Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If somebody asked Wind what he thought of Skyloft, he would probably talk their ear off for a solid half hour, then come back ten minutes later for more.

First off, it was in the sky? Just floating there? It was like something straight out of his Grandma’s stories, only bigger and tangible and wow.

And very high up.

The thin air had admittedly been a bit of a stumbling point – for everyone except Sky, that is, who had never seemed more revitalised than when he stepped out of the portal and got his first lungful of, quote, ‘proper air’.

But it was a quick fix, with the sky knight sharing his spare bottle of air potion with only a smidge of restrained vindication. One quick jaunt to the Bazaar later, and now they all had their own little vial of perpetually bubbling miracle juice, the instructions to take more if they got light-headed, and a newfound respect for Sky’s ability to not rub the turned tables in their collective faces. So it was probably fine.

The point remained, they were floating. In the sky.

Awesome.

Secondly, even if they weren’t on a floating island (in the sky!), there was so much to see.

Every building was a cluster of vibrant paint and coloured glass – it was like no matter where you looked was a work of art. It almost didn’t feel real, to have a place be so relentlessly pretty.

Not to mention the view.

Don’t get him wrong, Wind was of the firm belief that nothing beat the sunrise over a calm sea, dusky rose and molten gold stretching past the endless horizon. But he had to admit, the way the sunlight played over the clouds from up here came pretty close.

Not that he could see it at the moment, but still!

It’d been late afternoon when they first emerged through the most recent portal – the rest of the day promptly swept up in the bustle of settling in, eating something substantial, meeting various people-

(Wind was going to find out what about Headmaster Gaepora kept making Time’s face go on such subtle but incredible journeys if it killed him.)

-And getting a quick tour of the Knight Academy, the only place large enough to house them all on such short notice.

Although they did end up having to commandeer a classroom. And spend a significant amount of time hauling furniture around to clear space; something that would’ve gone much quicker if someone (Legend) hadn’t splintered a chair leg and gotten all use of strength-enhancing items banned.

Wind hefting a massive table clean above his head and nearly taking out a window had nothing to do with it, and he was standing by that no matter how much the veteran insisted otherwise.

By the time everything had calmed down a bit, it was well into the evening, and everyone had agreed (or been firmly told) it was best to stick close until they could – as Sky delicately put it – see. The edges of the island.

Besides, it wasn’t like they were desperate for entertainment, especially after Sky’s Zelda had burst in and practically tackled him midway through rearranging tables.

(“You’re back!”

Sky stumbled for a moment before he regained his balance, his whole being brightening in a moment at the sound of the girl’s voice. He whipped around, barely taking the time to confirm who it was before he was hugging her back with a disbelieving laugh.

“How did you get here so fast?! Your father only just sent the message, I thought we’d have to wait until tomorrow!”

She laughed as well, plainly giddy with joy. “Like I’d let a little thing like the dark stop me! I’m not gonna wait and let Groose get to you first, what’s the point of being in a relationship if I don’t get dibs?”

Sky pulled back slightly to look at her face, grinning.

“Dibs?”

Zelda gave a blinding smile, then leaned in to press a kiss, soft and sweet, against his lips.

“Dibs,” she declared as she pulled away, resting her head on his shoulder again.

“Missed you, sleepyhead.”

Sky let out a happy hum, burying his face in her hair as they lightly swayed back and forth – ignoring the light-hearted wolf-whistles and teasing calls from the others.

“Missed you more.”)

Sky’s Zelda was, among many other things, a complete and utter delight, and Wind already adored her.

Even if she and Sky were borderline disgusting around each other.

They were probably off being gag-worthy somewhere together now, joined at the hip and tittering like gulls. Good for them, but – and Wind meant this with all the love and affection in the world – eugh.

That was their problem, though. Wind had much more important things to be worrying about.

It was a new day, meaning that they were all free to take advantage of the unexpected rest day and explore Skyloft at their own leisure. For Wind, that meant poking around the Bazaar properly, the giant tent brimming with unique sights and smells to capture his interest.

And it had, for the better part of an hour; so far he’d dropped by all the market stalls, stuck his head into every tucked away corner, gotten his fortune read by a man with frankly enormous and stunningly blue eyes, watched Four make it his life goal to become best friends with the resident blacksmith, found a dropped rupee, and considered the logistics of... ‘acquiring’ one of the stained glass lamps strung from the ceiling.

(The risk outweighed the reward, unfortunately, especially for something that he’d inevitably be forced to return before the day was out.)

So now he was taking a break, sitting at one of the tables off to the side and kicking his legs idly – attention split between his half-finished mug of soup and people-watching.

Well. Person-watching.

Person-watching Warriors, to be specific.

The captain was at that one booth with the kinda crabby lady who’d barely even acknowledged Wind when he’d approached himself. This in itself wouldn’t be that interesting, were it not for the fact that Wars was, well. Wars.

Even Legend had to admit the man was weirdly handsome.

And annoyingly charismatic.

And – most importantly – able and willing to hold lengthy conversations on the most boring topics known to man.

Wind couldn’t for the life of him work out why, but if Warriors wanted to spend his life chatting about stuff like banisters or whatever, all the more power to him, he guessed. Even if he was pretty sure that counted as the captain using his ‘look at me I’m so nice and charming’ smile for evil.

Either way, in the ten or so minutes since Wind had started watching, the girl had gone from slumped and thoroughly disinterested, barely grunting out snipped off answers, to… well.

She was definitely looking at him now, to say the least.

Wind blamed the laugh. It was nothing like Warriors’ actual laugh, a loud and barking thing, but even his much more restrained ‘polite conversation’ chuckle tended to draw attention – albeit in a much different way.

It had successfully gotten the woman to look up, at the very least; which had then lead to her properly contributing to the conversation and answering questions, then smiling at him, then laughing – on and on until she was practically fluttering her lashes, chin propped up in her hands as she leaned across the counter with a flush that was noticeable from even where Wind was sitting.

The difference was fascinating, to be honest.

They were all aware of what Twilight had dubbed the ‘Warriors Effect’ – coined due to the captain’s ongoing habit of leaving a trail of dazzled strangers in his wake with seemingly zero effort or intent, just by pure virtue of being himself.

But never before had someone fallen victim so quickly, or thoroughly. It was incredible.

And the best part was the fact that, for all intents and purposes, Warriors appeared to be thoroughly oblivious.

How, Wind had no clue.

The conversation had gone on for long enough that it had firmly surpassed the ‘polite inquiry about someone’s work’ threshold - meaning that they were now squarely within ‘genuinely interested in the topic’ territory, which.

Okay, Wind hated to acknowledge it, but he knew what Warriors flirting looked like. The man did it gleefully and without shame whenever he pleased, delighting in the good-natured fun of laying on the honeyed charm.

This was not that.

This was the captain, for reasons known only to himself, legitimately happy to discuss the intricacies of an item check. At length.

Which, side note, come on, Wars, really?

The point was, the goo-goo eyes his brother was currently being subjected to wasn’t intentional on his part, and was in fact just a rampant case of the Warriors Effect in full force.

A tragedy, really. Yet another innocent soul lost to whatever it was about the captain that made people lose all better judgement.

(Twilight generally just grimaced, reluctantly muttering something about how, around other people, Warriors tended to be polite, kind, and – said with a face like he’d sucked a lemon – unfortunately pretty about it.

Legend liked to call it an ‘epidemic of poor taste’.

Hyrule called it ‘fucking hilarious’, an opinion Wind was generally inclined to agree with.)

The woman tittered out a laugh in response to something Warriors said, just audible over the hubbub of the markets and pitched in that special way that made it extremely obvious just how flustered she was feeling. A hand even came up to twirl one blonde-tipped pigtail, just to tip it all off.

Now, Warriors wasn’t stupid. Far from it, in fact.

But – and this was a very important but – he could be painfully single-minded.

It was great for when he needed to hunker down and think of five different strategies and twelve more backup plans; less great when it meant he would be so intently focused on sketching diagrams into the dirt that he wouldn’t notice the various scraps of fabric being tied to his scarf, right up until he would stand up and inevitably trip on the comically long monstrosity.

Four times. And at least two of them he genuinely didn’t notice, rather than just indulging their fun.

And this? This was rapidly shaping up to be a ‘ten-metre-long-plus-at-least-one-branch-and-potentially-a-squirrel scarf’ type of situation.

Which meant that only one question remained.

Wind took a long sip of his soup, eyes never once leaving the shipwreck in action.

Was Warriors aware of how his conversation partner was halfway to proposing on the spot, and just ignoring it in the hopes that it would resolve itself?

Or – and Wind hoped so bad it was this one, it’d be so funny – was he somehow, against all odds, completely and utterly oblivious to the single least subtle attempt at flirting ever conceived?

The girl’s face looked like it was going to combust at this rate, the poor thing. Wind was also going to die of second-hand embarrassment, but that was neither here nor there.

How was Four doing, actually, it had to be less painful than this. The sailor leaned back in his chair to catch a glimpse of the blacksmith’s stall, where the other boy had been holed up for a good hour now.

Yep, still there, practically bouncing on his heels as the resident smithy just as enthusiastically explained something to do with a wrench. At least he seemed to be having fun.

Wind turned his attention back to the item check just in time to catch the clerk drape herself across the counter even further. Ugh, blegh-

Warriors took a small step back, shoulders going up for a split second before he was once more the picture of casual friendliness.

Gotcha.

Well, that settled that. The captain was a masochist, both for initiating the conversation and for sticking around for long enough for this whole mess to devolve the way it had.

He briefly considered bailing Warriors out, but, well. Clearly the man was trying to get something out of it. What, exactly, Wind had no clue, but surely there had to be some motivator for him to subject himself to this even somewhat willingly.

He’d better come out of that conversation with the meaning of life or some bullshit, because Wind couldn’t think of any other conceivable scenario where getting drooled over would be worth it.

Either way, the captain had done this to himself. And could easily leave at any moment! Literally nothing was keeping him there, not even that ‘societal convention’ and ‘basic etiquette’ he liked to tote around so much!

You don’t hang a hammock you wouldn’t be willing to sleep in, as Gonzo would say.

If you can talk yourself into a corner, you can damn well talk yourself back out of it, according to Senza.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, in the wise words of Tetra.

Warriors could handle himself. And Wind didn’t feel sorry for him in the slightest, so there.

He downed the rest of his soup and hopped down from his stool, leaving his mug on the table along with a few rupees. Right, that was his entertainment done, then – it was no fun watching the captain be dumb if he was doing it on purpose.

Hopefully if anything particularly interesting happened with Warriors’… situation, it’d be dramatic enough for even Four to notice. And subsequently give him all the details of, since the other didn’t seem to be planning on leaving anytime soon.

For him, however, the Bazaar didn’t really have anything left to offer, so that was Wind’s cue to leave.

He weaved through the market-goers easily, only to slow as he approached one of the marquee’s entrances – eventually just pausing in the tent-flap doorway.

Okay.

He stared at the bright light spilling in from outside, just past the toes of his shoes, then glanced at the canvas ceiling stretched over his head.

Okay.

