It’s got brine ,” he argued. “It’s seafood stew ‘cuz it tastes like seafood. Besides, I wouldn’t make stew for breakfast.”

Wild smiled. “Oh right, you’d just burn eggs instead.”

Four smiled sheepishly. “He’s right Wind, I think we should leave it to him.”

Wind puffed his cheeks, pouting. Wild paused and then smiled, mussing the sailor’s hair.

“Look,” the champion offered, “if you wanna help out, you could go get some water. I think we all need to wash up a bit.”

Wind nodded eagerly. “‘Kay–c’mon Four!”

Four had little choice as the sailor grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the cave. Instantly, the two regretted not putting on their coats first. Unaccustomed to cold weather, it entirely slipped the sailor’s mind.

Just as quickly as the two had left the cave, they returned. Wars only chuckled, Sky giving up a warm laugh. Wild snickered from the cooking pot.

The levity brought out the fatigue in the heroes’ faces. None of them had slept well if they had at all. But with daybreak, their restless night left them all the more happy to have one another.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Wars sighed, settling next to Twilight.

Twilight glanced over. Fatigue blanketed a distant gaze. “...hey.”

Wars rested against the cave wall, drawing one knee up and draping his arm across it. He was surprised to see Twilight awake, more surprised the rancher hadn’t simply ‘gone for a run’ or ‘scratched an itch’ as he called it.

Twilight sat cross-legged, left hand fidgeting with the shadow crystal, right hand resting in his lap. The permanent knot in his brow was more evident than usual, his gaze ghostly, as if something were trapped beneath the ice. Wars knew that look anywhere.

“What’re you thinking about?” the captain asked quietly.

Twilight shrugged.

“Alright,” Wars sighed. “Why are you awake?”

Twilight gripped the crystal. “Nightmare,” he murmured.

“About?”

“Why’s it matter?” Twilight asked, a tired glare settling on Wars.

The captain met the look with a scowl of his own. “It matters because we stayed up all night listening to you lose your blessed mind, Twi. You cried the whole night . You pulled a sword on Time. You called him Lord –”

“Shut up,” Twilight hissed.

“No,” Wars argued. “You’re going to tell me–”

Twilight gave the captain a shove. Wars paused, incensed at the meager push. He shoved Twilight back. The rancher turned on him, tackling him to the cave floor. Wars barked in surprise–despite his condition Twilight still outmatched him in physical strength. The two grappled, but for the first time Wars could remember, he managed to get Twilight in a chokehold, keeping the rancher tight to his chest.

“Moblin brain,” Wars huffed. “I’m worried , Twi.”

Twilight melted slightly, falling still with a short sigh. He settled in Wars’ hold, making no move to break free. Wars moved his arms to hold Twilight around the waist in something like a hug. The rancher settled his warmth into the captain, laying his head back on Wars’ shoulder.

“Tired,” Twilight sighed.

“Yeah, me too.”

The rancher chewed his lip for a moment. His fingers found his crystal, brow drawn as he mulled over his answer to Wars’ questions.

“There’s a place in my Hyrule that use t’be a prison,” Twilight answered finally. “Rumor has it there were a mirror there which were a portal straight to the underworld. The people kep’ there…there’s an arena. They made ‘em fight to the death ‘n if they die, they die ‘n if they live long ‘nough they get ex’cuted.”

Wars narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “Stop trying to get out of it.”

Twilight flicked his eyes up before rolling them. “I been there,” he said finally, voice low. “I seen ‘em ‘n I…I feel their hate.” He looked away in shame. “Some things got stuck with me, tha’s all.”

Wars sighed, hugging Twilight a little bit closer. “Did you think you were there?”

Twilight shrugged, his gaze growing further. “Tell me where we are,” he said quietly. “Just to–I gotta be sure.”

Wars nodded. “We’re in the traveler’s time, in a cave.”

Twilight sighed, turning his face away in shame. “That Lord Ganon stuff–I ain’t mean it like that. T’weren’t even me –” He stopped himself, ears reddening in humiliation. “Nevermind,” he mumbled.

The rancher pulled himself free of Wars’ hold, looking around the cave. Wars worried as Twilight found his feet, getting up unsteadily. Malaise settled over the rancher, but he shrugged it off, hobbling a few steps before he found his stride.

