Chapter Text
It started with, of all things, a fundraising ball.
The Chain had landed in Warriors’ Hyrule just in time to attend the ball Artemis had been working on for months. It was exceedingly flamboyant, overly pretentious, and more than a little gaudy.
And it was exactly the type of ball the snooty upper nobles of his Hyrule fawned over.
Legend scowled, tugging at the too tight collar of the ridiculous outfit he’d been forced to wear. It was hot, made of the finest of silks and beridden by far too many jewels. The boots were shined to mirror smoothness and worst of all, it had pants.
In Warriors’ defense, he’d offered all of them an out.
“It’s not anything special and none of you is expected to attend,” he’d said, cheeks tinged pink from what Legend presumed was embarrassment. “Artemis made it clear that only the local hero is needed. No one will even know who any of you are and if they do, you’ll likely get fawned over endlessly. And it’s going to be long.” Warriors’ shoulders slumped as he added, “Really long. But,” he straightened and flipped his bangs up with a quick flick of his hand, “It’s for the restoration fund. So my attendance is mandatory.”
That would have been that: a night in or perhaps a stroll around town, an evening away from the pretty boy and without any other responsibilities expected of him.
But Time and Wind had been adamant on attending, countering Warriors’ every deflection. Something was off in the way the three of them argued. Legend couldn’t quite pin down what it was that sent alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind, but it wasn’t a feeling he could ignore.
So, to the surprise of everyone, he’d volunteered to attend as well. No one else had been foolish enough to join.
He scratched at his pants, cursing his past self for what seemed to be the worst decision of his life.
They’d been here for what felt like hours and it was exactly as Warriors’ had described: insufferable incarnate. Warriors danced between tables and families, chatting them up with that damned perfect smile of his, moving with a grace only he seemed capable of in dress boots so slick they threatened a spill with each step. Time and Wind chatted with random tables as well, not in the same manner as Warriors but just as amicable. Both kept a side eye on Warriors, almost as though they were afraid to lose sight of him.
Legend, meanwhile, did his best to enjoy the band. They played with an ease that spoke of years of practice and brought the only joy to be found in the room. They mostly drowned out the voices nearby, leaving Legend to stew in his own poor choices.
Artemis freed the floor open to dancing and Warriors was off again, now literally dancing with innumerous nobles of every kind. And all the while, he kept that pretty boy grin plastered to his face. In all the time they’d traveled together, he’d never seen Warriors smile in any way that wasn’t perfect and rehearsed. It was one of his most annoying habits and Legend couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d spent looking in a mirror to practice it.
His stomach growled, finally forcing him out of his chosen retreat and out into the chaos of the dance floor as he searched for the finger foods he’d seen earlier. When he found the table, he was rewarded with delicate pastries, exotic cheeses, meats, fruits and vegetables. He nabbed himself a few pieces and began to munch on them, finding himself glaring at the throng of people in the ballroom.
“If I ever got him in a room, you wouldn’t see me until late the next day,” a high pitched voice tittered nearby. Legend flicked his ears towards it, unable to help himself eavesdropping.
“Even after he whored himself out to that witch?” another said.
The veteran frowned, unease creeping up his spine.
“Not soon enough, if you ask me,” a third voice said. “Could have saved a lot of lives if he’d not been such a prude about the whole ordeal.”
Legend flitted his gaze about, searching with only his eyes for the source of the conversation. He spotted a group not far away, all chatting over what was likely a bowl of some type of sweet alcoholic drink by the smell of it. A tall woman in a purple dress gasped at the older gentlemen who had spoken. Their third was a slip of a thing, impossible to grasp an obvious gender or age as far as Legend could tell.
Purple dress slapped the man’s hand. “Not all of us are as open to meaningless relationships as you are, Brad,” she said.
The other person interrupted before Brad could defend himself. “From what I hear, he’s quite open to them, if you get what I’m saying,” they said, blushing as they shot a glance at Warriors, vanquishing any doubts Legend had harbored as to identity of the subject matter.