He’d had an hour. That was long enough to get over it.

The sailor took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and stepped into the light.

If somebody asked, Wind really did like Skyloft. It was as pretty as ever outside, bright and cheerful in the morning sun, and the breeze was cool and fresh – the island was just begging to be explored, really.

He loved it here. It reminded him of home, in some weird way. It was just, well…

A shadow passed overhead, and Wind balled his hands into fists in an effort to keep from flinching.

There was just one integral aspect of Skyloft that he could really do without.

They’d all been there when Sky introduced them to the other half of his soul – it’d been hard to miss, what with the whole flinging himself off the island thing, only to reappear a couple moments later on top of a fuck off massive bird.

Wind liked to think he’d handled it rather well, all things considered. He’d stayed calm, definitely did not stab it, and even obligingly ooh-ed and aah-ed along with the others.

And if he’d hung back while the others were taking turns petting the thing, well. That was nobody’s business but his own.

More importantly, nobody had seemed to notice his trepidation, and Wind would very much like to keep it that way.

Which meant that his stupid brain needed to uphold its end of the bargain, and get over the loftwings already.

They were on Skyloft. Where there were loftwings. It was in the name.

Honestly.

He glanced up as he descended some steps, only to be immediately drawn out of his thoughts by the sight of a flying… house? Thing?

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Wind asked quietly.

It was- how was it flying? Was it the propellors? Because there was no way those things were keeping the entire house-ship-thing airborne; and yet, there it was, lazily circling the Bazaar.

How was anyone even supposed to get up there?

He wanted up. How did he get up?

He couldn’t see any convenient ladders or rope, even when he squinted, but there was a hefty-looking bell hanging from the base, swaying slightly in the breeze. Maybe ring it and the house-ship would come down?

Slight problem with that course of action: Wind didn’t have anything to ring it with. They’d all decided to leave their stuff safe in the Academy, since they’d been assured that Skyloft was (relatively) monster-free.

Which was a shame, because he could really use his boomerang right now. Or his grappling hook, or bow, or anything, really.

The bell glinted tantalisingly. A quick scan of the ground bore no convenient rocks to test his aim with.

Dammit.

“I’m coming back for you,” Wind threatened, as he pointed an accusing finger at the ship.

It didn’t seem to notice.

He pulled a face up at it.

There was a flash of movement in his peripheries, successfully drawing his attention away from the flying house-thing to the skies beyond.

If there were more of these things around, he swore to Valoo’s bitten ass-

Oh.

Wind swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

That was…

That was a lot of birds.

He stared dumbly, unable to drag his eyes away from the lazily circling loftwings high above the island.

A few weeks back, Twilight had pointed out a hawk to him while they were taking a quick rest break. It’d been so still, hanging in the air – but they’d had the perfect vantage point to watch it drop out of its glide like a stone, only diving for a scant few seconds before it was soaring back up with a field-mouse clutched in its talons.

The rancher had rambled off something about its vision and flight feathers, eyes bright, but Wind had barely heard him. He could only watch the bird fly off, prey caught, and wonder how the mouse felt.

Something told him he could wager a guess, all of a sudden.

There had to be a dozen, at least. One dipped away from the group, only to reappear a few moments later with a figure casually perched on its back.

It would be easy for one to peel off, to plummet down, to-

Wind forced himself to lower his gaze, intently focusing on a sprig of grass poking through the flagstones by his feet. He took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to ignore how it trembled on the way in.

There was a tightness in his chest that kept catching on his ribs – he blindly patted down his pockets until he found the one the air potion vial had been carelessly shoved into, withdrawing it to fumble with the cork.

“St-stupid altitude,” he hissed to himself.

Yeah, that had to be it. The height had to be messing with his head, making his thoughts dizzy.

The cork finally came free, and he took a generous swig of the contents. It helped, a little – the extra air made him feel a bit less jittery, eased the vice around his lungs.

He took another measured breath, feeling it smoothly fill his chest.

Better.

How Sky lived like this every day, he had no clue.

The re-stoppered vial was pocketed once more as Wind continued to breathe, nice and steady. Big fan of oxygen, he was. Loved how it kept him alive. Easily had to be one of the top ten favourite things to have in his lungs.

Top five, even.

He chanced another glance upwards, only to decide that the river cutting through the island was much more interesting to look at, actually.

Okay then.

“They’re just seagulls,” he told himself firmly, forcing his leaden feet to continue along the path. “Oversized seagulls. Y-you-“

Breathe. It was just the altitude. “You can tell Aryll all about them. It’ll be great.”

They were just seagulls. He saw flocks of them all the time, on the ocean. It was fine then, it’s fine now.

‘Doesn’t the circling usually mean that’s where a big octo is, though?’, part of his brain pointed out wryly.

‘Shut your damn mouth’, the rest of it replied.

Wind refused to let a bunch of feathery bastards ruin this for him. He was going to explore, he was gonna have fun, and he was gonna be fine.

The sailor ducked under an overhang arching over the path, marching through determinedly – he didn’t need to acknowledge how being under cover made him feel safer, because he didn’t need to feel safe. Because. He was fine.

The brief stutter in his step was from a stray pebble, that’s all. It was just coincidence that it happened just as he stepped back out into the open.

They were just seagulls.

…Would a Hyoi Pear-

Nope, thinking about literally anything other than that, thank you very much. Like…

He cast his eyes around for a proper distraction, because otherwise he was going to start thinking about field-mice again, and Wind really didn’t need that right now.

Ooh, wait, actually; there, bridging the river just before it spilled over the edge of the island, a row of solid outcroppings poking up from the water. Flat-topped, only slightly precarious, and perfect for hopping across.

The waterfall into the open sky below them was a little intimidating, but Wind had spent too long skipping over the similar stepping-stone rocks back on Outset to falter now. Sure, there was a difference between a dunk in the ocean and being washed into the cloudy abyss, but that was a problem for him only if he tripped like a doofus, so. Eh.

It was just a simple one-hop, two – a pause to stare at the water rushing below, glimmering and inviting in a way he knew far better than to trust by now – then a three-four-five-and-done. Easy-peasy.

Maybe he could go for a swim after he’d finished exploring. More towards the centre of the island, obviously, but swimming in freshwater was always a fun novelty.

That was later, though. Right now he wanted to see what kinda stuff he could find on this side of the river.

Like whatever that statue thingy over there was. It was a strange, almost bulbous thing, carved from a pale stone and perched on the very edge of the island.

Wind beelined towards it, interest thoroughly piqued. What even was it?

Two layers, flared out like the ruffles of a dress. Maybe a person? Oh, but there was that weird jutty-out bit near the top. It was angled strangely, almost like the statue was…

Wait, was this thing backwards?

He very carefully peered around it, mindful of the edge – and oh, there was the face. And big-ass beak, because of course it was a stumpy little loftwing.

Old too, if the fuzziness of some of the carved details was anything to go by.

The beak was open, but Wind didn’t care quite enough to risk falling in an attempt to see if anything was inside. But the eyes, now that was worth looking at.

Each eye was a large, red-orange gemstone, faceted and beautiful and Wind legitimately itched to get his hands on them. Just one would be enough to make Tetra or Linebeck literally seethe with jealousy, surely nobody would miss it.

He leaned further around the body of the bird, one hand braced on carved feathers and balancing on a tiptoe as he used the other hand to give the statue’s right eye a testing wiggle.

No good; it didn’t budge, too securely set.

Trying the other one gave the same result, but this gem did look significantly less weathered. The cuts of the facet were a bit more crisp, the surface clear and undamaged.

If Wind craned his neck, he could just barely make out a design within the gem – it looked like the Old Kingdom crest he kept seeing around, proud wings outstretched. Although, they were in Sky’s era, so probably not that old. New, even.

It was missing some details, though, so maybe it was actually even older. An Old-Old Kingdom crest, maybe?

Wind wanted.

He wanted it so bad, it was so pretty and shiny and augh. But it wouldn’t shift an inch, even when he tried fitting his nails under the seam in an attempt to pry it loose.

This would be so much easier if he had enough foot room to actually get some proper leverage. Not to mention that even if he tried using a dagger or something, odds were it’d pop free in a way that would send it careening into the clouds below, never to be seen again.

Honestly. How was he supposed to plunder under these circumstances?

Wind gave it one last futile tug, lips pursed, before he was forced to concede defeat to a stupid statue.

Maybe if he sat on its head and tried that angle?

Ugh, wait, never mind, way too conspicuous. Someone would spot him immediately, and it was much harder to pull an excuse out of your ass when you’re being obvious about stealing things. Plausible deniability and youthful innocence could only take someone so far.

He sighed, lowering himself back onto his heels with a pout.

Well, add that one to the list of things to come back to, he supposed.

“The instant I find me a proper tool, it’s over for you,” he warned.

Like the house-ship-thing, it didn’t grace him with an answer.

It looked almost lonely, if he looked at it for too long. Standing sentinel, looking out over an empty sky all by itself. Maybe that was the point?

Weird, though. Who builds a statue just to put all the interesting parts where no one can see them?

He’d appreciate those gems so much more than this thing ever had, this was just unfair.

Wind decided that if he was gonna sulk, he was gonna do it somewhere where he wasn’t being glinted at mockingly. And if he stuck his tongue out before turning on his heel, that was between him and the sunken gods.

Alright, what else was over here.

Oh. Wild and Hyrule, apparently.

The two were animatedly discussing something, unperturbed by how only one of them was still on the ground - the other perched high above on one of those floating chunks of land that were scattered around the edge of Skyloft.

Wind genuinely had no clue how in the world Wild had managed to get up there.

Sheer, bull-headed tenacity, if he had to guess.

Though he wasn’t sure how that factored into ignoring the existence of a few minor details; like, y’know, gravity, or the lack of handholds that didn’t start ten metres in the air.

He wandered closer, one ear idly listening in on their conversation as he stared at the larger mass of land floating above the island itself, the main waterfall spilling down from it.

(“…saying that I can.”

“And I’m saying that you can’t!”)

Where was all that water coming from? Surely it couldn’t all fit within that dinky little island.

(“Well, I’m telling you that if I started from high enough, I’d get ages away. I’d be a little speck on the horizon – and you’d be left here looking stupid, so bleh.”)

Not to mention that, by all means, the waterfall should’ve run dry well before now.

Although, to be fair, it was a magical floating island above another, larger magical floating island. So maybe he should stop trying to apply logistics to the probably also magic waterfall.

(“You see, you say that, but I’ve seen you smack into a tree mid-glide like eight times by now. So.”)

Man, imagine if they had something like this back home. They’d never have to worry about collecting rainwater again.

Wind looked down just in time to catch Wild making a sweeping gesture at the open skies behind him.

“Tell me, ‘Roolie. Do you see any goddamn trees.”

Hyrule crossed his arms, unimpressed. “No, just a long drop after one of those octorok-lookin’ things takes a potshot at you.”

That got the champion’s attention, Wild looking over his shoulder at the rocks scattered throughout the clouds. “Wait, the what nows?”

