Work Text:
The horse came back alone.
That wasn’t right. Couldn’t be. This was Epona they were talking about, and she wouldn’t just randomly run off on her caretaker unless he were missing or injured or…
Dead.
Shad’s face paled, and though he felt like he was suddenly stuck in a blur of slow motion, the whirring chatter and movement of Telma’s Bar continued around him as if nothing had happened. As a matter of fact, to the other bar-goers nothing had happened. They knew nothing of the rider-less animal that had shown up, bewildered and neighing, at Link’s empty home.
He’d left to eradicate a Moldorm infestation in the desert a month ago, and Shad—along with the rest of the knights, of course—had been preparing to greet him with open arms.
It was supposed to have been perfect. The warm tones of the bar welcoming him in, his friends ushering him back into their group like he’d never been away. Telma’s elated coos, Rusl’s arm resting proudly around his shoulders, Shad’s shy smiles. Drinks would’ve been toasted all around, and the scholar and the hero would’ve sat amongst the clanking even though neither of them drank, smiling and catching up alongside the ruckus of Rusl’s wild stories and piercing laughter.
But he never came back.
When Rusl finished relaying the message to Telma and the knights, he gently set his helmet on the table before them and laid his palm flat against the wood as he bowed his head.
The barkeep’s somber eyes dragged over the faces of her group: Ashei, looking down as Rusl was, her fists clenched on the tabletop; Auru, eyes closed, palms pressed together and resting in his lap; Shad, looking straight at Telma, unable to look composed with hurt-filled eyes and knitted brows. “He can’t be,” he managed to choke out after a long moment.
Auru opened one eye to peer out at him, and Rusl’s chest heaved in a sigh. Ashei did not move. Telma’s lower lip trembled. “Honey,” she began, only to stop when Shad’s gaze faded into one more beseeching.
“Please. We must go look—”
“Son, a horse doesn’t just come back on its own,” Rusl cut in with clipped words. “Especially not this one.”
“Maybe he’s only lost or trapped somewhere.”
“Listen—”
“We don’t know for sure if he’s dead.” Shad looked around the table with less composure than he would’ve liked to have shown. “Doesn’t anyone think it’s a little unlikely that he’d be killed by mere Moldorms? After all he has been through?”
“He was almost done for on the bridge that day, if you recall.” Rusl straightened his back, not looking at Shad. “He would’ve been if not for us. He is, after all, just a boy.”
“Only a boy? He’s—why, he’s a marvel.” Shad swallowed hard. “He did what none of us could ever dream of doing.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“Of course, but Link doesn’t just slip up like that.”
“Well he did,” Rusl said firmly, clenching his fist and sucking in a breath like it hurt him to do so.
“How do you know?”
“Epona is a special kind of animal, and I take it she wouldn’t just run away from the boy like that.”
“Is that so?” Shad resisted the urge to look away when Rusl finally met his gaze. “Do you remember how she was running amok when the strange shadows fell over us? She was alone then. Link was merely missing for a while, not dead.”
Auru finally opened both eyes and shared a glance with Ashei before concentrating a stare on Rusl. “The lad is right,” he said after a few seconds. “We ought to at least send out a search party. We owe the hero that much.”
Rusl looked over at Telma, who nodded once, then back at Shad, who immediately straightened up as if he were being scrutinized.
“You’re right,” the blond said with a dip of his chin. “He could be alive out there, and I will find him if that’s the case.”
At that, Ashei spoke up. “We’ll all come.”
Rusl shook his head. “I’m taking Epona, so she may help find him. There is only room for one more traveler.”
Auru looked at Rusl. “These old bones are a tad too frail to go horseback riding.”
“I’ve never before been acquainted with Epona,” Ashei informed them. “I doubt she would allow me close without some convincing.”
All eyes turned to Shad, and though it was superfluous by then, he slowly nodded and volunteered his service.
Rusl grabbed his helmet and slid it onto his head before he crossed his arms. “We’ll be in the desert, you know. Sweltering heat and deadly women.”
“A lot like in here,” Shad joked, even though he already felt his heart race at the thought.
Telma chuckled and Ashei even quirked a small smile.
The blond knight reached out and patted his younger companion on the back with two hard thumps. Shad tried not to wince and then cleared his throat. “I’m ready. When are we leaving?”
“We leave for Ordon now to retrieve Epona, then we set off for Gerudo Desert. There is no time to waste when it comes to our boy, right, Shad?”
The scholar’s worried eyes instantly sobered. “Right.”