“Exactly!” Brad said, pumping a hand into his fist. “The man is more than willing to whore himself out when it’s to his benefit, but as soon as Hyrule needed him to step up, he dallied around playing hero rather than save us the trouble of war.”
The trio continued to debate the ethics of easy sexual encounters and the price of a war fought over one man. That quickly devolved into the person who clearly had no shame in describing the lewd acts they’d imagined Warriors had engaged in with whoever the fuck Cia was and what they’d like to do to him were they to get him alone.
Legend scoffed and rolled his eyes, removing himself from the situation before he could do something rash. Warriors had made them promise to be on their best behavior, and while he wasn’t surprised that his brother’s propensity for sleeping with nearly anyone that breathed was well known by his fellows, the disregard for his ability to consent and the disgusting lack of respect for him as a person was too much for him to stand and do nothing about if he stayed within earshot for even two seconds longer. He considered a glass of wine himself but decided against it, making a bee line for his old spot near the band.
The crowd did nothing to ease his journey. He was jostled repeatedly and nearly bowled over at one point by a much larger man than himself. Legend glared up at the beast of a man, hoping to convey his irritation through his facial expression alone, and continued forcing his way through the crowd.
He ended up trapped near Warriors of all people. The man still wore that stupid smile as a woman with breasts barely contained by her bodice draped herself over him, face flush with alcohol. Her hands wandered inappropriately as they swayed to the music, but Warriors seemed to either not notice or not mind. It was no wonder his people thought him easy when he seemingly encouraged this type of behavior.
Legend caught a glimpse of his brother’s face and stumbled to a stop, heart thudding painfully in his chest. He’d expected to see Warriors’ usual confidence and perhaps even a bit of an arrogant tilt to his chin, a brag at the attention being thrown at him from every direction, but what he saw instead left him frozen in indecision.
Blown pupils, wide eyes, a light tremble in his ears as he strained to keep them from pinning themselves to the sides of his head in terror. Warriors met Legend’s gaze, eyes silently screaming for help, a terrifying contrast to the perfect smile engraved on his face.
Legend briefly looked for Time and Wind, but didn’t see either of them. That sent another shiver of panic up his spine. With little other choice than to improvise, Legend quickly fell into the rhythm of the song and slid smoothly between Warriors and the woman determined to melt into him.
“Hey!” she snapped, indignant and bold from the alcohol. “Who do you think you are?!”
Legend flashed a bejeweled hand at her. “Someone far more important than you who has waited long enough for my dance with the hero,” he hissed, putting on the mannerisms of a haughty noble he’d learned long ago from mocking Fable at similar events in his Hyrule.
The woman scowled, but either she was smarter than she looked, or too drunk to argue further.
Legend grasped Warriors’ hands in his and fell into an easy waltz. His brother stumbled along, uncharacteristically clumsy and uncoordinated.
“What’s going on?” Legend whispered, leaning closer than he’d have liked to remain unheard.
Warriors looked down at Legend, letting his hair fall into his face to hide his expression, a surprisingly tactical move on his part. He licked his lips, eyes darting nervously about and fingers gripping far too hard on Legend’s.
“I can’t—I thin’ I—‘s hot—” His voice was hoarse and thick, words alarmingly slurred. “Impa...or Art’m’s...ou’si’…” Warriors stepped on Legend’s foot, tilting forward towards the smaller man, off balance and only saved from falling due to Legend’s quick reflexes.
“Shit…” Legend said. He gave the room another quick visual search but didn’t see Time, Wind, Warrior’s Impa or Artemis. “Where the hell are they?”
When he looked back at Wars for an answer, he realized immediately he wasn’t going to get one. The man’s eyes had taken on a glazed, distance look.
“Fuck,” Legend said. “We’re getting you out of here.” The veteran tugged at Warriors’ hands, doing his best to disguise their rapid retreat as an enthusiastic dance. Hands pawed at the two of them, mostly Warriors, in a vain attempt to slow them down, but Legend wasn’t having it.