Wind didn’t bother trying to spot one with them, far more interested in the cave opening tucked into the cliff face under the waterfall island. Exploring that could be fun.

His luck remained poor, though, as the entrance was grown over with carefully cultivated trees, thin but sturdy trunks effectively barring anyone from getting in.

The same method was used back home on the path up to the top of Outset, meant to keep the little kids from traipsing into the Fairy Forest or off the bridge without supervision. Wind recognised and appreciated their usefulness, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t resent them slightly.

Honestly, he wasn’t five.

There was a sign in front of the trees, emblazoned with text; he couldn’t read Sky’s Hylian, but Wind knew a ‘keep out’ sign when he saw one.

The urge to slice through the trees (and condescending sign) and go in anyway out of spite was growing by the second.

Slight problem on that front, though. No sword.

Ugh.

He should’ve just sucked it up and lugged his stuff around anyway, this was just proving to be more annoying than it was worth.

If Wind tried, he could probably squeeze his way in regardless, but not having his sword or any weapons on him was inconvenient in more ways than one. In his experience, caves like this were blocked off for a reason.

Not to mention that if he got his face all scratched up by a stray keese, he’d literally never hear the end of it.

Well. This side of the river was a bust, then.

He really wanted to explore the waterfall island up above, but, well. He wasn’t Wild. So gravity tragically still applied to him.

That settled it, he was coming back here with all his gear later. He’d like to see these fancy floating rocks beat his hookshot.

He turned away from the cave with a put-out sigh, tuning back in to whatever ‘Roolie and Wild were still chattering about.

“It’s called tactics,” Wild was declaring grandly, “You don’t just go flinging yourself off high surfaces all willy-nilly-“

“You don’t?” Hyrule asked.

“-Hush, you – you gotta be smart about it. You gotta make a plan.”

Hyrule snorted, crossing his arms. “All the plans in the world won’t stop you from getting sweaty palms and losing your grip, Champion.”

Wild gaped in offence. “Wh- I’ll have you know that I once managed to glide nearly a whole kilometre away from Ridgeland Tower! In one go! I won that study!”

The traveller nodded consolingly. “And I’m sure that means a lot. To you.”

Wild pulled a face down at him, throwing in a rude gesture for good measure.

“You can be bitchier than the Vet sometimes, you know that right?”

The gesture was returned, although Hyrule’s shoulders shook with his quiet snickers.

“It’s a gift,” he said simply. “Alright then, mister paraglider, just what is this master plan of yours?”

The champion drew himself up primly, clearing his throat as he got back into his flow.

“Step one, find the highest vantage point.” He pointed a finger up, and both Wind and Hyrule glanced up at the waterfall island. “Like so.”

Hyrule didn’t bother asking Wild how he was planning on getting up there, which was annoying because Wind still had no clue what bullshit he’d pulled to get as high as he already had.

“Step two is the fun part,” Wild continued, “Because it involves teamwork.”

His added flourishing gestures were blinked up at with varying levels of skepticism.

“Y’know, I don’t think that’s what Wars and Twi meant when they said you should practice working in a team,” Hyrule pointed out.

“Well, tough shit, because that’s the excuse they’re getting,” the champion said dismissively, “Not the point, though.”

He leaned forwards, arms braced on his thighs as he grinned a mischievous grin down at the traveller.

“The point,” he said conspiratorially, “Is that we know someone with quite the mastery over the winds.”

Oh boy. Wonder who that could be.

See, this was why Wind eavesdropped. Everyone always started making all the interesting schemes when they thought he wasn’t looking.

“Y’know Wind’s…” Wild trailed off, making a vague swooshy gesture with his hand, “…Magic baton thingy?”

“The one he definitely won’t let you borrow?” Hyrule asked.

“I’m not gonna borrow it, no way I can use it anywhere near as well as him,” the champion scoffed, and Wind tried to tamp down the faint thrill of pride at the indirect praise. “I just wanna get him to do me a favour. In the name of science.”

Hyrule was facing away from him, but the sailor could practically hear his bemused eyebrow raise. “Since when was science a factor in this?”

“Since I snagged me a silver rupee for participating in a study from a guy who had apparently never heard the term ‘Rito’ in his life,” Wild said with a haughty sniff. “I’m just getting him more data, is all.”

“Is that science? Or is that wanting more money?”

“Not important. So what I’m thinking is that I bring the Sailor up with me-“

How, he still didn’t say.

“-And he’ll swish his fancy stick and get the wind blowing in my favour.”

Fancy stick. See if Wind helped him now, with that attitude.

“O…kay,” Hyrule said slowly, “And why does he need to get dragged all the way up there for that?”

Oh, wait, fair question, actually.

Wild perked up, pleased to reveal the rest of his grand scheme. “Because,” he said, drumming his knees in excitement, “Then he’ll pull out his crazy powerful Deku leaf, and whoosh! Give me a boost!”

The traveller looked up at him for a long few moments. “So your plan is to cheat.”

Wind stifled a snort as Wild wrinkled his nose down at the other. “It’s not cheating,” he protested, “It’s tactics.”

“Tell Wars that.”

“He’ll take my side, asshole, he’s the one who’s always harping on about how ‘any advantage is a good advantage’. Also, since when did you give half a shit about sportsmanship?”

“Low blow,” Hyrule said, but Wind could hear the smile in his voice. “Alright, fine, if you wanna play like that, I bet you…”

He scanned his eyes over the horizon for a second before pointing at something.

“Twenty rupees that you’ll fall before that rock over there.”

Wild followed his hand, then whipped his head back around in affront. “Only that far?!”

“Sweaty hands,” ‘Roolie said with an unapologetic shrug.

“I do not- You are so rude. Pick a better one.”

The traveller pointed at a closer rock.

“Oi!”

“What happened to it being for science?”

“It’s primarily for bragging rights, would you just work with me here-“

Wind decided to dip before they could get the chance to finally notice he was there and try to drag him into their plans, quietly sidling away while they were distracted by Hyrule’s bubbling laughter.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to participate, it was just that they had been specifically told not to do anything, quote, ‘hare-brained or generally ill-advised’ – and he was fairly sure that ‘flinging yourself off the island on a dare’ fell into both categories.

They could do whatever, but Wind was saving his one free ‘get off with a warning’ pass for a pair of very shiny gemstones.

If Wild wanted his help that bad, he could at least start with a half-decent bribe.

The sailor hummed to himself as he meandered back the way he came, pausing as he hopped over the river bridge before picking the tune back up.

Alright, where to next.

Chapter Text

Wind decided to follow along the river again, letting the sound of running water keep him from thinking too much about the birds circling above. He felt much calmer now, anyway – the anxiety reduced to just a background hum after watching his brothers fool around.

All he had to do was not look up, and he could almost forget they were there.

He came across a proper, man-made bridge stretching over the river after a bit that he considered, but ultimately decided against; he wanted to check out the plaza, and having to double back would just make him confused on what he had and hadn’t already explored.

So he followed the river for a little further, watching how it lapped at the sandy shore of the riverbank.

Wind slowed, still gazing at the water as a swell of homesickness rose in his chest. There were just slightly too many similarities to back home – it was making him long for a touch of salt on the breeze, for tall palms and vibrantly coloured crabs.

But home didn’t even exist yet, here.

He stared for a few seconds longer, then huffed and forcibly shook himself out of it.

They were in the sky. There was no point in longing for a different island when this one was so cool.

The plaza was just ahead, so Wind left the river behind to go see what it had to offer. They’d already seen it in passing yesterday, but he wanted to properly snoop now that he had the chance, rather than getting distracted by being forcibly made aware of his lungs.

It was a well-loved place, pale flagstones worn down by years of footsteps and the steady creep of encroaching moss. It was nice, though. Very breezy.

The most interesting thing in the area was the tower – tiered and very eye-catching thanks to the, y’know, solid beam of light shooting off into the distance – but Legend seemed to have thoroughly beaten him to it. The veteran was examining something on the topmost tier, just visible every now and again as he circled around.

Knowing him, he’d probably spotted the beam with the rest of them yesterday, not accepted Sky’s explanation of ‘oh, yeah it just does that now,’ and had been stewing about it ever since. There was no way he’d be coming down until he had unearthed every secret the tower held, and figured out how to replicate and harness them to boot.

Wind was also curious, but not enough to interrupt a Legend who’d been staring at one thing for well over an hour.

(Last time he’d been dumb enough to do that, he’d promptly gotten subjected to a very lengthy and frustrated rant about the irregular grammatical conventions of a dead language. Never again.)

He’d just check it out once Legend was done. Or at least had had enough time to put his thoughts into an order that would make sense to anyone who wasn’t him.

…But that beam of light was really cool.

Maybe just a little interrupting. Wind took a deep breath in.

“’Hoy! Legend!” He called, hands cupped around his mouth. He waited for the veteran to look at him, head poking out over the edge, before continuing with a cheery “What’cha looking at?”

The older boy made a vaguely irate gesture that told him he was right to not climb up there.

“The beam’s made by this big magnifying glass thing,” he called back, “I just can’t work out how. It’s using regular sunlight, so it must be converting it somehow, but it just feels like normal glass – and the light makes it too hard to get a proper look.”

Oh, fun.

“Maybe it’s magic?” Wind suggested, putting on his most innocent look, and Legend threw his hands up irritably.

“Obviously it’s magic!” he snapped, “I just need to work out what kind!”

The sailor tried very hard to keep a straight face, blinking up at him before very sweetly saying, “Have you considered light magic?”

That earned him a dirty look, the veteran’s face scrunching in way that told him exactly what he thought of his contributions. “I didn’t ask for your sass, Sailor.”

Wind grinned, opening his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by another call.

“Oh! Hey, Wind, over here!”

The two of them looked over to find Sky and his Zelda watching them from the wooden dock-looking thing jutting off over the side of the island – the pair waving once they had his attention.

The sailor waved back, deciding to take pity on Legend and stop heckling him.

“’Hoy!” he called, before looking back up at the veteran. “See ya, Legend! Have fun with your thing!”

“Oh, I intend to,” the other replied lowly, tone far more threatening than such an innocuous statement really needed. It seemed to be more directed at whatever was up there giving him grief, though, so Wind left him to it.

He trotted around the tower over to Sky and Zelda, giving them a bright smile once he joined them on the wooden planks.

“Hi,” he said curiously, “Did you guys need something?”

Sky shrugged, wiggling a hand noncommittedly. “A little bit. We just wanted to check in with everyone, see how they’re holding up with the air thing.”

“I’ve been fine,” Wind lied, deciding that the persistent tightness in his chest was no one’s problem but his own. He both knew and was pointedly ignoring its real cause, anyway, which was basically the same thing as handling it. “Nothing a sip of your potion can’t fix. How long has Legend been up there?”

Zelda giggled. “Longer than we’ve been here,” she said, giving an amused look up to where the veteran had once more disappeared to poke at things until something gave. “We offered to help, but he wants to work it out by himself.”

“He’s gonna be pissed once he caves and finds out about the windmill thing, though,” Sky added, the two sharing a conspiring snicker.

The sailor tucked that little tidbit away for later. Hunt down some windmills and see just how much he can ruin Legend’s day, got it.