The journey took three days by foot. On the third day, the duo finally broke through the mouth of the Faron woods, which meant it was only a brief trek to the village from there.
Around them the trees were stark still. No swaying, no rustling. Only the kind of eerie, picture-perfect stillness that always gave Shad a sense of foreboding. Now, for instance, all he could think of was creeping black shadows.
A branch snapped beneath his boot and he jumped. Beside him, Rusl smirked.
“So, lad. Are you sure you’re prepared for such a perilous journey?”
“I…” To answer to the negative was suddenly a very enticing idea. Instead, Shad made himself picture Link’s face to remember why he’d come all this way in the first place. No turning back now. “Why, of course. After all he’s done for me…” He sighed a small, wispy sigh. “I owe him much more than I can give.”
The blond’s eyes crinkled almost imperceptibly. “He’s done so much for all of us. I understand you’re thankful, but that doesn’t mean you ought to put your life in danger for him. You’re only eighteen, after all.”
“So is he,” Shad answered automatically, already feeling ashamed enough for having been caught sounding like he only wanted Link back for personal repayment. He already knew Link wouldn’t ask a thing of him or anyone else. He did what he did for the sake of everyone’s wellbeing.
Shad was suddenly swept into another bout of cold fear that the hero may actually be dead.
“I am aware of his age.” Rusl swept a hanging branch out of his path and continued toward the village. “I raised him. He’s like a son to me.”
A son… Now how was Shad supposed to compete with that? He wasn’t sure he was supposed to compete, but he felt like he should prove that he cared enough to be dedicated to the search. But what could he say to son? He was just a friend—and even that was something he dearly hoped was a mutual honorific.
“Watch out!” Rusl gripped Shad’s wrist and yanked him away from a large pit in the dirt, much to the younger male’s chagrin.
“My—my apologies! I’m not usually so absent-minded.” Red-faced, Shad ducked his head and nervously fiddled with his glasses until he felt Rusl’s concerned gaze leave him.
“Listen,” the blond knight began softly as he crossed the bridge that would lead them into the village, “change of plans. You’re clearly in need of some rest, so we will stop at my house tonight and begin our search at dawn.”
Shad stopped in his tracks for a brief span of time, pushed his glasses up, and then jogged the few steps that he’d missed in his momentary lapse of thought. “Rusl, that’s quite unnecessary! I’m able to continue. You don’t have to worry about—”
“I’m not worried,” Rusl returned with a warm chuckle. “But I am adamant that we rest. Good for the mind and body.”
“Oh, yes. Right…”
Two pairs of boots touched down on Ordonian grass at roughly the same time, but by then all of the villagers were asleep. Shad briefly entertained the thought that Link was only sleeping, hidden away in his house because of the hour. The scholar knew better, of course, and the optimistic thought was discarded within seconds.
Rusl led them to his house with confident steps while Shad trailed a ways behind, taking in the scenery.
It was by no means silent in the village, but it was peaceful, somehow. Water babbled, chickens clucked, toads croaked. The travelers’ boots made soft hushing sounds as they went onward.
When they reached Rusl’s home he quietly opened the door and invited Shad inside, where they stopped by the dining table to greet his wife, Uli. Shad watched as she sleepily cradled a newborn in one arm and laid her free palm on her husband’s chest while she kissed him. She issued him a hushed goodnight, nodded in regards to Shad, then left for bed.
Rusl smiled fondly after Uli even as he spoke to Shad, a gesture at which the latter couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry for our cramped quarters. I’m afraid you’ll have to take the couch tonight.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Shad replied. “We’ll be on the road again tomorrow morning anyway, right?” He smiled. Rusl nodded once, slowly.
“We’ll do our best to find him, but…” The smile on the man’s face fell. “Promise me you won’t get your hopes up.”
Shad’s eyes darted toward the ground, but he nodded, regardless. Seemingly appeased, Rusl left for bed, which resulted in a sequence of things for the scholar—the first of which being sleeplessness. For what seemed like hours (and very well could’ve been), he lay awake, staring at the ceiling and worrying over the fate of his friend.
After that came disorientation, where he found himself in a sort of purgatory between alertness and sleep. It was at this stage that he begun dreaming, albeit fitfully. He kept seeing flashes of something he couldn’t quite discern, and yet he had an awfully bad feeling about it. It appeared to be a person most of the time, but at random intervals would become something almost…canine.
The last stage finally let his exhaustion win over and brought sleep. Here, his dreams solidified, and his mysterious figure was no longer periodically human, but certainly canine. A wolf, in fact. Instead of attacking him, the beast approached him, cobalt eyes alight.