“I’m gone wash up,” he said.

Wild stood immediately. “Twi, I’m coming with.”

Twilight glanced over. He gave up a nod. Wars felt useless then–Wild was the only one Twilight allowed near when he found himself in a mood. The captain fidgeted slightly. He knew just as well he could never force Twilight to open up about anything but he just wished the rancher would talk about some things sometimes.

“It’s cold out,” Four warned. He paused, giving up a smile. “Though I’m sure it doesn’t bother you that much.”

Twilight offered a tired smile. “I’ll be fine. Just gotta get all this sweat off m’skin.”

“We’ll keep the fire hot,” Wind offered.

Twilight mussed the sailor’s hair as he passed. “Thanks, li’l buddy.”

Wars folded his arms, a worried frown on his face as Wild and Twilight left the cave and stepped out into the late winter afternoon. He sighed, shuffling his feet before he planted himself at Time’s side again.

The eldest hero still slept, still recovering from a night of terror. The fear had gotten beneath his skin, had gnawed away at his usual defenses. His sleep was light and unfulfilling and Wars watched the man shake and groan in his fitful sleep.

Hyrule and Legend were still outside, though they’d returned once for their coats and mittens. They sat on a flat rock, sitting in silence. Legend was laid out, arms folded under his head and one knee drawn up. Hyrule sat cross-legged with his head ducked, his fingers picking apart blades of grass.

The two looked over as Twilight and Wild emerged from the cave. Twilight offered a sorry smile, his eyes settling on Hyrule in a way that made the traveler pull away involuntarily.

Legend snorted. “You look like molduga dung,” the veteran teased.

Twilight offered a broken smile. “Feel like it too,” he replied. He glanced at Hyrule again. “Rulie I–” He stopped, words failing him. He balled his fists. “I’m sorry. I never–”

Hyrule shook his head. “I’m not ready yet,” he said quietly.

Twilight’s eyes widened before his face fell grim. He nodded, turning away.

“‘Kay,” he agreed. “C’mon cub.”

Wild looked between Hyrule and Twilight, anxious over the discord. Legend hummed, offering his hand out. Hyrule glanced down at it, smiling sadly as it took it with a squeeze to reassure the veteran.

Twilight and Wild found themselves at a small pond. It was far from frozen over, though ice gathered at its edges. Twilight sighed, stripping out of his sweat-soaked pajamas in the crisp winter air. Wild followed suit, putting his hair up in snowquill wraps and downing a spicy elixir to stay warm.

Breath clouding in the air, the heroes entered the frosty pond. Twilight flinched at the cold, but he was warm enough to withstand its bite. With the spicy elixir, the lukewarm temperature made Wild slightly uncomfortable.

Twilight waded across the muddy bottom to the middle of the pond where the water came up to his elbows. He bowed his head, clasping his hands to offer a prayer. He couldn’t feel the presence of a spirit, but he made one up anyway for the comfort of the little ritual.

Wild waited patiently as Twilight meditated through his prayer. Finally the rancher bowed and clapped, ending his one-sided conversation.

“Take it easy,” Wild said quietly.

Twilight glanced back curiously, but nodded as the champion washed his back for him. Wild insisted on washing Twilight’s hair and Twilight couldn’t deny that it felt nice. The champion rubbed his knuckles against the older hero’s scalp, giving him a head massage the way he’d learned in Gerudo Town.

Wild said nothing when Twilight’s guard fell enough for the rancher to cry. Twilight bowed his head, splashing his face with icy water in an effort to smother his emotions. It was too late though, the dam broke and the exhaustive agony which plagued Twilight escaped.

It was grief–Wild was familiar with the sound of it. Twilight rarely spoke to the champion of his curse, but Wild knew Twilight mourned memories which weren’t his. The shadows showed him things–whispers, visions–and Twilight never knew what was real and what was just his imagination driving him into insanity.

Wild drew his hands away when Twilight tensed. It was a sign that he needed to gather himself, parse through what sensations he could take in. He was overwhelmed easily at times like that, so the champion stood by as Twilight closed his eyes, tipped his head up, and experienced the world around him one step at a time.

The air smelled cold and clean, the water nipped at his reddening skin. He could feel the warmth of sunlight cutting through the winter afternoon and heard the wind moaning between the barren trees.