“So, how are you finding Skyloft, so far?” Sky asked, “Having fun?”

Wind lit up, giving an excited half-bounce.

“It’s great! I was hanging out in the Bazaar for a bit, but I’m exploring now. I might quickly go see if Warriors has figured out his little… situation yet, though, maybe he’s managed to wriggle his way out of actually dealing with it by now.”

Sky furrowed his brow in confusion. “Wait, what is Wars doing?”

“Getting flirted with. He’s refusing to back down, though, but I think he was trying to freeze her out with sheer politeness. Or by just acting oblivious and hoping she’ll get the hint.” He scoffed. “Which, good luck to him on that, she was practically climbing over the counter last I checked.”

“Flirted with…?” The sky knight said slowly, before realisation dawned on his face. “Wait, in the Bazaar? Was it the girl at the item check, with the pigtails?”

Ooh, mild horror. His favourite.

“Yep!” Wind chirped, and Sky and Zelda let out a groan and a delighted cackle respectively.

“Peatrice,” Sky sighed, “Yeah, no, good luck to him, she’s never taken a hint in her life.”

“Do you reckon she has a thing for people named Link?” Zelda asked, clearly revelling in the way her boyfriend’s face screwed up slightly at the concept.

“We haven’t even been here for a full day,” Sky lamented, not gracing that with an acknowledgement. “How has she already warmed up to him by that much?”

Wind gave a shrug, quietly pleased about this new unexpected development. It was like one of Niko’s puppet shows – more accurately, like Niko’s puppet shows when they’d had smooth sailing for so long that he had nothing else to work on but increasingly elaborate papercraft.

This was great. His grandma was going to be getting every sordid detail.

“Warriors Effect,” he said by way of explanation.

Sky groaned again, but Zelda’s face took on a mischievous glint.

“Hm,” she said slowly, putting on a show of pondering something. “Do you reckon that if I walked up and pretended to be all over the Captain, she’d call me a floozy again?”

The sky knight’s head whipped up from where it’d been buried in his hands. “She did what?!”

Zelda raised her hands with a laugh. “It wasn’t to my face-“ “

“That’s worse!”

“-And I just found it funny more than anything! It’s fine, I really don’t care!”

“I will pay you,” Wind said reverently, knowing deep in his heart that he needed to see this. “Name your price. I’ll throw in an extra purple if you can make Warriors blush.”

Her face split into a scheming grin. “I just wanna see if I can get her to call me something worse. Do you reckon I should aim for a ‘harlot’?”

“Absolutely,” Wind said, ignoring the affronted swat he got from Sky.

“Stop enabling each other, you absolute menaces,” he protested, “I don’t wanna hear anyone calling anybody a harlot, Twi will literally hunt me down himself if he catches wind. Not to mention Time, do you even know what that word means?”

“Does it matter?” the sailor asked angelically, which was just a fancy way of saying ‘sort of, he got the general gist enough to know that he was talking to a comedic genius’.

“Zelda. Time will kill me. I’ll have to look him in the eye and tell him that Wind picked up a new word again.”

Zelda hummed. “Maybe just ‘hussy’, then,” she said consideringly, earning herself a matching swat.

“I hate this,” Sky declared, though his tone spoke to the contrary, “You’re both the worst. Letting you meet was a mistake I’ll never recover from.”

The girl laughed again, the sound bright and sunny. “Love you too, sleepyhead,” she teased, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Wind did not gag, in an uncharacteristically generous show of goodwill.

Even though they were making it really hard, especially when Sky returned the kiss with an affectionate eye roll. He occupied himself with watching the clouds pass below them, because ew.

Damn, they were high up. Good thing he wasn’t afraid of heights.

“So, Wind, done anything else?” Sky asked, once they were done being gross at each other, “You mentioned exploring, find anything interesting?”

Ooh, perfect. The sailor pretended to think, like he didn’t want to immediately jump at the opportunity to get some insider information.

“We-ell,” he said, drawing out the word slowly, “I did find this weird bird statue. You guys know anything about it?”

“…Like one of the ones dotted around everywhere?” Zelda asked, “Those are just for leaving a quick prayer as you go about your day.”

He didn’t think so? He’d only seen one of them so far, they might be thinking of different things.

“Nah, it was on the other side of the island, and had gemstones for eyes,” Wind elaborated, before adding a hopeful “It looked really cool.”

“Oh, that one,” Sky said, eyes lighting up in recognition. “I’ll tell you about it later, it’s a bit of a long story. It is pretty cool, you’re right about that.”

Well, that wasn’t super helpful for his plundering. Some of Wind’s disappointment must’ve shown in his face, because Sky gave him a knowing smile.

“The gems probably aren’t gonna come off, though.”

Killjoy.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Wind replied, prim and with only a smidge of mulishness. Honestly, these people never let him do anything fun.

He was absolutely still gonna try, though. Just out of sheer principle.

“But yeah, apart from that, just wandering around, mostly,” he continued, wanting to change the subject before anyone thought to snitch on him later. “Saw Wild and Hyrule, found a cave, the usual. What about you guys?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Zelda answered blithely, “We’re just trying to track Azure down, right now. He’s decided that he’s doing his own thing today.”

Wind blinked, running through the (admittedly small) list of Skyloftians he’d met over the past day and coming up dry.

“Who’s Azure?” he asked.

Zelda gave a vaguely sheepish chuckle, hands coming up to play with the ribbons laced through her hair. “I forgot you guys wouldn’t know,” she said.

“Azure’s my loftwing.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Wind said faintly.

“We were gonna go flying together,” Sky explained, entirely oblivious to the pit of dread that had opened itself in the sailor’s stomach, “But somebody’s being lazy.”

That part was directed at the sky in general, Wind vaguely noted.

“He’ll show up eventually,” Zelda said, flapping a hand reassuringly, “I think he just saw that we’re still on Skyloft, and so is dragging his feet a lil’.”

“That sucks,” Wind said, privately and sincerely hoping that the thing would drag its taloned feet for a little longer. At least until he had cleared out.

“It’s fine, he can just be a bit cheeky sometimes,” she smiled, tone fond.

Sky snorted. “Just a bit?”

“Azure is a delight and an angel, thank you very much,” Zelda said with an exaggerated haughtiness, “And I won’t have you besmirching his good name with these baseless accusations. He’s an upstanding bird.”

“You taught him to break into my room, Zel.”

“Not my fault you never lock your window.”

Wind was trying to reconcile their fond tone with something like the massive bird Sky had already shown them yesterday, but his brain refused to make the connection. It just kept getting stuck on big, with eyes that were far too intelligent for his comfort.

It was just another stupid loftwing. It wasn’t even here. So why was his chest getting all fluttery?

Calm. He was calm.

“Do you- do you reckon he’s nearby?” Wind asked, as forcibly casual as he could manage.

“He should be,” Zelda hummed, “I can sense him hanging around, so he’s not stuck somewhere. We’ve been waiting for a while, though.”

“Maybe he got distracted,” Sky suggested.

“Maybe…” She looked at the sky for a little longer, lips pursed. “Gimme a second, I’ll try calling him again.”

The girl raised a hand to her lips, thumb and forefinger poised, before she paused.

“You might wanna cover your ears,” she told Wind kindly.

He hastily obliged.

Zelda’s subsequent whistle was still piercing enough to make it past his hands, echoing around the plaza in a way that told Wind that apparently being able to make sounds loud enough to kill a god was just a Skyloftian thing. He couldn’t help but flinch, even despite it being somewhat muffled.

Sky didn’t even so much as cringe, the bastard.

They all watched the sky for any sign of the creature – some with far more trepidation than others – but nothing appeared to be flying in their direction.

Wind tried not to look too visibly relieved.

Zelda huffed, placing a frustrated hand on her hip. “I know you can hear me!” She called, “Get over here and let me check those pinfeathers, mister!”

“Maybe you should try a different call,” Sky said mildly.

“I don’t need to use the flight call, I’m not gonna lie to my bird,” Zelda retorted.

“But that’s probably why he’s being so slow. He knows its not urgent, so he’s decided to take his sweet time and do a few laps of Skyloft.”

“And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Hey!” Sky laughed, flicking her hair gently, “Crimson always comes when I call!”

“Because you always jump off the island to do it, you’re gonna give him a heart attack one day with the way you insist on waiting ‘til the last second.”

“It’s fun!”

“Sure, until your bird gets shoved in a hole and I have to haul you back up.”

“That was one time, and not even my fault. And you’re the one who pushed me off in the first place!”

Zelda grinned. “Details.”

Wind lowered his hands cautiously, exhaling slowly – he couldn’t shake this feeling of being hunted, nerves getting strung higher by the second despite knowing he was being illogical.

“You guys have different calls?” he asked weakly, in an attempt to distract himself.

“Yeah, of course,” Sky answered, “Did you not notice?”

Notice what?

“…I know that you and Zelda whistle differently?”

Zelda let out a huff of amusement. “Well, yeah, but we also have variations so our loftwings know what’s up. Like, this is a flight whistle-”

She brought her fingers to her mouth again, and Wind barely had enough time to brace before his ears were ringing.

“-So that’s for when you need to be caught – and this is a ‘come over here’ whistle.”

A second whistle rang out through the plaza, bouncing off the flagstones.

Wind… couldn’t even slightly hear a difference between the two.

Sky definitely could, though, if the way he sighed was any indication. “Why’d you use that one last, now Azure knows he doesn’t have to hurry up.”

“I already told you I’m not lying to my bird, Link.”

“Well, maybe he should’ve thought of that before deciding to be a pain in the ass today.”

Zelda pointed a jokingly warning finger at him. “Watch it, buddy; the only person allowed to shit-talk my darling loftwing – who has never done anything wrong in his life, might I mention – is me.”

“I thought I earned the right the first time he spit a half-eaten ringer in my face?”

Wind only half heard the couple’s bantering, gaze stuck scanning the skies above for a response to Zelda’s calls. Still, the horizon remained clear.

He breathlessly waited a bit longer.

…Nothing.

Maybe… it really wasn’t coming?

A shaky exhale slipped past his lips, the sailor cautiously letting himself relax by an increment.

…No bird.

It was fine. He was fine.

The rest of his breath rushed out of him as Wind nearly slumped under the weight of a heady swell of relief.

See, he was freaking out about nothing. It wasn’t even here, probably off terrorising a bug or whatever it was those things ate.

His brain was just being dumb today. It was fine.

Sky and Zelda thankfully didn’t seem to have noticed his subdued moment of weakness, too preoccupied with their light-hearted bickering to pay his quiet sigh any mind.

Oh, gross, they were definitely flirting, weren’t they.

Ew. They could have their fun, but he was out.

Wind turned – intending to get back to exploring the island – only to nearly barrel straight into something big and blue and feathery-

It was one of those massive birds and it was right there next to him.

“Azure, there you are!”

The pleased exclamation sounded like it came through a thick layer of water as the sailor froze, heart rate spiking in the face of the huge creature.

The thing was easily twice his size.

Wind suddenly felt very, very small.