Shad held out his hand, a motion he definitely wouldn’t have tried in real life. The wolf sniffed his palm curiously, then maneuvered his head so that the hand lay atop it. With its tongue lolling comically out of its mouth, the humongous beast didn’t seem at all frightening. It was actually rather cute, Shad thought as he pet it.
He still had such a terrible feeling, though, and he had no idea why until he realized something peculiar about the wolf: It was…sinking. Slowly but surely, the animal was being sucked down into the sand that suddenly stretched infinitely in every direction. It howled in agony but Shad was frozen, unable to help. He could only watch, horrified, as the kindly wolf sank to its doom in the middle of the desert.
He woke up gasping with someone rapidly shaking his arm. The offender stepped back, staying silent to let him adjust to being awakened so forcefully. Through a series of rapid blinks, he groped around for his glasses to secure them back on his face. Once his vision had been corrected, he could identify the person standing before him as a young blond, no doubt Rusl’s son. The window behind him hinted at broad daylight, and Shad squinted quizzically at it before returning his focus to the boy.
“Hello…” He sat up on the couch and straightened his clothes to the best of his abilities.
“Hi,” the blond said quietly, holding his gaze steadily with sloping, baby blue eyes. “I’m Colin.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Colin.” Shad extended a hand, which the boy took after only a short moment of deliberation.
“Nice to meet you, too. Dad says you’re a knight… Are you the one who likes the Sky People?”
A smile crossed Shad’s mouth at that. “Why, yes, I am.” Here, he chuckled. “Is that all Rusl tells people about me?”
Colin glanced at the front door, then back again. “Actually Link told me that. He told all the kids in Ordon that story. That’s not all he says about you, either.” For a fraction of a second, the kid smiled, then regained his worried expression. “That’s how I knew it was you. He talks about other people sometimes, too, when he does talk. It’s usually about you or someone named Midna, though.”
Shad wanted to feel flattered, but his subconscious drilled into his insecurity deposit and made him question whether or not Link said good things about him. That was a silly thing to wonder, he told himself. Link never spoke badly of anyone. “Ah. that’s a good thing, I trust.”
Colin’s smile reappeared for a longer duration this time, though it still drooped back out of place seconds later. He said nothing.
Shad laughed awkwardly, glanced around the house—which was empty aside from him and Colin—and rubbed the back of his neck. “Might I ask where your father is?”
The boy’s eyes darted left when he shrugged. “Do you really want to go look for Link?” he asked suddenly.
Shad didn’t miss a beat. “Of course. Why, he’s a good friend of mine.”
“I know…” Colin looked at the floor. “He’s been gone for a month. They declared him missing over three days ago.”
“Right.”
“Some of the stuff he does is really dangerous.”
“It is. Believe me, I know.” Here, Shad sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. A flicker of his eyes notified him that Colin looked suspiciously close to tearing up, and he quickly added, “But Link is braver than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s a superb swordsman and an equally spectacular marksman. You should see him when he does agility training behind the bar—phenomenal! He’s good at what he does, you know.” Shad took a breath that wasn’t supposed to sound wistful. “I’m sure he’s all right. I hope for that just as much as anyone else does.”
Colin looked up at Shad, bleary-eyed. “Dad left.”
Shad blinked once, then slowly straightened. “I…beg your pardon?”
“He left this morning to look for Link.”
The scholar’s blood ran cold. “That can’t be.”
“He said he didn’t want you to get hurt. It was too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous!” Shad got to his feet and looked toward the door. “He ought to know that I’ve done things similar to this before! I’ve handled many a delicate situation and I—”
“He knew you’d say that.” Colin paused to sniffle. “But he said that he already might’ve lost Link and he doesn’t want anyone else to die.”
“Link isn’t dead,” Shad said, perhaps not as firmly as he would’ve liked. “When did your father leave?”
“Sunrise.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Uhh…” Colin squinted at the window for all of five seconds. “I think it’s midday now.”
“Midday?” Oh, goddesses, Rusl really had left him behind. Shad lowered himself back onto the couch and stared at nothing. “He doesn’t trust me.”
“He just doesn’t want you hurt. I wasn’t supposed to tell you. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m sorry. Now I’m of no use, and I’m just going to be a bother.”
“You won’t be. Dad said we’ll just give you his ration of food to eat for dinner. He already sent a letter to get you a ride home and they should be here later today.”
“That’s very nice of him, though I must admit I’m a bit upset. I honestly did want to help.”
Colin was silent. Shad continued flatly, “I had pictured it all going so well. We were going to find him together.”
