Chapter Text
Legend wiped bits of grass off the skirt of his gown, ignoring the faint green streaks left behind on the fine fabric. He stared mournfully at the upended wooden bowl that lay in the grass to his left, the remains of breakfast scattered around it. The group of Links had gotten dropped through a portal mid-meal, which was strangely common and incredibly annoying.
He stood with a sigh, scooping up the bowl. As Legend prepared to down the delicious remains that still clung to the inside, the dish was swiped out of his hands.
“Highness, please don’t make yourself eat this.” Time stood next to him, frowning in concern. “We will prepare a new meal as soon as we get our bearings.”
The old man’s concern was, in Legend’s correct opinion, entirely misplaced. He’d eaten a lot worse than Wild’s cooking, and that part of the bowl hadn’t even touched the ground!
There was a faint spike of surprise that didn’t belong to him in the back of his head, and Legend startled slightly. He hadn’t felt that since… hm.
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered to Time, turning away with a dismissive wave. If the man was going to treat him like a fragile maiden that couldn’t do anything, then Time was free to clean Legend’s dishes for him.
Legend headed towards the center of the clearing they’d landed in, hoping to get a better view over the treetops. Spinning slowly in a circle, he spotted what he was looking for—the tips of Hyrule Castle’s towers peaking above the trees. It was barely an hour’s walk away, if he had to guess. He restrained a groan.
Just his luck.
Legend reached out to the distant emotions now hovering somewhere just beneath his own, his and Zelda’s mental bond snapping into place immediately. It wasn’t exactly painful to be cut off from her, and this was far from the first time he’d been hopping through different realms, but he was always reminded anew of how empty the corner of his mind she usually occupied felt when she wasn’t there.
Link! Zelda’s voice filled his head immediately. You’re back! The relief in her voice was palpable even without the thrum of her emotions in the back of his head. Thank Hylia. Sudden disappearance followed by prolonged silence may be your forte, but it’s still worrying.
Ha, ha, Legend shot back. It’s not exactly voluntary. And you shouldn’t be thanking Hylia for anything. In fact, feel free to blame her for this one, too.
Ah. Zelda somehow managed portray a sagely nod with the tone of her thought. Divinely sanctioned quest again?
Yep.
Zelda’s mental sigh was long and tired. Legend would’ve followed her example, but sighing like the weight of the world had dropped onto his shoulders—again— out of the blue would probably look weird to the rest of the Links. True, they were all bustling around and checking their gear as per Post Portal Protocol, so maybe they wouldn’t notice, but Legend would rather not risk it.
Instead, he drifted over towards where Twilight was seeing to the bundles on Epona’s pack, patting the trusty horse on the nose as he waited for the rancher to finish.
So, Legend began, swinging himself up onto Epona’s back once Twilight had finished securing the packs. A few of the other had insisted he ride the horse, thinking they were being subtle about giving him the road trip version of royal treatment. The only reason Legend hadn’t punched one of them for it was that they hadn’t said the words “delicate constitution” yet. We… may have a problem.
He felt Zelda tense on the other end of the bond, wariness spiking slightly. A problem like a Ganon-level problem, or a problem like you-can’t-reach-the-top-shelf-where-the-mugs-are-stored problem?
Shut up, you’re barely a fingernail’s width taller than me. You had to climb on the countertop, too. Legend grumbled, settling himself more comfortably on Epona’s back. It hadn’t been one of his finer moments but, in his defense, he did have a broken ankle at the time.
And yet I’m taller all the same. Zelda’s words practically radiated petty smugness, the jerk. Like she didn’t wear heels practically ninety-nine percent of the time. Now answer the question.
My heart says it’s the first option.
So, the latter, then.
Legend glanced around the clearing. Everyone was wrapping up their gear checks, and he was running out of time. He filled Zelda in on the basics of his current quest. The group started off towards the palace before he was even a fifth of the way through his retelling, and he almost tripped over his mental words in his rush to get the explanation over with.
After he finished, Zelda was quiet for a moment, thinking. Privately. Not to him.
Alright, she finally said. So, there are more Links and more Zeldas. Other than about nine people sharing each of those names, this is a problem because…?
That’s not the issue here! Legend snapped, flicking his long hair out of his face irritably. He hadn’t had time to braid it back this morning before the portal had snatched everyone, and the wind was blowing strands of it into his mouth and eyes at every opportunity. I used Holy Magic, Zelda! Only the princesses of Hyrule can use that!
And the princes, clearly, Zelda said. Legend tried his level best to project the feeling of a deadpan look in her direction.