It tilted its head down at him, piercing yellow gaze keeping him pinned, before it made what could only be described as a click-churr; craning its neck down yet still managing to tower over him as it took a step closer.

Wind let out a sort of hiccuping gasp, pedalling hastily backwards to put more space between him and the loftwing before it-

His foot met nothing but air.

Time seemed to slow for an eternity, leaving him hanging in the balance between safety and oblivion – gaze still locked on the bird’s steady golden stare. It tilted its giant head minutely, almost like it was curious at his plight.

Then the world started working again, and he barely had the chance for his eyes to widen before he toppled over the edge of the island.

“No-“

“Wind!”

There was no time for him to try to control his fall, the wind whipping past his ears as he tumbled down through the endless sky, away from the desperate shouts of his companions.

Shit, shit shit shit-

He had to do something- Deku leaf, maybe he could catch himself-

Come on, Wind, think-

There was a screeching cry, impossibly loud, and Wind’s already short breath hitched, train of thought stuttering.

No.

Adrenaline was useless if he was falling through the sky, where was-

He-

“Hgk-!”

His fall came to an abrupt halt, his very bones jarred as he was effortlessly plucked out of the sky like he was nothing.

For a second he could only wheeze, the breath punched out of him – then his dazed brain caught up with a sickening rush of pure, unadulterated, fear.

No.

Wind let out a strangled shriek at the sensation of talons digging into the back of his tunic, the sound of massive wingbeats swiftly drowned out by the roaring that erupted in his ears.

Another one of those screeches sounded, as if in reply. He couldn’t help his violent flinch, another panicked cry escaping him at the glimpse of a feathered wingtip.

No, no no no-

He frantically writhed in the thing’s grip to reach his pouch for his hammer, sword, anything-

His hands met empty space – just in time for Wind to remember that he had left his things with the rest of their packs. Because it was meant to be safe.

He was defenceless.

It was at that horrified realisation that Wind’s brain decided it was done, actually, and took a hearty step back from the situation – leaving his struggling body to fall abruptly limp, hanging in the air at the mercy of a monster.

(No no please-)

His limbs jostled bonelessly with every flap of the beast’s wings. He could distantly feel his fingertips start to tingle, but couldn’t seem to remember how to make them so much as twitch.

‘Maybe it won’t throw me too far,’ his mind supplied, vague past the haze of terror as he stared unblinking at the sea of white below him.

‘It’s not as big. Maybe I can swim to an island.’

The wind tugged at his hair, caressing his cheeks as a single tear fell, unbidden, down, down, down.

‘Maybe I’ll be okay.’

A choked sob wrested itself free of his frozen chest. A tiny, pathetic thing.

He couldn’t seem to take a proper breath; there was something in his throat that caused the air to hitch and stutter on the way in, caught somewhere between his throat and his lungs. His ineffectual gasps were useless, but Link couldn’t do anything to fix it while he was trapped, paralysed with fear.

The bird was carrying him upwards. Maybe it instead planned to drop him, rather than expend the energy to toss him away.

(Please-)

The waves below were calm and white.

(Why so pale? There were clear skies, why weren’t they blue?)

Calm enough that a fall from this height would kill him just as surely as if he’d been dropped on a slab of stone.

Link’s already hysterical mind must’ve blanked at that, because the next thing he knew he was being gently deposited on solid ground, the giant talons finally releasing their grip as the wingbeats halted.

Why…?

Oh.

There was a reason the Helmaroc King had been sent out to hunt, after all.

(“…tch your step th…! Y… …alright?”)

Some part of his brain dimly screamed at him to move, to run before the cage door locked, but his limbs wouldn’t listen. All he could do was lie there, shuddering gasps quietly escaping his mouth.

(“…so sor… …didn’t expect… …get… …face like that!”)

(“…ind?”)

All Link could do was lie there and wait for his Triforce to be ripped out of him by an uncaring hand – too weak to put up any resistance.

(“…okay?”)

(“…not responding… …ind?”)

(“…happened?! Why is… …moving?”)

(“…don’t know… …Wi…? …hear me?”)

Something lightly touched his shoulder, and the vice grip terror had on his body eased just enough for him to start trembling like a leaf in the breeze. The touch just as quickly recoiled; Link took the opportunity to curl in on himself, left hand clutched protectively to his aching chest like that would help anything.

(“…do?!”)

(“…n’t shout… needs… …calm down… …ind?”)

Why hadn’t massive fingers encircled his wrist yet, lifted him like a broken doll? Why was he allowed to lie here and helplessly drift?

(“…Link?”)

Oh. That was him, wasn’t it.

An ear weakly twitched in recognition. The hazy words were quick to continue, taking on a distinctly soothing tone.

(“…okay, Link, it’s… …alright… …can… …hear me? Need you… … breathe, it’s… …kay.”)

The adrenaline slowly began to leech out of him, tremors worsening despite how his panic started to wind down to more manageable levels the longer nothing happened.

The distant voice spoke again, and he automatically clung to the words like a lifeline.

(“…safe… …ust breathe in… …out.”)

Breathe.

It took a few tries, but eventually Link managed to get a shaky breath in, copying the muffled instructions. More sound filtered in as he continued, still in his defensive curl.

“In… and out… You’re doing great, just keep going, Link.”

He continued to just breathe, spiralling thoughts steadily coming to a halt as his vision finally cleared.

No bars, no water spilling down. Just a flagstone plaza, worn wooden boards beneath him.

“In… and out,” Sky said again, tone calm despite the undercurrent of worry running through it. “Can you hear me?”

Link’s pose relaxed minutely, tremors softening, and he gave a mute nod before dragging his gaze across to look at the other. Sky’s face practically crumpled in relief as their eyes met, and he gave a gentle smile.

“Do you know where we are?”

They were… on Skyloft. He’d been with Sky and his Zelda.

Oh. Clouds, not waves. He didn’t know if that was better.

Wind silently mouthed ‘Skyloft’, and Sky nodded.

“That’s right. You fell off, and Hauk caught you.”

Wind had no idea who Hauk was.

He dully registered that there were more people gathered, and shifted his exhausted gaze to give them a quick once-over.

Sky’s Zelda, looking very apologetic.

Legend, for some reason. Oh right, he’d been poking around the tower. The veteran had probably seen everything and come running, and was now bouncing lightly on his toes like he always did when he was anxious.

And a man wearing a deep blue embroidered tunic and goggles, giving him a concerned frown.

Wind decided to take a stab in the dark and say that was Hauk, and extracted a hand to raise to his chin and drop down in a likely barely legible ‘thank you’.

The man’s face softened, and he folded his arms across his chest with a small smile. “It was no problem, just doing my job. Just try not to fall off again, yeah? You gave us quite a scare there.”

Wind couldn’t say he was planning on it.

“Thank you again, Hauk,” Sky said (oh good, he got it right), “I appreciate you sticking around – we should be good here now if you wanna get back to your patrol.”

“If you’re sure,” the man said, catching Sky’s shoulder in a hearty pat, “Good seeing you again, Link; hopefully next time the circumstances will be a bit better.” Then, directed at Wind, “Stay safe, kid.”

With that, he gave a quick salute and hefted himself onto a similarly be-goggled loftwing that Wind had somehow not noticed was there, the two soaring off the edge and out of sight before he could do more than stiffen back up briefly.

Legend still noticed his flinch, because of course he did.

“…Are you okay?” the veteran tried tentatively, fingers fiddling with the edge of his red overtunic.

“That was quite a fall, especially if you’re not used to it,” Sky added.

Right. The fall.

Wind gave a non-committal shrug, too wrung out for anything else.

Legend chewed on his cheek, clearly not satisfied with his lacklustre answer. “What happened?” he asked the others, “I turned around in time to see him fall, but not how.”

Zelda winced. “My loftwing got all the way in his personal space with no warning, and he ended up tripping over the edge,” she explained, and Legend hissed through his teeth in sympathy.

“Oh.”

“I am so sorry, by the way,” she continued, kneeling down to be more on Wind’s level on the ground, “Usually he only tries that with me and Link, I wasn’t expecting- Azure, no!”

The only warning Wind got was a flash of blue feathers and the realisation that it had been behind him this whole time, before there was a huge beak in his hair.

(Grabbing him, pinning him, dragging him away from-)

That was all his brain needed to once again decide that nope, it was out, and Wind jolted away, scrambling to his feet in a flurry of movement. This time he kept the edge firmly on the other side of the bird, chest heaving as he tripped over his feet to get away.

Those yellow eyes were back, stripping his soul bare. Like he was nothing more than prey.

(Gold medallions strung across a chest, a porcelain mask perched on a sharp beak, pet-king-hunter-monster-)

The loftwing shook itself, blue feathers ruffling up for a second, then made another warbling churr – this time staying where it was.

Wind felt sick.

A glance to the side showed Sky and Zelda staring at him in worried confusion. And Legend – always infuriatingly quick on the uptake – instead looking between him and the loftwing, realisation slowly dawning on his face.

Somewhere beneath the freshly resurfaced panic, Wind felt the beginnings of a sheer, bone-deep mortification, cheeks burning furiously.

Fuck no.

He frantically made an attempt at an excuse, trying to see if he could salvage the barest shreds of his dignity – but it got tangled up on the way out, tripping over itself until it was nothing more than a weak, garbled noise.

The second attempt didn’t fare much better, throat closing and forcibly cutting him off halfway through.

No, not now-

Sky took a cautious step closer; Wind couldn’t help how he instinctively cringed back at the movement, breath hitching. The other stopped in his tracks, something devastated in his face, but Wind only had eyes for the giant bird incessantly watching him.

Did it ever blink? Could it blink? Did birds have eyelids? Why was it still puffed up, was that a threat?

Oh, drowning gods, was it going to eat him?

He didn’t want to be eaten, then Aryll would never be able to come home-

“Wind? Link, it’s okay, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt?”

Someone was talking to him. Sky. Sky was talking to him, low and calm, couldn’t he see that there was a monster on the hunt? He liked birds, he wouldn’t know to run-

Skyloft. He was on Skyloft, and that was a loftwing, and he needed to calm down- Why did it keep staring-

“Should I go get the healer?” Zelda asked worriedly, carefully getting back to her feet as she glanced between him and Sky.

And next to her, to his horror, Legend was reaching for Sky’s arm, mouth opening – which could only mean that he knew and was going to tell-

Wind made a last ditch attempt at defusing the situation, shaking hands stuttering through a stilted ‘sorry, I’m okay, don’t worry, sorry’ as he took a few unsteady steps back.

“Wait, Wind-“

Then, with that, he bolted, deaf to the concerned protests behind him.

He nearly bowled over someone at the edge of the plaza in his haste to get away, barely stumbling out of the way with another half-formed ‘sorry’ in his hands-

“Woah, you okay, kid?”

“Sailor!”

-Before he was off again, desperately begging his feet to carry him literally anywhere but here.

Chapter Text

Wind hated how his jittery, adrenaline-fueled panic only started to fade once he had grabbed his things and crammed himself into the smallest, most defensible spot he could manage.