“I wish dad had let you go with him.”
It was with great difficulty that Shad held back a sigh. “I’m confident he’ll do just as well on his own.”
Another of Colin’s sniffles later and Shad had to look away. “I know I have to be strong while he’s gone, but I miss him,” the former said.
Unsure of what to do here, Shad awkwardly laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Without a clue as to any proper advice, the only thing he could manage was a soft, “I miss him, too,” and a restatement of his earlier assurance: “I would wager that he’s perfectly fine.”
Though the blond’s tears were held valiantly at bay, his voice still cracked. “How do you know?”
Really, Shad didn’t know, so what could he say?
As it turns out, he didn’t have to say anything. Rapping on the door stopped the conversation dead in its tracks, and the knocker stepped in a moment later, bearing a healthy-sized pumpkin cradled under one arm.
“Ah, hello, Uli,” Shad greeted in a small voice. The mere sight of her made him feel a little pathetic. He felt as though every time she looked at him she saw an unworthy adventurer, left behind by his comrade.
“Hello. How are you feeling?”
“I’m…” Shad’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m feeling perfectly fine, I suppose. Thank you for your concern.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Uli exclaimed as she sat the pumpkin down on the table. “Rusl said you were ill yesterday. I’m sorry you weren’t feeling well enough to go on the trip. I know how much it meant to you.”
Shad opened his mouth to say that he already knew the truth, but realized at last second that doing so might put Colin in jeopardy. He chuckled nervously. “Right, right! Well, it’s a disappointment, definitely, but I’ll get over it soon enough.”
“If you’re feeling better now, then perhaps you could?” The blonde’s eyes flickered toward him knowingly.
“I—oh, ma’am, I don’t think I’m able to—”
“Travel so far?”
“No it isn’t that—I’ve done that a number of times, actually.” He paused to chuckle, then finished with, “I’m just lacking in transportation.”
Uli’s mouth turned downward. “I guess you’re right. We have so many goats here, but no horses.” She sighed.
The silence in the room gave way soon enough to the sounds of water boiling, carrots being chopped, and Colin babbling to his baby sister in the corner of the room.
Shad excused himself to look around Ordon while Uli cooked—only because his various insistences that he could help were met with denials and “it’s all right”s.
Out in the village the sun was an hour or so from setting and, without any interruptions, Shad had managed to map out the entire village, aside from the ranch (he wasn’t a huge fan of goats). At the end of his exploration, he rested in the area that he and Rusl had entered through—the portion of the village with the strange, empty house. After he’d surmised that this had to be his missing friend’s abode, he was plagued with a strong desire to look around inside, not that he would follow that urge. Something about it just seemed magical.
It was obviously an old establishment and, if Shad remembered his history right, it was first built when Ordon was called Kokiri Forest. Back then it belonged to another young hero, much like Link.
He chuckled, closed his notebook, and turned toward the entrance to the woods. The smile on his face slowly faded as his thoughts began working themselves into a tangle. This was it: Ordon’s exit. He could leave right now, if he wanted to. (And he did, oh so badly.) Then again, rashly getting himself into a dangerous situation without protection or backup was certainly a bad idea. Despite his passionate want to find the hero, he was smarter than that. He had no transportation, no weaponry, no tactic.
He was hopeless, wasn’t he?
Just when this rather disheartening thought occurred to him, a rustling noise from behind him brought his attention to the slender form of a golden-haired girl that looked about his age. She’d just entered the clearing and the moment she saw him she smiled like she knew everything about him just from that one look.
“Hi,” she said, extending a hand. “We’ve never met formally, but I know who you are.”
“And I, you.” Shad smiled in return, shaking the girl’s hand. “You’re Ilia, correct?”
The blonde nodded once. “You’re Shad.” It wasn’t a question. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her voice had a slight drawling sweetness to it, exactly like Link’s.
“Same. I can only hope you’ve heard good things.”
“You have no idea,” was the sighed response. “But listen, I dunno why Rusl decided to leave you behind, but I think that might just be the dumbest thing he’s ever done.”
Shad was surprised by the girl’s sudden conviction. “Oh…thank you, I think?”
“If there’s anyone who knows how to track things down, it’s you. Link told me you’re really good at stuff like that. You’re a scholar, you’re smart. You know what you’re doing, right?”
“Um—yes, I would hope—”
“I think you can do it on your own, horse or not.”
There was an abrupt pause, during which Ilia offered him a warm smile. “If I were you, I would go out there. I’d climb mountains with my bare hands if I had to.”