Because princes are historically so beloved by the knights of Hyrule, he drawled sarcastically. Which, like, at least four of them are.
Ah, right.
Yeah.
Silence stretched on for a minute, and Legend kept his eyes fixed on the slowly approaching castle towers. They were almost halfway to the place of his inevitable humiliation. And possibly death, depending on the reactions of the people with swords.
Maybe, if all this hadn’t happened the way it had, he would’ve trusted them with what he was, but seeing how most of them had changed their tunes once they had “discovered” that he was a princess—Time was treating him like he would shatter if the wind blew the wrong way, for Lolia’s sake—Legend couldn’t risk it.
Wait, Zelda said, suddenly. If they’ve seen you use holy magic but don’t know you are a prince, what exactly do they think you are?
Legend’s sullen silence seemed to be all the conformation she needed.
Oh my Hylia, Zelda murmured, and he could hear the barely contained laugher in her voice. Please tell me that what I think is happening is happening.
Legend closed his eyes, pained, as if that would help block her reaction to his next words at all. Stupid telepathy.
They think I’m Princess Zelda.
Zelda’s laughter was so loud that it nearly burst his mental eardrums. Legend grimaced, thinking for a brief instant that the others had to have heard the raucous, witch-level cackling as well. He opened his eyes for a quick glance around, but no one seemed any the wiser. Hyrule caught him looking and offered a quick smile. Legend set his eyes back on the castle.
It took a full minute for Zelda to calm down enough to string more than a few words together. Honesty, it wasn’t that funny.
It really is, Zelda snickered. Legend hadn’t meant to think that out loud. Or louder than normal. Whatever.
Getting back to the rapidly approaching problem at hand, Legend said, pointedly ignoring her continued giggles. We were dropped basically right next to the castle. We should get there within a quarter hour, at the latest, and I don’t want to have to explain two Zeldas and no Link when we do.
Hm. Zelda quieted. She was still amused, but at least she wasn’t laughing at him anymore. I mean, maybe you don’t have to explain two Zeldas.
Zel, Legend sighed, I already told you, I’m not telling them I’m a prince.
That’s not what I meant.
Legend couldn’t keep the mental frown off his physical face. If he didn’t tell them that he wasn’t the princess, how on earth… oh.
Zelda. Zelda, no.
Zelda, yes.
Legend could practically hear her grinning.
You are not going to pretend to be me. It was less of an order and more of a desperate plea. You’ll ruin my image!
Oh please, like you haven’t been acting like a brooding grouch of a princess, Zelda retorted. Besides, I don’t hear you offering any better suggestions.
She was right; Legend couldn’t think of any way out of this scenario that came without the slight possibility of a nation-wide princehunt.
I hate you.
Love you too!
Legend stepped back from their bond, letting it slip back into the corner of his mind. It was the closest he could get to mentally slamming his front door in her face, and he’d take what he could get.
Legend spent the rest of the walk—or ride, in his case—in glowering silence, listening to Sky and Hyrule chatter about weather patterns or something as he kept his eyes forward, catching glimpses of the approaching castle through the tree branches every so often. Hyrule was telling Sky about the worst storm he’d ever gotten caught in (“The rain was coming down so heavily that I could barely see a pace in front of me!”) and the Skyloftian was listening with appropriate enthrallment.
Legend briefly let his mind wander to the worst storm he had ever experienced before quickly shoving that trail of thought back into the section of his mind labeled “To Be Thought About Never, Actually” and returning to staring at the tree canopy.
The mindless drifting didn’t last long, though. Soon enough, the group made its way free of the tree line and tramped up the cobblestone road to the castle, slowing to a halt in front of the open gate.
There was only one guard on duty—a spearman instead of a knight, thank Lolia. She had already pulled out a clipboard to go through the routine visitor check when she caught sight of Legend, perched atop Epona, and nearly dropped her pen.
The guard looked startled. Probably because she was under the understandable impression that Legend was Zelda, and Zelda had last been seen conducting her usual courtly business from safely within the palace walls.
“Your Highness!”
“Soldier,” Legend returned shortly, going for an approximation of a royal nod. Ugh, it had been weeks and his voice still sounded strange to him when he spoke, its weird musical quality always softening the edges of his words. Among other things, he had to work overtime when he wanted to sound sarcastic. It was torture.
The guard instinctively scanned him for injuries. Not that she would find any—the only actively problematic wound was to Legend’s pride. Apparently content with physical welfare of the “princess”, the guard turned her suspicious gaze on the heavily-armed group of men hovering around him.
“Who are these men, Your Highness?”