Skyloft barely even had any spots like that – all the buildings carefully laid out to make the most efficient use of limited space and resources possible, rather than being built up on stilts like proper houses. Even then, all his best bets were either far too public, like the Bazaar, or too open, the roof of the Knight’s Academy bare of any convenient nooks or crannies to protect him from the endless sky.

So here he was; in some random shed (probably, he hadn’t really been paying attention), with his knees hugged to his chest and the handle of his skull hammer firmly in his grasp.

Sure, he couldn’t use it in here, but that’s what his sword – laid next to him within easy reach – was for.

Wind sniffed, tracing the woodgrain of the walls with his free hand as he stewed in irritable embarrassment. At some point his fear had morphed into anger, mostly at himself.

Stupid era. Stupid floating island.

And at a few other things.

He dug a nail into the seam between the wooden boards, leveraging it in a half-hearted attempt to pry it loose, and shot the door a glare.

Stupid giant birds with their stupid giant beaks.

And wings.

And everything.

Wind sniffed again, wiping the wetness out of his eye against his shoulder, and withdrew his hand from the wall to wrap around his legs.

Stupid brain, freaking out over nothing.

He couldn’t believe he’d just frozen up like that. If things had actually gone sour, he would likely be dead several times over by now.

Stupid, useless brain.

A light knock sounded through the door, abruptly drawing Wind out of his thoughts with a startle. He gave the door a wary look, not responding.

“Sailor?”

Ugh. Twilight. If he’d wanted to be big-brothered he would’ve stayed in the plaza with the others.

“Wind? You in there?”

Wind didn’t answer, instead electing to rest his chin on his knees and throw the door a sullen look, decidedly not in the mood for this.

“Hello?”

The door rattled slightly, trying to open, but the box Wind had shoved against it held fast. Twilight probably could’ve forced it open with ease, it was barely a blockade, but he was apparently feeling delicate today.

The rancher seemed to finally give up when he still got no acknowledgement, footsteps reluctantly trudging away. Wind let him, more than happy to wallow in his self-reproach for a bit longer.

A few minutes later, the footsteps came back, and another knock sounded at the door.

“Sailor?”

Wind’s head shot up, and he stared at the door with an affronted disbelief.

Oh, low blow, Twilight.

“Sailor,” Time said again, steady as ever, “I know you’re in there.”

Wind fiercely stomped down on the childish urge to go ‘nuh-uh’, instead resting his chin back down to continue sulking. Stupid Twilight, siccing the old man on him.

A sigh came from outside, and Wind buried his face into his knees.

“Can you at least give me some indication that you’re alive in there?” Time asked, tone taking on a wry tinge.

Ugh.

“Go ‘way,” Wind finally muttered, voice muffled by his legs.

Time huffed out a quiet chuckle, and Wind narrowed his eyes as a faint whispering broke out.

(“See, I told you he was in there-“

“I never said he wasn’t!”

“Oh, he’s grumpy-“

“Liar, you were right there with the Champion, making fun of me for talking to an empty shed-“)

Oh good, Twilight had also brought along some seagulls. Just what he wanted.

“Boys,” Time said, as if he had read his mind, “Why don’t you go tell the others he’s okay?” He paused for a second. “And help the Vet calm down, he seemed a bit frantic from what I saw.”

Oops. Wind was sure he’d feel bad about that once he was done feeling pissy.

“Sure thing. C’mon you two, we can check on him later.”

“You know, if you wanted us to go away, you could’ve just said,” came Hyrule’s voice again.

Wind could practically hear Time’s unimpressed eyebrow raise. “Mm.”

“Hint taken,” Wild chirped, and another, softer knock sounded through the wood. “Hope you feel better soon, Sailor!”

He wouldn’t be able to see it, but Wind still stuck his tongue out in the general direction of the retreating footsteps. Nosy bastards.

“Now then,” Time said once they were gone, and Wind leaned his head back against the wall with an inaudible groan of frustration. “Do you want to talk about it?”

‘Did he want to talk about it.’ Wind narrowed his eyes at the ceiling, letting his mulish silence answer that question.

The old man hummed, unsurprised, and there was a rustling of fabric, the shadow just beyond the door shifting as he sat down with a slight grunt. The wood creaked softly as he leaned against it, getting comfortable.

“I was told you took a tumble off the island,” he started casually.

This sounded an awful lot like talking about it, Time.

“I feel that would shake anyone,” the man continued, undeterred by the fact that he was essentially talking to a particularly surly door, “I have no issue with heights, but goodness, just peering over the edge is enough to give me vertigo.”

Did he really think Wind didn’t know what he was trying to pull? Even Linebeck was more subtle than this, and that man acted like feelings would make him break out into hives.

“Honestly, I’m impressed that we’ve only had one incident so far,” Time ambled on, “Although I do get the impression that our Champion and Traveller are trying to hide something from me.”

Wind couldn’t help how his ears twitched at that, the chance for some petty revenge glinting tantalisingly. It couldn’t more obviously be a trap, but…

“I heard them making plans to see how far Wild could get on his glider,” he murmured despite himself, hoping the softness of his voice would hide its hoarse edge, “’Roolie bet him he’d lose his grip before he could even make it to one of those rocks.”

“Is that so?” Time asked mildly, and Wind couldn’t help the smug little thrill he got at the unspoken promise of yet another self-preservation talk in the two’s near future.

How’s that for grumpy.

“I reckon he got sna- snatched up five seconds in,” Wind continued, “There’s no way one of those knights wouldn’t have seen him.”

Time hummed again, and Wind felt a faint creeping of dread at his satisfied undertone.

“And you would know, wouldn’t you?” he asked pleasantly, trap well and truly sprung.

Oh, motherfucker.

He couldn’t not answer, he was the one who brought it up, like some sort of amateur. But if he stayed silent anyway, Time would take that as permission to draw his own conclusions and gah.

Wind took a moment to thump his head back against the wall, mentally kicking himself for letting his guard down. One of these days he’d remember that, for all his experience and level-headedness, their eldest member was sneaky.

“I tripped, a knight c-caught me,” he grit out simply. There was no backing out of it now, not when the old man had his hooks in, but maybe Wind could power through it fast enough that he’d take the hint and go away already.

“Are you sure that’s all?” Time asked, tone infuriatingly non-judgmental, “I’ve been told that you weren’t responding when you were flown back to Skyloft; everyone was worried you’d gotten hurt from the fall.”

Wind rolled his eyes with an aggravated huff. Honestly, they were acting like he’d never fallen through the sky before – it wasn’t that big a deal, why wouldn’t anyone drop it already?

“It’s fine, I’ve had worse tumbles for breakfast,” he said shortly.

The shadow under the door shifted. “So it wasn’t the fall that spooked you, then,” Time stated, more than asked, and Wind froze.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. When would he learn to keep his big mouth shut?

The shadow moved again at his lack of reply, a faint shuffling sound blending with a wooden creak as the old man changed his angle against the door slightly. Wind curled in on himself a little more, gripping his hammer tightly as he eyed the thin crack of light in trepidation.

“…Legend mentioned that he’d noticed you seemed a bit wary around the loftwings,” Time said softly, broaching the subject as gently as he could manage.

Wind gaped for a few seconds, feeling rather like a chuchu that’d gotten clocked by a boomerang.

That slimy, conniving, barnacle-ridden little snitch.

Scratch feeling bad about worrying him, the Vet was going to be finding pebbles in his shoes for weeks. And that’s if he was lucky.

“He was worried about you,” Time tried when he got no response, “We all were, especially after you disappeared like that.”

Wind kept his mouth firmly shut, hot humiliation roaring through him as he wiped his eyes on his shoulder again furiously.

“…Wind?”

Something about the concern in the elder’s voice finally made the sailor’s anger bubble over, exhausted and stretched thin and not in the fucking mood for this shit.

“Leave me alone!” he snapped – the door rattling in its frame as he gave it a pissed off kick, hard as he could manage at this angle.

Once he started, he couldn’t stop, all his built-up frustration spilling out in a great wave.

“I don’t need you to baby me, or tell me that it’s not that big a deal, or- fuckin’- anything!”

He kicked the door again, desperate to get some of his emotions out before he drowned in them.

“So take your stupid pity, and just go away already!”

One more kick, the poor, abused door creaking balefully under the force of it, and Wind buried his face in his knees once more, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to keep hold of his last shred of composure.

The resulting silence was borderline palpable, a thick presence that settled in the space between them – almost as loud as his shouting, and easily three times as heavy.

It felt like something uncomfortably close to shame, when it draped itself over his hunched shoulders.

And just like that, his temper drained as quickly as it had flared – leaving Wind with a prickling embarrassment at his outburst creeping up his spine.

Great. Now Time knew just how immature he really was; freaking out and then yelling at someone who just wanted to help. Perfect, wonderful.

It was a struggle to keep his breath even, clutching his skull hammer like it was his last lifeline as the silence wore on and on. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more, pinned by the bracing anticipation of Time’s judgement.

He sniffed, as quietly as he could, and just waited – breathing in the musty air of a cramped shed far, far from home.

Nothing. No admonishment, no apology.

(He didn’t know which would be worse.)

Just the overbearing quiet left in the wake of his anger.

Wind’s ears twitched, swivelling slightly as they picked up every noise that managed to filter in past the wooden walls in high-strung anticipation.

Running water from the nearby river.

Faint rustling as the whirling decorations strung between houses danced in the breeze.

A quiet, disgruntled mewl, followed by padded paws pacing the roof – one of those fluffy creatures (remlits, Sky had called them) must’ve been napping in the sun, only to be disturbed by his temper tantrum.

But, still, nothing from the older man, not even a sigh.

Wind didn’t dare move from his position; but the sound of the river, while nothing on the actual ocean, was more soothing than he’d like to admit, something deep in his soul finally settling at the familiar background noise of rushing water.

It took his jagged edges, and… not smoothed them over, but wrapped them in something a bit softer, a bit more manageable.

The remlit on the roof gave one last grumpy squeak, then settled back down.

Wind breathed.

Finally, just as he began to wonder if the other had actually listened to him and left, Time spoke.

“You know, I don’t like clock towers.”

…What?

It was a complete non-sequitur, but there was something in his tone that kept Wind from immediately dismissing it off the bat. He raised his head, just barely, eyes peeking over his knees at the crack of light cutting through the dim.

“…Why?” the sailor found himself asking, hoarse voice practically a whisper.

Any other time, Wind was sure Time would deflect with some dismissive remark about how he just thought they were garish or something; but this time he just hummed, mulling over his answer carefully.

“…On my second journey,” the man started slowly, borderline hesitant as he picked out his words, “The end of the world was heralded by the tolling of a clock tower.”

It was strange, how such a vague statement could paint such a clear picture.

“It would just go on, and on, and on,” Time continued, “Until either the end came, or I fixed it.”

He gave a heavy sigh.

“Then, a few days later, it would ring again. Over, and over, and over.”

Oh.

That… sounded really messed up.

“That’s messed up,” Wind said.

Time laughed like the noise was startled out of him, a short bark followed by a few breathy chuckles.