“I’m here,” Twilight said finally. “You ‘n me are in Rulie’s time, ‘n it’s winter ‘n I’m gettin’ cold,” Twilight offered.

Wild smiled. “Ready for some warm milk?”

Twilight glanced back, pushing his hand through his hair. “In a minute,” he answered. “I jus’–the cold’s helpin’.”

Wild agreed with a nod. The two remained in the pond for several more minutes until finally, Twilight turned. His face was red with emotion, shoulders pink in the cold. He and Wild left the pond, layering themselves up again and hurrying to the warmth of the fire burning in the cave.

Chapter Text

He only needed to bury them again. The taste of blood in his mouth, the scent of it on the air. Twilight tried not to savor it, but it set something wild and primal in him on edge and a flutter of excitement played in his gut. Sand on his tongue, sand in his eyes. Rusty weapons sparking against one another, gouged wooden shields splintering. If his weapon broke, he only needed to recover one from any of the bodies littering the field.

How many times had he died and how many ways. A bear ripping his side out, a sword cutting his belly open. Spears through the heart, pikes through the throat. Bludgeoning–the edges of shields beat into his skull over and over and over again . Sometimes there was something more peaceful like starvation or illness or dehydration but Twilight preferred the quick deaths to the torture of his body slowly giving up on him.

And then, there were executions. Not many–few made it so far. Chains heavy on a starved body, holding him down to the floor. Dressed in little more than rags, his bruises and cuts and scars on display for the six sages who stared down at him with arrogance in their faces. They were chosen by the gods, they said. Well so was he. Lord Ganondorf had chosen him.

His muscles yearned for the cool rush of energy the shadows allowed. His flesh needed to be replenished with its crawl of power. He could feel its grip around his bones, cloaking his heart, bringing him into something greater than himself.

And then the shadows ate and they devoured everything. As Twilight tasted power, it tasted him too. But it was all in service to the King of Power, the man who spit in the face of gods and their chosen pawns alike and would usher in freedom and glory.

If the shadows swallowed him whole, Twilight wished for his body to nourish his lord.

But then there was the Sword of Six Sages. A sword constructed of light, its edges burned like a lightning strike and its point pierced through all. Chained, held down by cowards who were scared they weren’t chosen well enough to defeat their prisoners, the sword was pushed into his chest.

Even dying, he would never honor them with his scream.

And when they were done with him, if he didn’t die immediately, his body was drawn into the darkness where he withered into little more than a wraith.

How many times did Twilight take up a mantle of vengeance, dooming himself to roam the chambers of a prison lost in time, buried in sand, for all eternity. Abandoned by man, abandoned by the goddess who left her precious chosen fools behind, the wraiths howled and moaned and waited. They were hungry. They would feed.

Twilight opened his eyes to the flicker of firelight. The sun set early this time of year, and outside of the fire’s dance, the cave was dark. The others were gathered, chatting quietly amongst themselves.

“Pup,” Time said in mild greeting.

Twilight glanced up at the eldest hero. Time stood over him, a look of worry on his face. Twilight sighed, lowering his gaze. He didn’t deserve Time’s sympathy. Still, the other man settled down next to him, folding his arms.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked quietly.

Time sighed. “That’s my line,” he replied.

Twilight shook his head softly. “You stay up with me las’ night. I’m…M’sorry for whatever ‘em shadows done to you. I hope it weren’t too bad.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Time offered, failing to admit that his experience overnight was certainly a contender.

“That don’t comfort me any,” Twilight offered in a quiet chuckle.

Time smiled, reaching out and squeezing Twilight’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Time offered. “You had me worried there for a while.”

Twilight nodded, rubbing his left bicep. “It’s never been so bad,” he murmured. .”The black blood’s gettin’ ‘er riled up, I think. I oughta start asking Sky for help more of’en.”

Time nodded, chewing his lip for a moment. “Twilight I–”

He stopped, glancing at Twilight. The rancher’s eyes were on him, cautious curiosity in them. He already knew what Time wanted from him, but he was going to make the elder hero say it out loud first. Time faltered. When were Twilight’s eyes so big? When did he ever look so young?

“I’d like an explanation,” Time said finally through a measured breath.

Twilight nodded, looking down at his hands. He kneaded his right palm, pinching his brow in thought. When he lifted his gaze, he saw the others acting as if they weren’t listening.