Shad pushed his glasses up and considered what the other was saying. “You are absolutely right,” he replied at length. “I suppose I was so busy being downtrodden about the situation that I second guessed my abilities.”
Ardently, Ilia said, “Never second guess yourself.”
Shad smiled. “I’ll remember that.”
“Good. Link believes in you, and I do too! So go get him, all right?”
“All—all right!” He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to avoid looking overwhelmed by the farm girl’s tenacity. “Absolutely.”
She nodded, then took a step backward. “I have to get home, but you think about that, okay?”
“I certainly will.”
“Don’t give up.”
“I wouldn’t dare. And Ilia?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you very much.”
She smiled at him in such a soft, friendly way that he felt a smile of his own arise. Then, like that, she was gone, the sound of her fading footsteps marking her retreat back to her house as she left Shad alone in the clearing again.
He stared at the exit, feeling the desire flowering in his stomach and overtaking his every nerve. The surge of courage drove his feet forward, step by step, out of Ordon, through the woods, and straight through Hyrule field. He didn’t look back, not even once.
Brain over brawn, he repeated to himself mentally. It became his mantra throughout his travels. Brain over brawn, brain over brawn. Shad might not have had a sword, but he had his wits, and he prayed that that would be enough to keep him safe. A mind is an awfully difficult thing to defend oneself with, though, he mused, looking around the desert nervously. At least in the physical sense.
He’d been alone, surrounded by a desolate landscape of red, burning sand, for almost two days. By the time he’d gotten there, the beginnings of nightfall had chased him into an abandoned tent that he was lucky enough to have found. Now, however, his only hope was to find the Gerudo territory as fast as possible, as his chances of happening upon another tent were slim at best and abysmal at worst. If the freezing tendrils of dusk caught him out in the open, even his smarts couldn’t save him.
Such was the price he paid for leaving on his own, yet regret didn’t strike him in the least. What he was doing simply felt like the right thing.
His footing was sure as he continued onward. In the middle of a great expanse of sand mottled with the odd stone slab he heard a low grumble. Suddenly his boots felt like they were slipping. Panicked, he made a mad dash for the nearest slab, and not a moment sooner had he touched down did a giant Moldorm strike through the sand, mouth agape, teeth glinting in the yellow sun.
Shad, from where he was sprawled on the rock with wide eyes trained on the humongous worm, became acutely aware of the pulse thumping in his neck. He suspected that the Moldorm had a similar fancy, not that he really wanted to stick around to confirm.
These beasts could kill with a single bite, he thought, clenching his jaw against the pressing urge to cry out when the worm jerked in the sand. They couldn’t see, however, and this weakness would prove useful to him so long as he kept quiet, because what Moldorms lacked in sight, they made up for in hearing.
He sat as still as possible for an agonizingly long time, cringing every time the worm abruptly moved. The whole situation was anxiety-inducing, for this particular monster seemed well-versed in the ways of getting their prey to crack. Too much of this for too long and Shad could see even a sane man trying to make a break for it. If they had even a sliver of hope that they could outrun a sand worm… Well, it was either that or sit there and suffer, possibly for hours, maybe even for days.
Unnerved at the prospect of getting stuck in the desert, leaving Rusl with not one, but two lost boys to fret over, Shad drew his boots closer to himself and tried to quietly inch back on the slab. It was, he learned, a very bad move indeed.
The tiny scuff of his shoe on the rock alerted the worm, who twisted around to face him in a split second and lunged in the space of a gasp. His scream seemed disembodied to him. It was merely a sound tearing through the air like an alarm. He scrambled to the side as quickly as he could, dodging the worm’s massive teeth by a foot at most. Just when the instinct to bolt kicked in, he heard a metallic clanging sound ring out in unison with a loud wail from the beast.
Shad pushed his spectacles back into their proper resting place and cast his gaze on a figure with a red cloak, only their eyes and boots visible. A Gerudo, perhaps? No, as far as he could tell this person was male.
The figure had skated by on a rotating platform armed with blades, which had sliced a not-so-neat line into the Moldorm’s body. The monster was now wailing with equal amounts of pain and anger, and it launched itself toward the figure with ardor, only to have a bomb shoved into its mouth at last minute. The stranger had quite a knack for timing and had leapt skillfully onto the slab beside Shad.
In a span of three seconds, Shad was scooped up off the ground and rushed as many feet as the stranger could run before the bomb went off, sending chunks of Moldorm flying in several directions at once.
Shad was too busy clinging for dear life to the stranger’s neck for his nausea to register until he was set upright again on the nearest stone slab. Immediately he had to turn away and empty his stomach into the sand.