“It is, isn’t it?” he replied after a moment, smile present in his voice, “Really gives a new layer of meaning to a ‘death knell’, don’t you think?”

The sailor made a vague hum of agreement, a hand dropping to find the hilt of the sword beside him.

Wind would never admit it, but he had kind of already been scraping the bottom of his barrel of knowledge, trying to remember what a clock tower was-slash-did.

Context clues were still forever his most steadfast friend, though, so he took the ‘death’ part of that phrase and decided to draw his own conclusion of ‘not good’ – which tracked with the rest of this cheery little anecdote.

His fingers traced the smooth shape of an empty hourglass.

“…Why are you telling me- telling me this?” he asked softly.

Time sighed again.

“Well, even after my journey was all said and done, that kind of experience leaves a lasting effect,” he explained ruefully, “For years, the sound of clock tower bells was enough to send me into a panic.”

Wind was beginning to get the feeling that Time had brought up this story for a reason.

“So what did you do?” he asked, mouth dry, “How did you fi- fix it?”

The old man huffed out a fond chuckle, door creaking as he shifted position yet again.

“I didn’t,” he said simply, “To this day, I still flinch.”

Oh.

“But,” he continued, before Wind could properly start despairing, “It did get easier. I took note of which towns had a clock tower, kept keeping track of the time so I wouldn’t be caught off guard. Over time, that’s all it became. A flinch.”

Oh.

Wind laid his palm flat on the hourglass, feeling the cool curves against his calluses.

Time must’ve sensed his silent doubt through the door, because he chuckled again, grabbing his attention with a soft knock.

“Make no mistake, it was not a journey without its pitfalls,” he said, quiet but firm. “The path to healing is filled with ups and downs.”

The glass slowly warmed under his hand. Wind didn’t say anything.

After a few moments, Time gave another sigh, and the wood creaked again.

“…Once,” he started, something heavy in his tone, “When I was about your age, I had a bad day.”

They all had bad days; Wind knew this all too well, but something about the confession made him sit up and listen.

“I was in a town, already halfway to jittering out of my own skin, when I…”

The old man trailed off briefly, then hummed, as if amused.

“Well. I didn’t lose track of the time-“

(Wind honestly wasn’t sure he could – the man’s freakishly accurate internal clock never once seemed to falter.)

“-But I did forget what it meant.”

The sailor moved his hand from the hourglass to the hilt, fingers lightly curling around worn leather, and softly asked the question he already knew the answer to.

“The town had a clock t- clock tower?”

“Yep. And I knew this, I had been there before, but in that moment it somehow slipped my mind.”

Wind thought of blue feathers and piercing eyes. “What- what h-happened?”

“Well,” Time said, entirely too casual for how he was baring such a vulnerable part of himself, “I’m not actually entirely sure. One moment I was in the marketplace, jumping at shadows and such. And then it struck twelve.”

The was a faint shf of fabric, likely a shrug.

“Next thing I knew, I was on some random roof, ocarina held so tight my hands hurt, with some poor guard trying their damndest to coax me down without breaking my neck.”

Wind blinked at the door, almost dumbstruck, and belatedly loosened his grip on his skull hammer. His fingers ached as they uncoiled, but it felt much, much better than he’d expected.

“Why were you on a roof?” he asked, huddled in a shed.

Time gave a quiet snort. “No idea. Better view of the sky, probably.”

Wind wondered if the end of the world looked anything like a divine, torrential flood, pouring endlessly from the heavens.

Or maybe it just looked like a little girl being carried far away, too far to reach.

“What then?”

“Oh, nothing much, if that’s what you’re hoping for,” Time said wryly, “I got down eventually; though, mostly because the guard had been halfway to using the butt-end of his spear to try and nudge me somewhere a little less nerve-wracking.”

The sailor couldn’t help how his lips ticked upwards at the mental image of a tiny Time holed up on a rooftop, hissing at some hapless soldier.

“Got myself a pastry, ducked into an alley to properly calm down, et cetera,” the old man continued listing, before pausing for a second.

“…I’m pretty sure I ended up biting that guard.”

A surprised, fragile laugh burst out of Wind like he’d been punched in the chest.

“He wouldn’t leave me alone!” Time defended with an audible smile, before he added a derisive, “He kept asking me if I was okay, where my parents were, the whole works – so the next time he tried to touch me, I bit his hand and ran off.”

Wind couldn’t control the quiet, breathless giggles that spilled out of him, a spark of pure delight glinting in his chest for a brief moment. Of course the old man had.

Time let him get it out, something almost relieved underpinning his own amused chuckles.

“…Still,” he said, once Wind’s muffled laughter had petered out, “He was only trying to help, in his own, astoundingly annoying way. He just so happened to be dealing with what was likely the most prickly kid in the entire town – which wasn’t his fault, really.”

Time huffed softly, decades-old irritation rearing its head.

“I still don’t know how he didn’t take the hint about the parent thing, though.”

“Maybe he deserved just a little bit of a b-bite,” Wind suggested, still a bit hoarse.

The old man chuckled again. “Maybe just a nibble,” he agreed, “Still, he did his best. I found him the next day, when I fit in my skin a bit better, to apologise, and he was very nice about it.”

The small grin that had been slowly growing abruptly died; Wind shrank in on himself slightly, chin tucked back into his knees.

Right.

The creeping shame had morphed into a cloying guilt at some point while he wasn’t looking. Acknowledging it only seemed to make it cling harder, reluctant to let go – but the alternative was letting it fester, so he needed to get it over with.

‘Come on, are you a Hero of Courage or not?’ Wind told himself firmly, before taking a deep breath.

The words got stuck in his throat the first time – the sailor took a moment to press his eyes into his arms, pushing in until shapes danced in the back of his vision.

‘It’s not hard, what is wrong with you,’ he mouthed harshly, fingernails digging into the palms of his balled-up hands. One more breath, and he tried again.

“…’m sorry for yelling at you.”

The door rattled slightly, like something had jolted against it. There was a rustling as Time presumably twisted around to face him.

“Oh, you don’t have to apologise – it wasn’t my intent to imply-“

“But I a-am, though,” Wind interrupted roughly, the words now jostling for their turn to get out.

“Y-you didn’t have to come talk to me, to stay, and- and-”

He sniffed, trying and failing to keep his composure.

“And all I did was scream at you to p-piss off!”

“Sailor,” the old man said gently, “I don’t blame you. You were overwhelmed and cornered, both figuratively and quite literally-” he gave a sigh, “-And I pushed too hard.”

Time rapped his knuckles against the wood, a muted comfort.

“It’s okay.”

No, it wasn’t; he didn’t get to say that without a second thought, like he-

“No, it’s n-not!” Wind snapped wetly, and he gave the door another weak kick. “See? I’m doing it again! Why d-don’t you c-ca- care?!”

“Because I’m worried, Link,” Time replied shortly, blunter than a dull knife.

The sailor recoiled, foot swiftly retracted, but the other kept going.

“Because you went through a horrible experience, because we couldn’t find you for the better part of an hour, because I’m talking to you through a slab of wood since this was the only place where you felt safe enough to stop running-”

The old man took a quick moment to bring his tone back down, deliberately level breaths audible through the door.

“Because,” he finished softly, “You’re upset. I’m not going to yell at you for being upset.”

Wind couldn’t quite suppress the small whine that worked its way out of him, ears pinned back as he scrubbed a fist over his eyes.

“Sto- Stop b-being so n- ni- nice,” he managed to get out, hating the thickness in his voice and utterly powerless to do anything about it.

Time huffed out something halfway to a fond laugh.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sailor. And nothing you say – or do – will change that.”

The way he said it, like it was some immutable fact of the world, made something in Wind’s chest twist weirdly.

A great swell of an equally unidentifiable ‘something’ rose up and lodged itself firmly in his throat, thoroughly robbing him of the ability to even attempt to formulate an even vaguely dignified answer – not that he would’ve been able to in the first place.

“Oh,” he managed to choke out.

The sailor didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry at how feeble that response was, how it didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of his roiling emotions.

‘Oh.’ Was that really all he could say?

“I-“

Wind cut himself off with a wet sniff, trying futilely to swallow past the lump in his throat.

‘Come on, say something.’

“I-“

It was no good. It was like his voice had finally curled up somewhere in his chest, and refused to budge no matter how much he tugged and pleaded.

Another breathless whine escaped, barely perceptible.

He hated when this happened.

At the very least he could take solace in the fact that it was a problem he was familiar with. Wind leaned his head back and closed his eyes, breathing painstakingly deepened, and imagined cool, wrinkled hands taking his own, thumbs running a familiar track along his knuckles.

‘Don’t fret, dear heart – there’s plenty of ways to talk.’

The sailor tamped down the swell of homesickness the memory elicited, breath stuttering for just a second before smoothing back out as he tried to recall more of his grandma’s advice.

He couldn’t sign through a door, and he doubted that Time knew morse; so what now?

‘What if you try working out what you want to say before you say it? That way the words may be more likely to wait their turn.’ A warm smile. ‘Even if you need to use your voice, you can still practise with your hands, okay?’

Wind missed his grandma so fiercely it made his chest ache.

He allowed himself a few seconds to wallow in it, before he put that hurt away for another day – quietly resolving to write a letter home when he got the chance.

‘Work out what you want to say’. A touch difficult, given that most of him still automatically recoiled at the concept of talking about his feelings while they were still raw.

But-

But Time had stayed, seemingly content to wait outside the door for as long as it took. He had even shared what was clearly an old, deeply embedded vulnerability – his deliberately casual tone didn’t fool Wind for a second, he knew the sound of a still-tender scar when he heard it, and just.

He had bared that to him, if only for the slightest chance that it would help, knowing that Time understood.

That had to- That had to count for something.

Wind took a deep breath in, slowly let it out through his nose, and repeated, fingers fluttering as they ran through different sentence starters.

He couldn’t quite see them in the dim light – especially at the angle he was holding them – and he was sure his enunciation was appalling, words sloppy and half-formed, but it wasn’t meant to be pretty. It was meant to work.

He could almost hear his grandma’s fond laughter, like a warm breeze rustling through the palms, accompanied by a gentle, proud squeeze of his forearm.

‘There’s my boy, mumbling away. Take all the time you need, love. We’re not going anywhere.’

Time waited, patient as the rising sun.

After about the fifth round or so, the knot his voice had tied itself in finally loosened, ready to try again.

Wind’s hands fell still, job done. He paused for a brief moment before signing, purposefully crisp and clear and familiar, ‘thank you, love you’.

Then, after a moment’s hesitation, ‘miss you’.

Grandma was going to get the biggest hug when he got back. That was already a fact, but now it was a promise.

“I…” Wind haltingly started – wavering for just a second as the words threatened to wither up again, before he took a shaky breath in and wrapped his arms around himself in a poor imitation of an embrace.

Courage scraped together, eyes screwed shut, he finally said, in the tiniest voice:

“I-I don’t like. Birds.”

The admission hung in the air between them, coiling with the dust motes that danced in the crack of light from door.

It was nothing, really. An understatement at best, but it already felt like some weight had lifted from his chest; not gone, but infinitely lighter.