Legend could throw them under the wagon and flee to the far reaches of the country in the time it took for them to escape the palace dungeons. It was tempting.
“Don’t worry—they’re harmless,” he assured the guard. Yeah, right.
The Links seemed to agree with Legend’s unspoken disbelief of his own words, a faint ripple of suppressed amusement going through the group; Time was stoic as ever next to Epona’s head, but Twilight discreetly turned his head to cough into his fist, and Wind grinned a tad too innocently from where he stood next to Four.
The guard seemed to hesitantly accept Legend’s grudging assurance, carrying on with the standard visitor procedure before waving them through the gate and towards the final downfall of Legend’s reputation.
They made it all the way into the courtyard, which was fairly empty at this time of day; for most, the dipping of the sun towards the horizon signaled the end of courtly work hours.
A stable hand came scurrying over to take Epona’s reins, and Twilight offered a hand to help Legend down from her back. Legend took it begrudgingly. His knees had been bothering him recently, anyways.
The moment his stupid slippers touched the ground, the sound of familiar boots against stone, accompanied by a rapidly approaching feeling of glee, heralded his impending doom.
“Zelda!” A figure practically flew out of a side corridor and across the courtyard. Legend barely caught a glimpse of a blue tunic and wide yellow sleeves before it was throwing its arms around him. “You’re alright!”
Legend caught Zelda on instinct, spinning the both of them slightly to lessen the force of her momentum.
“Hello, Link,” he gritted out, resisting the urge to dig his flimsy shoe into his sister’s toes as he returned the hug. His pegasus boots had steel reinforcement on the tips, so it sadly wouldn’t do much more than hurt his own feet.
Zelda drew back after a moment, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she looked him up and down. The expression on her face was one of concern, but Legend could still feel her amusement growing to near-manic levels. And hear it.
This is the best thing that’s happened to me since the duke of the western province slipped backwards into the chocolate fondue fountain at the Winter Solstice Ball.
Zelda, it’s summer.
Exactly. Zelda shot him a grin, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and Legend finally registered what she looked like.
His sister was fully decked out in his old blue tunic with a soft yellow undershirt, his spare pair of pegasus boots—which were for emergencies—and a long lavender hat that he had honestly forgotten he even owned. A narrow dagger hung at her belt, completing the look along with the fact that she had his face. They normally looked similar enough as it was, but with the Sheika shifting spell it became downright uncanny.
The thought of the spell brought Legend back to his original grievance: her clothes. When used, spell would tuck away the current clothes of the user along with their male or female form, meaning that the first time a person shifted their new form had nothing to wear. Zelda had never needed to use the Sheika shifting spell before, as far as he was aware, which meant that in the half-hour between explaining the situation to her and arriving in the courtyard Zelda had managed to get her hands on some of his old gear.
She probably raided his room in the castle, the trespasser. He ignored the fact that she owned said castle.
“I’m so glad that you’re back! I was awfully worried.” Zelda put on a show of fretting over him, schooling her face back to “acceptably concerned.”
Legend bore her act with what was, in his opinion, incredible grace. He managed to keep his dying entirely internal as he watched Sky’s eyebrows climb to his hairline over Zelda’s shoulder.
The Links, most of whom had tensed up at Zelda’s sudden arrival, had relaxed their guard in favor of various levels of gawking.
Time and Four wore similar expressions to Sky as they watched “the Hero of Legend” fuss over the state of Legend’s hair. Both Warriors and Wind were gaping like fish—though the captain was admittedly more subtle about it—and Twilight had a teasing grin plastered on his face. Hyrule looked thoroughly disconcerted, probably at seeing “Legend’s” face make so many non-negative expressions in such a short amount of time. Wild was watching the display with slightly narrowed eyes.
Legend looked away.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, half-heartedly pushing his sister’s hands away from his hair. Zelda allowed it, instead clasping her hands in front of her as she stared at him faux-anxiously.
“Are you sure?” she asked, fingers worrying at the hem of his tunic, picking at the embroidery that he had painstakingly done over the course of a month a few winters back. “You vanished so suddenly—there was no news for months!”
To Legend’s horror, actual tears began welling up in Zelda’s eyes.
How are you doing that?
Practice, she returns, lightly. Then, more seriously, I also wasn’t joking about being worried.
Oh.
“Sorry,” Legend murmured, softening. In all the frantic explanations to Zelda about what was going on, he’d almost forgotten exactly how long he’d been away. “It wasn’t intentional. I was hoping to be back sooner.”