As they reached the door that led to the gardens, Impa burst in, a severe scowl on her countenance. She took one look at the barely standing hero and his unwilling dance partner and pulled them both out, locking the door behind them.
“What happened?” she said, taking Warriors from Legend’s barely sustained grasp and sitting him on the ground. The Captain’s skin had faded to a sickly green tinged palor. His forehead was soaked in sweat and he couldn’t seem to hold his own head up. Impa pried his eyes open and tried to make eye contact, but the task was beyond him.
“I don’t know,” Legend said, trying to slow the painful pounding of his heart. “I just saw him on the dance floor and he—something was wrong. I got him out as quickly as possible.”
Impa lightly slapped Warriors’ cheek, trying to jar the man into alertness.
“Was there anyone with him?”
“A woman was half glued to him. I practically pried her off him,” Legend confirmed.
“Where’s Zelda?”
“I didn’t see her,” Legend said. “Or Time or Wind, either.”
Impa dug through a pack at her side, muttering quietly to herself. Legend fought the urge to kneel besides Warriors, too afraid of his brother’s current vulnerability being further compromised by someone attacking them. He couldn’t resist a quick look at him, a gasp escaping his throat as he saw how much farther the man had deteriorated in mere seconds.
His head was slumped forward on his chest and each breath was ragged. Blood trickled out the sides of his lips. Somehow his skin had paled even further. Sweat drenched his hair and tunic collar, turning normally bright blond hair dull and dark.
Legend tore his gaze away, more alert than ever for potential ambushes.
“He’s poisoned, isn’t he?” Legend asked, keeping his eyes away from his possibly dying older brother.
“Yes, but I recognize the symptoms,” Impa said, still digging through her pouch. “Ah, here it is.”
Legend flitted his gaze to her, surprised to see a syringe as well as a small glass vial of some type of fluid. It was an odd shade of gray and appeared thick, almost like honey. The veteran knew from experience that it would hurt like a bitch to inject.
But Impa didn’t hesitate. She measured out presumably the proper dose and jabbed Warriors’ thigh without mercy. Even worse, Warriors didn’t react to either the stab or the injection. She removed the needle and sat down beside Warriors, lifting him half into her lap, tilting his head back onto her shoulder and pushing his chest up so that he couldn’t curl in on himself.
“Come on, Link, breathe,” she muttered, gently rubbing his neck.
Each breath was wet with blood and strained as though choked by smoke. But Impa’s efforts weren’t for naught: she’d opened up his airway enough for him to draw in deeper and deeper breaths. Color returned to his face, though he seemed to be sweating more than before. Legend found his hand drifting to his sword, gripping the hilt far tighter than necessary.
“Wars!” a familiar voice called. Legend snapped his gaze towards the sound, relieved to see Wind rushing over to them.
“Where have you been?” Legend growled. “I thought you two were watching him for a reason!”
Wind skidded to a halt on his knees, doing the same eye check Impa had performed previously. “We were. Then Artemis got dragged away by some ‘official business’ and Time thought it seemed suspicious. And then I got accosted by some guards for ‘impersonating a war hero’!”
Impa’s eyes took on a dangerous glint. “Well planned, then,” she muttered. “We’re going to have to investigate everyone in attendance and all the guards on duty.”
“No,” a new voice interjected. Legend turned, surprised to see Artemis and Time approaching, both with concern written on every facet of their person. It was the former who had interrupted. “This is deeper than that. We need to examine the entire staff.”
Time crouched next to Warriors, fear and an odd immature uncertainty in his eyes. “Is he going to be alright?” he asked, checking for Warriors’ pulse as he spoke.