Buoyed by this tiny success, the sailor hastened to clarify before Time could say anything.

“N-not all birds! Most of them are f-fine, actually; I love seagulls, a-and even the k-karg- kargarocs aren’t too bad anymore!”

Wind wrinkled his nose slightly, looking to the side. “Even if they are all a b-bunch of cranky, bullying bastards,” he muttered to himself.

There was an extremely faint huff of laughter through the door.

The sailor uncurled a little, hammer handle shifting against his legs. “Basically all regular birds are f-fine, really, it’s just. The b-big ones. Anything bi- bigger than a kargaroc.”

His fingers found his joy pendant, fiddling with the delicate wings.

“They f-freak me out,” he finished lamely, voice cracking slightly on the last word.

Time hummed, considering, then said “Okay.”

No judgement, no questions. Just simple acceptance.

Wind was struck for a second, taut nerves left reeling at how… easy that had been. It was like climbing a set of stairs, only to lift your foot for a step that wasn’t there and be left stumbling off-balance for a split second.

Was that it?

“…Th- That’s it?” Wind asked cautiously.

“That’s it,” Time confirmed, with the smooth grace of someone who knew exactly what the other was thinking.

“…Huh.”

A tiny, fizzing bubble of pure relief slowly expanded in the sailor’s chest, the heady sensation lifting more of that pressure off his lungs.

He hadn’t realised how badly he’d needed to just… tell someone.

Still, just to double check, Wind tried “S-So you’re not gonna ask me wh- why?”

The old man hummed again. “…Depends. Do you want me to ask you why?”

Wind fell silent for a few long moments, staring a hole into the box jamming the door shut as he mulled the question over.

It would be simple to just leave it, to shove it into a back corner somewhere and try to forget that this ever happened. That was his initial knee-jerk reaction, but…

“I don’t- don’t know,” he said finally.

“That’s perfectly alright,” Time said, voice gentle.

Wind wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the soothing tone, like he was a skittish piglet. To be entirely fair, he felt an awful lot like a skittish piglet, but it was the principle of the matter, the tattered remnants of his teenage pride argued.

“Tell you what,” Time continued after a moment, “If you want, I can give you a broad rundown of what will likely happen either way – would that help?”

Knowing what to expect would be incredibly convenient…

Wind hummed a wordless assent, and Time’s shadow shuffled position again.

“If you don’t want to tell me more, I won’t ask,” he started simply, “I’ll still wait here with you for as long as you need, but it can be in silence if you so desire.”

The casual assurance that the other would stay, like he hadn’t considered doing otherwise for even a moment, had that weird feeling in the sailor’s chest twisting in on itself again.

It was, naturally, immediately spoiled by “Later we can tell the others- Don’t give me that face, it’s important.”

“’M not giving you any face,” Wind muttered mutinously, absolutely lying through his teeth. Then, “How could you even tell that, you can’t s-see me.”

“I have this magical ability called ‘knowing what you boys are like’,” Time stated with a bone-dry amusement. “It’s served me very well over the course of this journey.”

The sailor pulled another, vaguely affronted face at the door. “Th- That’s cheating.”

“You and I have very different ideas of what constitutes cheating,” came the mild reply – which was rich considering the fact that this was the man who regularly robbed game houses blind as a hobby.

Besides, everyone knew it was only cheating if you got caught. Or drew attention to it, Time.

“The point is, the others do need to be informed,” the old man said, serious once more, “Hiding something like this could lead to you or someone else getting seriously hurt.”

Wind’s face got a lot more affronted.

“Wh- I’ve been doing f-fine so far, you d-don’t need to baby me all of a sudden!” he protested.

“Wind, what happened today was not fine,” Time almost snapped, the faintest hint of annoyance finally seeping into his tone.

Wind flushed furiously. “Y- Yeah, but-“

“You shouldn’t have gone through that!” the old man continued, “And the whole incident could have been avoided, had we known to keep the loftwings away. But we didn’t, because you didn’t tell us.”

The boy’s ears pinned back further with every word – it was almost like he was seven again, getting chewed out for sneaking up to the Fairy Forest by himself.

Time paused, irritation fading, before he gave a weighted sigh.

“Do you think we ‘baby’ Legend by staying close to him when it storms?” he asked heavily.

‘But you guys actually respect Legend’, Wind very decidedly did not say, fully aware that that wasn’t fair to either of them.

“What about when we help Sky manage his breathing fits? Are we coddling Wild when we give him the space he needs to process what little he can recall?”

“…N- No,” Wind muttered, ears somehow drooping lower in chastised defeat.

“Exactly,” Time said, voice soft once more. “The others need to know, so they can make accommodations for it. We cover for each other, remember?”

“…I r’member,” he reluctantly ceded.

Time knocked on the wood gently to get his attention. “You don’t even have to go in depth if you don’t want to, a simple ‘big birds are a no’ will suffice,” he assured.

The sailor shifted guiltily. “B- But- Sky-“

“Sky will be more than understanding.”

But he had been so excited to introduce them all to his loftwing, to his home, Wind didn’t want to spoil that-

“Sailor, you don’t even have to tell all of them yet, if that’s such an issue,” Time said, “But at least tell the Captain, so he can work around it, or someone.”

Ugh-

“Have you t-told anyone about the clock- clock tower thing?” Wind more than a little vindictively asked, then immediately regretted.

“Yes, Warriors,” the old man replied easily, to his surprise. “He’s known for quite a while now, along with many other things that I’m sure you and I have no idea of. He’s quite diligent about keeping track of everyone’s needs.”

Oh.

“O-Oh.”

“I’m pretty sure he writes every issue he knows about down,” Time continued, tone ponderous, “In code. Which does seem a touch redundant, given that none of us can read his Hylian in the first place, but he takes privacy regarding these sorts of things very seriously.”

The door rattled slightly as the other presumably shook himself to get back on track.

“The point remains, you need to tell at least some of the others; we fight too many airborne enemies for you to be potentially risking yourself like this.”

Wind bit down on the urge to continue arguing that it was usually fine – not wanting to spark a full-blown lecture – and instead opted for a petulant “I t-told you.”

“You did,” Time said gently, “And I’m glad that you were able to trust me with it. That must’ve taken a lot of bravery.”

(He didn’t feel brave. Especially as he miserably shrunk in on himself at the soft pride in the elder’s voice.)

“But there’s only so much I would be able to do by myself. I can’t be there in every situation; and it’d only be so long before one of the others would notice something was up.”

Wind screwed up his face for a few seconds, thoroughly displeased, then huffed out a dejected sigh. He hated it, but the old man had made a very good point – if he froze up like that again, but on a battlefield…

“…N- No one will laugh?” he checked hesitantly.

“If they do, I give you full permission to shove them off the side of the island,” Time said firmly, which, wow, he really was serious about this. “None of them will, they know far better, but just in case.”

The sailor let out a shaky breath.

It was just in case. They only had to know enough to work around.

His lips trembled for a moment as they reluctantly parted.

“O- Okay,” he hoarsely whispered, slumping in defeat.

It was just in case.

“Thank you,” Time said, the utter relief in his voice making Wind’s heart do that weird twisty thing again. “I know it’s quite a daunting task – but it’s a weight off my chest, knowing we’ll hopefully be able to help avoid a repeat of today.”

Having their usually stoic de-facto leader openly worry over him was… disconcerting, to say the least, Wind’s cheeks somehow flushing further at the attention.

It wasn’t the first time it’d happened; they all remembered the time he and Sky had caught some sickness the two of them had never encountered. Time had been one of the ones who barely slept the entire time, keeping a dogged watch over them throughout the entire awful week – brushing hair back from sweat-soaked foreheads and whispering broken assurances whenever a few exhausted, miserably ill sobs slipped out.

This time, however, Wind didn’t have a feverish haze to hide behind. All he had between him and the old man’s words was a wooden door and a few boxes, which was not nearly enough to keep his half-embarrassed shuffling around at bay.

He accidentally bashed his ankle against one of the boxes, whatever was in it clattering loud enough to mask his bitten-off yelp. The movement knocked over some tool that’d been leaning up against it – he barely caught the handle before it could land on his face.

He did not, however, catch the bucket that was apparently also there, leaving it to fall on his already injured foot with a muted clang.

“Ow, fuck-“

“You alright in there?” Time asked.

“F- Fine! I’m fine!” Wind said quickly as he hastily shoved everything back where it belonged, cheeks now burning for a different reason.

He blindly probed his fingers around his ankle. No blood; just a bit of grazed skin and what would likely become a fairly impressive bruise, if that lump was anything to go by.

The dim outline of the box still got an extremely dirty look for its troubles.

He adjusted his position again, careful to avoid touching anything else in the cramped shed. Next time, panic-him needed to find somewhere that wasn’t already being used for storage; this was steadily proving itself to be stunningly uncomfortable.

Wind tapped his feet against the ground a few times. His knees hurt.

He shuffled down slightly, fiddling once more with his joy pendant in an attempt to stave off his newfound restlessness.

“You sure you’re okay?” Time asked once more, now sounding fainting bemused.

“’M fine,” the sailor stressed again, “There’s just. Not a- Not a lotta room in here.”

Especially once you had a giant hammer taking up half the available space, even with what had already been there haphazardly shoved aside.

“No, I can’t imagine it is,” Time agreed, doing a fantastic job of sounding sympathetic towards his self-inflicted plight. “Would you like to come out, or would you rather stay in there for a bit longer?”

Wind chewed on his cheek, tracing the filigree antenna with a thumb.

“What’ll the other o-option do?” he asked, ignoring how that was an answer in and of itself, “For th- the. The ‘talking about it’ thing?”

Time was kind enough to not call him out on his blatant attempt to redirect his attention, instead settling back against the door with a hum.

“Well,” he started, “I won’t lie, for the most part, the same thing. I’ll stay here as long as you need – and yes, we will still tell the others-“

Wind groaned, thumping his head back against the wall.

“-So really, the only difference is rather straightforward. You’ll talk, as much or as little as you want…” Time knocked a single knuckle softly on the door, “…And I’ll listen.”

In hindsight, it was fairly obvious; but having his options laid out in front of him made the choice slightly less overwhelming to think about. He twisted the string of his necklace around his fingers, considering.

“…Just t-talk?” he asked.

“Mhm. It might not seem like much,” a soft scuff that was likely a shrug, “But, from my experience, having someone to confide in can make things seem a little lighter.”

How long had it been since Wind had been able to spend a late night huddled in the crow’s nest with Tetra, sharing hushed, half-remembered nightmares of stone and silk and steel?

How long since they had spent hours pointing out familiar constellations, until Zuko found them in the morning dozing against each other’s shoulders?

How long since he had talked about this part of him to someone who understood?

Wind let the string untangle from his fingers, the pendant falling back against his chest.

Too long.

He was tired of being alone in this.

“I-I,” the sailor started weakly, before he had the chance to change his mind, “I th- thi- think-“

He cut himself off, gave a breathless huff of frustration, and decided to cut straight to the chase.

“My little sister got take- taken by a bird. A-at the start of m’ journey.”