“I’m, I’m so—I’m very sorry,” he spluttered, pulling out his handkerchief to wipe his mouth before shakily standing again. “I really, truly am. I’m not used to being so…rowdy…” He felt lucky that his face was already pink from the heat, because his embarrassment would’ve been rather apparent otherwise. Quietly, he folded the handkerchief and replaced it with a small frown of disapproval. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, softer this time, as he held out his hand for the stranger to shake. “And thank you for saving my life. I was a fool to venture out here without a weapon. You see, I was looking for a friend of mine.”
Here he stopped, then looked up and caught the stranger’s eyes, impossibly bright and cobalt blue.
Not a stranger’s eyes at all.
His heart might have stopped for all Shad knew. All he felt in that instant was an overwhelming surge of ecstasy and relief, pushing him to throw his arms around the other like it was the most natural thing he could think to do. Despite his usual demand for space he stayed like that, clutching the other’s back, forehead resting against shoulder.
“Thank the goddesses you’re alive, Link,” he mumbled against the cloak. “You’re alive,” he repeated, his grip tightening without him really meaning to.
At that, he felt Link’s arms wrap around him in return, and he could have died happy. It was like he felt whole again.
The thought yanked him away, however, and he regarded the other with a more distant expression of his merriment. “I knew you were all right.”
Link pulled down the cloth that was around his mouth to reveal a wide smile, though his lip was split and coated in dried blood, and there was a spot on the left side of his jaw that was an alarming violet color.
“My word!” Shad exclaimed, only to have Link shake his head at him. “I know you don’t think this is a big deal, old boy, but that is quite a mess someone made of you!”
Link’s smile became bashful. Shad’s panic simmered down again. “You are all right though, yes?” he questioned tentatively, relieved when Link nodded.
“I worried you?” he asked.
“Absolutely!” Shad cleared his throat. “You worried everyone, I must say. We all suffered a terrible fright when Epona came back by herself.”
Link’s face brightened. Shad knew the look. “Epona is perfectly okay,” he assured him. “And I’m more than glad to know that you are, too.”
Another rush of relief warmed his blood at the thought of having the lost hero before him, finally found, tangible once more. Something about the agony of almost-loss made him want to hug the other and never let go, not that he’d act on that again in his wildest dreams. The last thing he wanted to do was crowd the poor man. They were, however, standing almost toe-to-toe and Link appeared comfortable enough with this, so Shad didn’t move.
After a brief silence, Shad said, “I missed you.”
Link’s smile grew, and he did something then that Shad had not expected: he grabbed his hand and held it between his own, which Shad gathered was the hero’s way of saying “I missed you, too.” When he didn’t let go after a moment, Shad’s nerves got the best of him, prompting him to speak to fill the silence.
“I did a rather mindless thing, as you know, coming out here like this. To me it seemed…” He awkwardly cleared a lump in his throat. “It seemed like the only option. I was told by Rusl not to leave your village. I followed him with the intent to help him search for you, but he didn’t think I was equipped to go with him. I wanted to so badly that I went against his wishes. You have no idea how horrible it was, thinking I had lost you!” He caught his breath and swallowed hard once more, flapping his free hand in a vague gesture. “Thinking that…we had lost you. Not just me. Although, I must admit that I always…”
He wasn’t sure if what he was thinking was a good idea to vocalize, but the curious way Link’s eyebrows rose up on his forehead gave him incentive to keep going, regardless. “I always felt like we were the closest, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Link let go of Shad’s hand, and for a split second the latter was terrified he really had said the wrong thing. As he waited nervously for the response, however, he realized that Link simply needed his hands back to dig for something in his backpack.
Eventually he withdrew an unsealed envelope, which bore an address that had been scratched out and replaced off to the side. Shad recognized the address as that of Telma’s bar. Link pulled a piece of parchment from it before replacing the envelope in his bag. He held onto it for a minute before giving it to Shad, which the latter found rather strange.
Link’s smile faded into a serious line. He glanced over his shoulder, then down at the ground. Shad eyed him with concern but decidedly let him be for the moment. He looked down at the letter, which began with Telma’s name written in wide, messy letters.
Beneath that came the rest, beginning with an alarming declaration of, I don’t think I will make it back.
Telma, thank you for everything. Tell Rusl he was a great father, Auru that he is a wise leader, Ashei that she is as strong as Din, and Shad that I will miss him and his stories. Have Rusl tell Ilia goodbye for me.