“Is everyone here going to keep acting like this is a normal occurrence?” Legend said, forestalling anyone else from speaking first. “He just got poisoned.” He pointed at Time and Wind. “You two were watching him! You knew something might happen!” He whirled on Impa and said, “And you had multiple antidotes ready in your pouch!” Finally, he turned to Artemis. “And you’re talking about uprooting your entire staff just to root out one assassin! What is going on?”
There was a beat of silence, then, in a voice so quiet that none of them would have heard it had they not been isolated, Warriors said, “It was just an assassin.”
To Legend’s relief, his voice was strong and true. To his dismay, his tone implied that ‘just an assassin’ was a simple enough explanation for everything he’d been forced to witness. He glared at the Captain, noting the still drying sweat, skin a little too pale, and the blood that ran from the corner of his lips to his collar.
He jabbed a finger at Warriors, redirecting his fear into fury as he said, “Don’t you try and pretend this was normal! What the fuck is wrong with all of you?”
Warriors sagged, shooting a pleading glance at everyone around them before finally leveling his gaze at Legend. “I...don’t talk about my ‘adventure’ often. I think,” he swallowed, hesitant, then said, “I think I owe you an explanation.”
And that was when Legend learned about Cia, the woman alluded to by the gossiping reprobates he’d overheard speaking about Warriors like a piece of meat or a chess pawn, depending on who led the conversation. The idea that Warriors’ mere existence was enough to spawn a war had led to tension amongst the people of Hyrule and no amount of diplomacy or heroics between Warriors or Artemis could sway those who blamed him for it, though he avoided talking about how exactly that issue had been dealt with and spoke of them with far more sympathy than Legend felt was warranted. He noted that Warriors seemed to harbor the guilt they’d placed on him despite his lack of choices, and that he didn’t speak much about Cia other than to mention her title as a time sorceress and her skill in magic. Wind and Time hovered over him as he spoke, which was far more telling than the flat monotone that Warriors had affected. There was more to that story, much more if the gossip he’d overheard of his capture was true, but Legend wasn’t one to pry.
When it was all said and done, he didn’t know how to feel. He’d expected Warriors to be a man popular with his people, what with his perfect smile, charming words and overly friendly demeanor. Yet now he knew that a good portion of Warriors’ Hyrule considered him, at best, a man whore (for which Legend couldn’t blame them as far as he’d witnessed) and at worst, the cause of so much strife in his kingdom.
I knew I shouldn’t have attended the stupid ball, he thought ruefully.
Though in truth, he was grateful he’d been there. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened had he ignored his gut.
By the time Warriors was done speaking, he’d more or less recovered. Impa handed him a red potion to clear up any lingering damage and Legend noted it was oddly pale, as though it had been diluted with water. The two had a silent argument that Warriors lost, and he drank the potion reluctantly, handing the half empty bottle to Impa with a pointed look. Then, he let out a deep breath and the man with the perfect smile and overly poised mannerisms had returned, leaving Legend feeling uncertain about which version of the Captain was real.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Warriors said, his tone warm and kind, reassuring in a way Legend had heard many times before, though rarely directed at him. The man wiped his face clean of the blood he’d only recently stopped coughing up and added, “Thank you for stepping in. That might have gotten messy if you hadn’t.”
The casual disregard of the true danger Legend had prevented from reaching full fruition set him off. It was as if this incident, this assassination attempt, he reminded himself, had been just another day of the week, nothing of note. But, as the adrenaline finally faded, Legend was too exhausted to argue against his brother.
“Right,” Legend said, trying not to collapse on the spot. “I’m sure you would have handled it just fine without me, pretty boy.”
For a second, he thought he’d seen a light wince in Warriors’ face. But it was gone before he could fully register its presence, replaced instead by a hearty laugh.
“Of course! But I’m not one to turn down a helping hand when it's offered,” Warriors said.
Legend considered arguing further, recalling many a time Warriors had rejected aid for even the slightest of problems, but decided against it. He brushed off Warriors' grin and gave a grumpy goodbye, more than ready to hit the sack after the day he’d been forced to endure.