The rancher sighed, standing up. He moved to the fire, sitting down next to Wild. The champion offered a supportive smile. Time sat next to Twilight on the other side, tenting his fingers against his face in thought.

“Y’all know I got a curse object on my quest,” Twilight offered. “Well it–it’ll let you eat, but it gone bite back in return. Anyone who ever use it, who ever got its boon–bits’a them still in there. It plants a li’l taste of ‘em in whoever take it on, ‘n it takes som’thin’ in return.” Twilight frowned, rubbing his face. “So I got ghosts in me,” he said quietly. “Angry ones, scared ones. They worship Ganon when he got ex’cuted ‘n banished to their realm.”

Legend frowned. “Is that why you said Lord Ganon earlier?”

Twilight nodded, rubbing his brow. “Yeah–it ain’t me. They–” He hesitated. Fear on his face, reluctance in the way he fidgeted. The rancher looked painfully vulnerable. “When the ghosts wake up, they show me things ‘n tell me things. They’re stuck in time, they don’t know no better ‘n so I get lost in their mem’ries ‘n I–sometimes I become them a li’l bit. Like a vessel. They get me all mixed up.”

Time drew his frown tight. “Pup, if it’s in you, then what did it take?”

Twilight’s eyes widened. His face harrowed, he let out a tense sigh. “I…I dunno,” he admitted. “That’s just it–it's been taken from me.”

The others were visibly disturbed. Legend and Time the most so among them. Time wanted to grab Twilight in a hug and never let go and Legend wanted to maim the thing which hurt Twilight. Wild reached over, taking Twilight’s hands in his, giving the rancher a squeeze. Twilight squeezed back weakly.

Four knit his brow. “Why wouldn’t you tell us about it?” he asked.

Twilight shook his head, keeping his face down to avoid looking at them. “I’m sorry,” he said, avoiding the question.

“Twi,” Wars said, “you can tell us.”

Twilight shook his head. “No I can’t,” he said quietly.

“Why not?” Sky asked.

Twilight hugged himself. “‘Cuz y’all–” He fell short, gritting his teeth.

He hated that they could see him then, that he had to explain himself. He never wanted to answer questions, he never wanted to let them in so far. They were seeing him for what he was, they were judging him for it. He couldn’t bear to face their jury, to hear their determinations.

Time settled a hand on Twilight’s back. “Pup–”

“No,” Twilight hissed. “I said all’s I’m gone say ‘bout it.”

He was visibly afraid, though Sky worried he was afraid of them . But the words the chosen hero wanted to say didn’t exist or he didn’t know them if he did. Instead he stood and wrapped his arms around Twilight, drawing him into a hug.

Twilight tensed. He didn’t hug back, but he didn’t fight the embrace either way. Sky gave him one warm squeeze before releasing him.

Twilight wiped at a damp eye, flicking a guilty gaze towards Hyrule. “Listen, trav, I’m real sorry ‘bout earlier. It ain’t like that ‘n I…I never wanna hurt you.” He shook his head. “Not that…not that words really do much as it is but I’m sorry anyway,” Twilight mumbled.

Hyrule nodded. “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly. “I know you weren’t yourself.” He squeezed himself. “I just–I just needed some space. I’m not mad at you, and I wasn’t mad at you then either. I was just…I was scared .”

Twilight nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “You got the right t’be.”

“So do you,” Wars cut in, leveling Twilight with a look. “This isn’t about rights and blame. This is about you hiding again. We want to help you , Twi. We can’t do that if you keep this stuff from us.”

Twilight drew back into himself. I don’t want your help , he wanted to say. I can’t be that burden . But he couldn’t get the words out because it was only a lie.

“I can’t ‘spect that of y’all,” Twilight said instead, voice quiet.

“Why not?” Wind asked. “We’re all telling you we wanna help.”

“Yeah,” Four agreed. “We’re asking because we want to, Twi.”

“It’s not an obligation,” Wars sighed. “What do you always say when you help us? You said you made a choice. So let us make ours too, okay?”

Twilight nodded, trying to ignore the glimmer of warmth in his chest. It was the sort of joy he hadn’t felt in years. He felt wanted, he felt like he was being brought in rather than forced out. He felt understood for the first time since Midna broke the mirror.