Legend knew it sounded like a half-assed apology from the outside, but Zelda knew about the portals and their unpredictable nature; she understood what he meant. She blinked the tears away, her practiced expression shifting into a small, genuine smile.
“I know.”
Someone—probably Sky—made an aww-ing noise behind them and Zelda turned, glancing over her shoulder as if seeing the Links for the first time. She widened her eyes in surprise.
“Oh, I’m so sorry—I didn’t see you there!” She faced them, giving them all a sheepish grin. “I’m assuming you’re all the princess’s traveling companions?”
It was Time who answered.
“We are,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s good to meet you, mister…?” He trailed off questioningly, as if he didn’t know exactly who Zelda was supposed to be. The mister in question’s grin shifted from abashed to beaming.
Stop doing that with my face, I’m begging you, Legend groaned, despairingly.
She ignored him.
“My name’s Link!” she informed the others blithely, smiling even more widely. Wild snorted.
Zelda turned towards him curiously, eyebrow raised. The others looked at the champion as well.
I’m pretty sure he knows I’m the real Hero, Legend replied to his sister’s unvoiced question, keeping his face blank. I’m just not sure if he knows the alternative of me… not being the princess, in regards to the whole holy magic thing.
Ah.
“Sorry,” Wild said, trying to cover his slip-up. “That’s just—such a coincidence! My name’s Link, too.”
Zelda laughed delightedly. “What a coincidence, indeed—two Links!”
“Three, actually,” Warriors chipped in, a grin hovering around the corners of his mouth.
“Make that four,” Four said. Because of course he did.
“Five!” Wind cheered, joining in as well.
“Yes, yes, you all can count, well done,” Legend snapped, cutting in before anyone else could throw out a number. Next thing he knew they’d be counting to one hundred and chanting multiplication songs like primary students.
He turned back to his sister. “They’re all named Link.”
“Well,” she said, making a show of recovering from her surprise, “That must get confusing rather quickly!”
“It was at first, a bit,” Sky said, smiling at her kindly. “We all have stand-in names now to cut down on misunderstandings.”
Clearly, that worked out wonderfully. Zelda’s dry tone rang out in Legend’s head.
Shut up, you know this isn’t what he meant.
“Oh?” Zelda asked aloud. “What are they?”
As each Link introduced themselves, Zelda kept up a running mental commentary to Legend, thoroughly critiquing each name.
Honestly, how did you all even come up with these? The only acceptable one is Sky’s!
Legend privately—in his own head, to himself—agreed with her.
“You should have one too, while we’re here!” Wind piped up once the introductions were done with. “We’d call you Legend, for your hero title, but we’ve already been calling her--” he gestured to Legend-- ”that, so it’d be weird to change now.”
“Hm,” Zelda said, outwardly feigning a thoughtful expression. Mentally, she had returned to laughing at Legend’s expense.
Legend? They’ve been calling you Legend? Oh, you must hate that! she cackled.
Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Legend grumbled, crossing his arms.
She was right, he didn’t like it—what was wrong with just Veteran? Or even Collector? Hell, he’d even take Hoarder at this point! Unfortunately, by the time he realized that their stupid, title-based nicknames were permanent, it was too late to change it.
Now, there’s an idea…
“How about Fable?” he suggested, innocently. “That’s pretty similar.”
Oh, you sneaky little—
“That sounds reasonable to me,” Time said, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. The others quickly voiced their assent as well and, before Zelda could protest, Fable was irrevocably immortalized.
Suffer with me, sister dear.
“How lovely!” Zelda said, smiling sweetly at Legend through gritted teeth. “Now we match, Princess of Legend.”
Legend refused to be cowed. This was the first social victory he had achieved in months, and he was going to savor it.
He smiled back just as sweetly. “So we do, Fable.”
They stared each other down for another moment before Fable finally blinked, looking away. Legend couldn’t restrain the smug edge to his grin as he turned back to the Links, who were watching with bemusement.
“Come on, let’s go inside. It’s getting dark.”
Fable started slightly. Legend could see her falling into her “Hosting Princess” mode on instinct as she clapped her hands together, assuming an apologetic expression.
“That’s right! I’m terribly sorry, I’ve left you all to stand around in the chill when you must be so tired from your journey.” She gestured towards the door she had come out of earlier. “Please, follow me.”
The Links trailed close behind the two of them as Fable linked her arm through Legend’s, leading them inside the castle. Legend went along without resistance. He could survive the embarrassment of whatever Fable was going to do while wearing his face no problem, as long as it kept the others from finding out the truth. Hopefully a portal would appear soon, and they could be on their way.
He and Fable just needed to keep up their little ruse for a couple of days. Easy.