Shad read and reread it, staring intently at the words as if they were not computing. A faint uneasiness crept into his throat and he swallowed hard. “Link,” he said after a long pause, “Why did you think you were going to die?”
Slowly, Link loosened the tie on his cloak and pulled the top part open, revealing a white strip of cloth tied beneath his ribs with an alarmingly dark red stain on it.
“Is that a spear wound?” Shad asked; Link nodded. “Gerudos…” This wasn’t a question, but Link nodded again anyway.
“One took me to her village and locked me in a cell. Without my sword or bag I couldn’t escape.”
He paused to fix his cloak. “After two days, something strange happened.” For a moment he stared out over the sands with a far-off look, then refocused on Shad. “One of them brought me my bag, some food and water and this cloak. When I asked why, she said I felt familiar to her, like we had met before in another life. She saved my life. I didn’t think I had a chance.”
“That’s incredible!” Shad exclaimed, blinking in disbelief. “Did she dress your wound for you as well?” Link shook his head. “Did you?” This time he nodded. “Heavens! Did you check for shrapnel? Were you even able to clean it?” He shook his head again, regarding the other with a sheepish look.
Shad put a hand on his arm. “We must get you to a doctor as soon as possible! However, it is a two-day walk to Castle Town and I’m ashamed to say I’m not equipped to spend the night in the desert. We will have to search for a tent tonight.”
Link pointed toward the spinner he’d been riding earlier.
“I’m afraid that’s much too small for both of us, old boy.”
After a brief, fond smile, Link hopped onto the device and extended his arms. Shad felt a surge of excitement course through him. “Oh, no no no, I don’t think that’s a very smart idea. Our combined weight would weigh it down. Not to mention I think it would be a sore mission for your arms.”
“We’re not far from an abandoned stable. There’s a camp site outside of it,” Link replied without missing a beat.
Shad worried his lip long enough to square away his qualms, then took a step toward the spinner. “You’re sure this is all right?” Once Link nodded, he hesitantly moved closer to the platform and allowed himself to be hoisted up bridal-style.
From the moment they started moving, Shad was enamored of the scenery. Without an underlying fear of freezing or getting eaten he could focus on the fact that the desert was a beautiful place, boasting miles and miles of golden sand underneath a purple sky. For a long time he did nothing but stare at the horizon, comfortable with the gentle whirring of the machine beneath their feet and the secure sensation of Link’s arms beneath him.
Their camp site appeared over the horizon just as the sun began to set.
They sat in the dirt in companionable silence while Link coaxed enough life into their campfire to sustain them through the night and Shad, cross-legged beside him, wrote a letter to alert Rusl of his fantastic finding.
At a later point in the evening they retired to the tent, hungry and restless and not to mention cold. Still, despite the unpleasantries Shad still felt phenomenal, as if nothing could be more right than it was at that moment. It was strange. His unbridled merriment didn’t usually hold so steadfast, resting warmly in the pit of his stomach like it did now.
He watched the other lie down and put his hands behind his head, seeming as comfortable as if he were in a bed.
Shad had more difficulty getting comfortable and, worse yet, getting his pulse to stop racing. He spent what felt like an eternity staring at the top of the tent, fighting away the myriad of thoughts with which his brain currently plagued him.
Eventually he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked over at Link, who was fast asleep and deservedly so. Shad couldn’t imagine how long it must have been since the hero had gotten a full night’s rest.
He surveyed his face, cut and bruised but relaxed. It took a minute for Shad to register the gnawing sensation in his chest, but once he had he quelled it immediately.
Now isn’t the time.
He blew a curl of hair from his face and crawled out of the tent to sit beside the fire, finally facing the fact that sleep sadly eluded him.
It could’ve been minutes or hours that he sat hugging his legs, letting the cold night air breeze across his back while the nearby flame warmed his front. He found himself shivering but couldn’t determine whether or not it was because of the warring temperatures. He blinked once, heavily, and rested his chin on his knee.
Something shuffled behind him.
Immediately panic welled up in his throat and his thoughts ran wild. He had nothing to defend—wait.
It was only Link, he realized once he’d spun around to look.
What was he doing up this late? Shad wondered. He blew out a puff of relieved air as the other sat beside him. “Goodness, old boy, you gave me quite the fright just now.” His voice sounded hollow to him in the quiet night.
Link smiled apologetically. Shad had become accustomed to it; Link was not one for thinking things through before he did them and actually startled Shad rather often on accident.
This time, though, Shad knew it wasn’t his fault.
He felt things for the other boy that he thought he really shouldn’t.