He couldn’t find the words, but it didn’t matter because he wept so openly he would never be able to get them out. The others sighed warmly, piling onto the rancher in one big hug. Twilight sobbed in the middle of his brothers, letting their presence heal him.

Chapter Text

Twilight was still up. Exhaustion was visible on the man’s features. It brought out a crease beneath his eyes, a faint scar along his cheek, made his already dark markings darker as a black shadow danced on the wall behind him. He had that gloomy sort of look on his face he took when he spaced off, and that beastly shine in his eyes caught the firelight menacingly when he wasn’t actively softening his own gaze.

He worked in his journal, drawing quietly. Graphite stained the outside of his left hand and the pads of his fingers. Every so often, he licked them to smudge his lines or shading. The work was focused, almost manic. Wars just wished Twilight would talk to one of them about whatever plagued him.

“If Time can go to bed,” the captain scolded, “so can you.”

Twilight glanced up. His face was dry from the tears he shed, nose and outside of his eyes raw. He licked his chapped lips, giving up a shrug.

“S’early for me,” he answered.

Wars scoffed. “You hardly slept last night, you didn’t sleep today–you’ve been crying too, Twi. You need some rest.”

“‘N I’ll get it,” Twilight sighed, annoyed with Wars’ hovering. “Will you just sit your blessed baba down ‘fore I kick your legs out? Hate it when you stand o’er me like that.”

Wars sighed, rolling his eyes. The captain conceded anyway, sitting next to Twilight, glancing at the pages of his journal. Cats–all over the pages, there were cats. Most of them were about the length of Wars’ thumb, but some were a touch larger. One sat on its hind legs and batted at a piece of grass. Another rolled on its back, paws stretched out to display a fluffy belly. A cluster of angry kittens occupied one corner of the page, a fat tabby was hidden under the rancher’s right hand.

“I think some people would call that unhealthy,” Wars remarked teasingly.

Twilight hummed. “Better’n poetry. ‘Least people like cats.”

“And what cat are you drawing now…”

The captain’s voice trailed off as he leaned in to see Twilight’s current work. The rancher’s face reddened, he drew the journal away. It was too late–Wars had seen it. A hand, left with a triforce on its back, held with a shackle about the wrist. The skin was cracked, beads of blood seeping from the raw flesh beneath the cuff. The nails were broken, the fingers blistered.

“Twi,” Wars sighed in quiet worry.

“S’nothing,” Twilight answered.

“Clearly not,” Wars huffed. He folded his arms. “Look, I’ve seen worse, Twi. Let me help you through it, alright? It’s normal to be upset about the things we’ve seen–”

“It ain’t real,” Twilight hissed.

Wars drew his brow. “If you believed that, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

Twilight’s frown drew tight, frustration in his features.

Wars softened. “It’s a lot to shoulder, Link. Just tell me about it. Not even all of it, if you’d rather not, just whatever that is.”

Twilight sighed, closing the journal with a soft slam. He felt the leather beneath his fingers, eyed the graphite staining his skin.

“Y’know I got that cuff on my wrist when I’m a wolf,” Twilight said finally. “If it ain’t for that then maybe I’d…maybe it’d be easy to ignore all this mess. But I know what it feels like. I know what prison feels like, what it’s like to be cold ‘n hungry ‘n thirsty. They left me down there t’rot, y’know, ‘n I only get out ‘cuz someone else thought I’d be useful ‘nough.”

“You’ve never told me about that,” Wars encouraged, gentle concern in his voice.

Twilight frowned, turning his face down. “Right at the start’f my quest. Right after I…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Don’t matter, it’s o’er with.”

“You were scared.”

“Mm. Still get–still get nightmares ‘bout it. Sometimes, even when I ain’t Wolfie I can feel it.” Twilight frowned, rubbing his wrist. “S’got a weight. Rubs on my skin. You seen it when you help me wash up.”

Wars nodded, frowning as he recalled the skin beneath the shackle. Often when he bathed Wolfie, he found the skin toughened if not cracked, the fur worn bald there. Four offered to remove it, Twilight refused. Despite the suffering it brought him, it carried some significance he never spoke of.

“‘N since I can feel that,” Twilight sighed in reservation, “I feel them too. They’s bad people, but they were…” Twilight fell quiet for a moment. “They were misled. ‘N sometimes I gotta wonder if it’s wrong’a me to have sympathy for the devil.”

Wars nodded, folding his hands between his knees. “You’re okay though,” Wars offered softly. “You’re not under arrest, you’re not imprisoned.” He shook his head. “And I don’t think it’s wrong to pity your enemy. I think that’s just a testament of your kindness, rancher. You’ve got a big heart–that’s why it hurts so bad.”

“Y’think so?” Twilight asked quietly. “I think it’s just ‘cuz I were a dumb kid who thought I were better’n a thousand souls gone ‘fore me. All I ever see’s their suff’ring ‘n it coulda been mine too if I were alone then.” Twilight raised his head. “The worse thing they done to me–they ask me for help,” Twilight confessed.

Wars frowned. “Help?” he pressed.

Twilight nodded, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “They beg , cap’n.” Twilight sniffed, pinching his nose between his hands. “Breaks my heart.”

Wars drew Twilight to his side. “Lots of people died for me, Twi. I hear them too when I’m sleeping, or some days when it all gets the better of me I can see them on the horizon or hear them and it–it’s suffocating. You know how many attempts people have made to kill me since the war ended?” Wars snorted. “More than I’m comfortable with. I don’t have anything I can offer you except my shoulder, but I find that ghosts fade away when we talk about them. They don’t keep that much power over you if you bring them into the light.”

Twilight looked over, searching Wars before he gave up a meager nod.

Wars smiled supportively. “So when they start rattling their chains,” Wars said, “I want you to tell me about them. Show them to me, alright? They don’t like to be seen.”

Twilight settled the top of his head against Wars’ chest. The captain’s eyes widened a touch at the sudden tenderness. Twilight closed his eyes, hearing his brother's heartbeat, feeling his chest rise and fall.

“Do the same for me,” Twilight said quietly. “When they come for you too.”

“Sure,” Wars agreed warmly.

Twilight felt Wars’ warmth through his hair, the vibration of the man speaking in his face. He wasn’t rotting or thrown in a dark hole to die. The sword he carried was to fight for the good in the world, not to build a pile of bodies to raise himself up. He sought no glory, no throne, just a hunt and he could choose his prey.

Wars smiled softly as the rancher’s weight gave into him, Twilight falling asleep against his chest. The captain drew Twilight into his arms, tucking the rancher’s head under his chin. He took a handful of Twilight’s thick hair, his other warm tightly wrapped about the man’s shoulders. For a moment, the world gave them respite.

Chapter Text

It was all so familiar . A heavy warmth like he was smothered beneath the blankets of his bed in Hateno. The smell of fresh grass and a summer wind and the faint musty smell of goats. The soft twill of homespun fabric, the way it gathered against his hand. A strong heartbeat, deep breaths.

Wild stirred in the rancher’s arms, drawing his face from the man’s chest. He woke groggily, confused for a moment on where he was. He lifted his eyes to the cave ceiling, the roots which broke through from the ground above blurry in the morning haze. Wild screwed his eyes shut, taking in a sharp breath through his nose.

He moved, sitting up right, pawing at his face. Twilight’s arms settled around the champion’s hips, still holding him loosely. Wild sighed, pushing his hand through Twilight’s hair.

It was something which carried over from Wolfie, though Wild wasn’t sure the rancher was aware. The slight pet made Twilight pin his shoulders back and point his toes in one long stretch which made his whole body shake and a soft noise escaped his throat.

And then he settled once more, burying his nose into the bedroll, pushing Wild’s pillow away. Twilight usually slept on his stomach, often without a pillow and frequently kicked his blanket off throughout the night.

Wild snickered. The champion drew the rancher’s thin blanket back over the man. He turned, intending to get up, but found himself drawn back in.

Twilight squeezed the champion like a stuffed animal, holding him protectively under his arm. Wild truly felt like a cub then, pinned under his older brother until it was time to rise and hunt.

“Twi,” Wild whispered.

Twilight’s face scrunched.

Wild rolled his eyes, squirming. Twilight fought back. The champion froze when one of Twilight’s eyes opened, settling an icy glare on the boy. A warning look, telling Wild to settle down or face the rancher’s grouchiness. Even Wild wasn’t spared Twilight’s temper when he was woken up.

“Let go,” Wild complained. “I’m thirsty–”

Twilight grumbled something akin to shut up .