He’d been thinking about something he shouldn’t have been, awake when he should have been asleep, guilty when he wanted desperately to be innocent. He could not and would not blame Link for that.
Link sat down and stretched his legs toward the fire before leveling a meaningful stare at Shad, who knew without looking what Link wanted to ask and so answered, “I couldn’t sleep.”
Link gave him a look that said “duh” and Shad clarified with, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t found you. If no one had.” That wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie.
Silence was the only response he received for a moment. Shad looked at him curiously to find that he was already looking back, head tilted, frown set in place. Slowly, Link nodded.
Since Shad couldn’t interpret that he asked gently, “Talk to me, please?”
And so he did. Shad wondered how often Link would talk if he knew how much Shad loved the sound of his voice.
“I was worried, too.”
“Oh—yes, of course.”
“I’m glad you found me.”
“You would have made it back without me.”
“Wouldn’t have wanted to.” Link leaned back on his hand and looked up at the sky. Shad, meanwhile, forced himself not to look over at his starlit face. “Traveling is better with someone you like.”
“As opposed to someone you don’t like, I’m sure.” Shad half hummed, half laughed.
Link flopped down onto his back to lay his head on his folded palms. “Not like that. I mean, I like you,” he said breezily, blowing his bangs out of his eyes.
Shad felt a peculiar whirling sensation in his stomach. “Yes… We are friends, aren’t we?”
Link laughed, and Shad, despite himself, felt a little dumb. “Aren’t we?” he repeated, perhaps a little nervously.
“Of course. I mean…” Suddenly he looked a little swept up in thought, but before Shad could ask why Link sat back up and leaned in close.
Shad’s heart might have stopped. For a moment all he heard was his heart beating in his own ears. “P-p-p-pardon?”
“Y’know,” the other drawled, “Like?”
Shad almost laughed, but he wasn’t sure it would’ve been at himself or at Link’s preposterously cheery tone, so he swallowed the sensation. “Like…” He cleared his throat. “Like?”
He felt like they were ten years old having this conversation—if it could even be called that—but he couldn’t quell his delirious and childish excitement enough to speak more eloquently. This was a first for him.
Link said, in a casual tone, “I thought you knew.”
Shad was flabbergasted. “I—That you—”
“I think maybe I’m in love with you,” Link went on to say, still smiling up at the sky as though he were talking to himself.
Shad was worried for a moment that this was all some kind of joke, but alongside the knowledge that Link would never do something like that, the other boy sat up and nudged him fondly with his shoulder. “But I wasn’t sure if that was too much to say.”
Shad opened his mouth, then closed it. Something was strange about this: Him silent while Link conversed openly. It seemed surreal.
As if reading his thoughts, Link continued, “I usually only talk this much to Ilia, but I didn’t want you not to know. Especially if I go and die before I can say it.”
“Don’t say that,” Shad said, sitting ramrod-straight, eyes focused on the fire. “You’re young, resourceful, talented… You’ve got everything to help you on your travels. This was just a particularly bad situation.”
Link only smiled at him, which he didn’t notice for a few long, dragging seconds. When he had noticed he found himself smiling back without thinking about it. “I know you,” he said. “I know you’ve got the goddesses on your side.”
“And you,” Link said, leaning close again so that their faces were close.
“And me,” he agreed. He didn’t panic this time but he could feel his cheeks heating.
They stared at each other for a moment before Link’s mouth split into a goofy grin. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Me either,” Shad found himself whispering. His eyebrows were raised in expectation and he could still feel his pulse racing in his throat, yet he felt strangely right.
“Is it okay?” Link asked.
“Is—is this?” Shad nodded in one short, nervous bob. “Yes.”
Link kissed him.
It took Shad a moment to register that this was happening. That Link was not only alive but here, kissing him. It was a bit much to take in all at once and he found that, when the other pulled away, they were both flushed and a little out of breath.
“So,” Shad said after a long, meaningful pause filled with smiling glances and quiet chirping in the distance. “I suppose we ought to get some sleep if we want to be fully awake to meet everyone tomorrow.”
Link glanced from Shad’s mouth up to his face before nodding, and he felt a thrill run along his spine.
The two of them climbed back into their tent for the night and Link tentatively brushed his knuckles against the back of Shad’s hand, humming when the movement was reciprocated.
It, like many other interactions between them, felt right. Natural. Shad could see it easily becoming muscle memory.
They laid in satisfied silence until fatigue finally caught up with them, and all Shad could think of was how happy Rusl and the rest of their friends would be to hear that Link was all right.
That and some other good news, of course.
Shad had no more trouble getting to sleep.