Wild huffed, pinching the rancher’s ear. Twilight’s eyes both opened, frosty ire in his gaze. Wild simply patted the man’s cheek.

“I’m getting up. Go back to sleep.”

Twilight held fast. “Li’l longer,” he grumbled.

“No, it’s already past sunrise–”

A yelp left Wild as Twilight jerked him back down and flopped on top of him. Wild groaned with a roll of his eyes, pushing at Twilight uselessly as the rancher fell asleep again on top of his cub.

Wild patted his hand across the ground, finding Twilight’s waterskin. He drew it in, wet his fingers and–

One of the more colorful swears Twilight knew escaped him in a snarl.

Wild set a firm look on Twilight as the rancher opened his eyes in anger.

“I’m gone throw you back in whatever shrine you crawl out of,” Twilight spit.

Wild rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic. C’mon, heel.”

Twilight pushed Wild’s face to the side under his palm, squishing the boy’s cheeks between the floor and his hand. A ramble of incoherent twang left the rancher, but Wild knew he was ranting about ‘not being a dog’ again.

Wild drew one knee up, pushing at Twilight’s gut with his foot. Twilight cursed to himself as he sat upright, letting Wild free.

<Thank you> Wild signed in exaggerated annoyance.

Twilight ignored him, flopping back over onto his side. He was asleep again within seconds, curled up with Wild’s pillow in his arms. Wild sighed, digging through his pack. He swapped out the pillow with a sand seal plush. Twilight took to the toy immediately, snuggling up to it.

Wild grinned–he took the time to snap a quick picture on his slate.

The champion set water to warm at the fire to wash his face. He sat nearby, watching the water slowly heat as he finger combed through his hair. Twilight hated when he used his hands to pull knots out, or rather, tear them out, but Wild had little patience for using a proper hairbrush and less patience to have help with it.

“Ah,” Time laughed as he came back into the cave, “you escaped.”

Wild glanced up curiously. The eldest hero was already washed and ready for the day. He had a map folded in one hand.

Time caught his look. “I climbed up top just to scout a little,” Time explained. “I’ll check with Hy and Wars when they get up, but we’re not in any rush.” Time’s eyes moved to Twilight. “I’m glad he’s sleeping in.”

Wild nodded. “Wish he snored less,” he laughed.

Time chuckled, sitting down next to the champion. He offered a washcloth, which Wild gladly used to wet his face and neck with warm water. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, a bit of dry drool from his chin, and cleaned his ears.

Wild’s cleaning slowed for a moment. “I’m glad he’s…I’m happy to have him back,” he said quietly, his voice fading as if he were losing it.

Time smiled warmly, mussing Wild’s hair. “Me too, cub.”

<I’ll make his pumpkin soup for dinner> Wild signed. <And he’ll want to go out on his own. He’s got that look and it’s been a few days.>

“Very well,” Time agreed. “He deserves space if he wants it.”

Wild paused as Time drew the boy into a side hug.

“Thank you for your help, cub,” Time said quietly. “I’m not sure if we’d have gotten through the night without you.”

Wild shook his head, frowning. <I didn’t do anything. You stayed up all night with him. I could hardly stand to be close.>

“You’ve been through this before,” Time offered. “Let someone else do the work for a change. You deserve to rest too.”

Wild faltered, but he gave up a nod after a moment. Time sighed, smiling as the champion leaned into him, wrapping his arms around the elder hero’s chest. Time hugged Wild loosely–too tightly and the boy got anxious, he knew.

“He’s done so much for me,” Wild mumbled. “And he doesn’t even know it yet. He’s saved my life more times than I can count and even still when I get all messed up or get lost in a memory, he’s always there for me.” Wild shook his head slightly. “I just wanna return the favor sometimes.”

“You give him something to care about,” Time said. “I think that’s more than enough sometimes.”

Wild paused, but then nodded, frowning. He tucked his face into Time’s chest for a moment, a long sigh leaving him. The champion drew away, rising to get changed into his usual clothes.

As he stood, the pile of other heroes stirred and moved. Wind and Four both emerged from the pile, wrestling their way free of Sky and Hyrule. Time rolled his eyes over a smile when he saw the boys’ bedhead.

The air had settled, warmth between the heroes once more. As the sun rose over the forest, its pale light breached the cave. The dark had passed, the light would persist.