Chapter Text
Lilith hated Wild’s hair.
As mean as it sounded, she hated how…horrendous it looked. It always seemed to have something in it. Twigs, leaves, spurs, dried blood.
She hated it. Especially since he had such pretty hair too. It was a pretty amber color, somewhere between blond and a soft brown. It resembled her brother’s hair, actually, nearly the same color. Her Link’s hair had a slight curl to it, their mother to blame.
Wild’s hair was so long too. It was a shame it was in the state it was in, and it was driving her bonkers. He didn’t even wash it properly! None of the boys did!
Except the older ones, particularly Wars. He was awfully particular about his hair. It was always a little too groomed, perfectly placed and parted. It reminded her of Zelda, but Zelda had good reason considering she usually had braids in her hair. Lilith would hate for her friend to have a crooked part.
It was probably the reason Zelda preferred Lilith to do her hair.
Today was a wash day. For the boys, Lilith had bathed as soon as the sun came up, where she could finally get some time alone. The boys’ wash day usually consisted of them actually bathing and then playing around in the body of water they had found.
Lilith often took the time to wash their clothes, drying them quickly with Legend’s fire rod. Or…was it Wars’? No, it was Legend’s; he was simply letting the captain borrow it.
Which is what she was doing now. The boys were bathing nearby, Lilith able to see them out of the corner of her eye as she dunked their clothes under the water to wet them. She was about to scrub these things to an inch of their lives. Wild had taken a trip down a hill face-first, and his poor tunic was stained green from the grass.
Never mind all the blood from the gnarly fight yesterday. Ugh. Wild had hit his head too, and now his hair had blood dried to it.
She laid a tunic over her lap, the water beginning to seep through her pants. She grabbed the scrubbing brush, pouring soap between its hog-hair bristles. She began to scrub furiously at the fabric, the scent of honeysuckle and lavender infiltrating her senses.
She repeated the process for each piece of clothing she had collected, slowly dwindling her supply of soap. The horrific smells were gone though, replaced with something pleasant. Her arms burned by the time she was done, but it was nice, mundane for what they were currently doing with their lives.
Lilith tied a long piece of rope between two trees nearby, hanging up the tunics, pants, and undergarments (yes, she had washed those too, because they were the worst ones), making sure no fabric overlapped. She looked around, realizing she had left Legend’s fire rod with the rest of their things on the shoreline. She huffed, drudging over.
The boys were currently halfway through their process of bathing, caught up in the exciting activity of trying to drown each other and wrestle in the water. Wars was preening his hair, and the others seemed to be doing something similar, most of them stealing her soap.
Well, they thought they were stealing, but she had made that especially large jar of soap for all of them to use in place of whatever nonsense they were using before.
She rummaged through the bags piled up carelessly on the shoreline, trying to find the captain’s. She couldn’t quite remember which bag was who’s. She didn’t really look all that hard; she wasn’t keen on stealing items like some of them were.
She hummed softly, sitting on her knees as she tried to find the fire rod. The bags all looked different; some handled with care and others clearly seeing better days. Legend’s bag was well taken care of, rivaling the captain’s.
“Lilith!” Someone called. Lilith blinked, looking away from what she was doing. It was Wind, who was waving her over. She sighed, abandoning her task and walking over, looking down at the boy from the bank.
“Yes, pirate?” She asked, not that upset. It wouldn’t take long to dry the clothes with the rod. Thirty minutes at most. “Is something wrong?”
“Can you wash my hair?” He asked. Lilith raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. “I like it when you do it. Your nails feel nice.” Lilith smiled softly, the action small.
“Of course, sailor,” she said, “let me change and I’ll come help you.”
“Yay!”
Lilith walked away, going behind a tree and shrugging off her tunic and pants, leaving her in the white, cloth-wrapped top she wore underneath and the cloth and the wraps around her thighs.
She came back to the lake, entering the water once she had placed her clothes a considerable distance away. The water wasn’t cool cold, and Sailor immediately handed her the soap bottle. She took it, setting it on the bank behind her.
Wind dunked his head under the water, sufficiently wetting it for her. She poured some soap into her hand, lathering it between her palms before beginning to wash Wind’s hair. She scrubbed gently, her nails raking his scalp as hard as they could without hurting him.
It was nice; it reminded her of when she’d do her brother’s hair when he was younger. He was more independent now, but sometimes he still asked. She frequently washed Talya’s hair too; her little sister’s hair thick and tightly cured. Talya also just had a lot of hair, and her arms frequently tired out while doing it.
It was the reason Lilith also braided Talya’s hair. Has been since Lilith was around ten. It wasn’t too different from basket weaving, but it was different enough.
She hummed while she scrubbed Wind’s hair, the boy leaning into her touch. The soap was the same kind she used, lavender. She absolutely loved the scent of the purple flower, since her grandmother first washed Lilith’s hair.
“You should bathe with us, Lily,” Wind said. “That way you can wash my hair all the time.”
Lilith chuckled, tilting her head slightly. “I don’t think so, sailor,” she said, not taking his words seriously. “I quite like my alone-time. And I would spend most of it doing my own hair.”
“Oh! Right,” Wind said, nodding in understanding. “You have a lot of hair, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do, and it takes me longer to wash it than it does any of you,” Lilith agreed. “Though…some of you need help with your own hair.”
Particularly their two most adventurous members. Hyrule’s hair was nearly as bad as Wild’s.
“You should wash their hair too!” Wind suggested. “You’re good at it.”
“I have experience,” Lilith replied. She continued to scrub Wind’s scalp, gently carding through the strands. She made him dunk his head under, and she scrubbed the soap out of his hair quickly before he came back up. They repeated the action until the soap was out of his hair.
“Good?” Lilith asked. Wind nodded, rubbing the water out of his eyes. She hummed in approval, beginning to pull herself out of the lake. “I’m gonna go finish the clothes, shouldn’t take too long-“
“Lilith!” Someone else called, and she halted her climb out of the lake. She found Wars waving at her, Wild, Twilight, and Sky with him. She huffed, giving up on her task (again) and wading over, the water coming up to her waist now in comparison to the less deep water her and Wind had been in.
“Yes?” She asked, titling her head. She was glad she had pulled her hair up, otherwise she would have to dry it all over again.
Wars gestured to Wild’s hair, which was wet, tangled, and had a variety of trinkets stuck in it. She raised an eyebrow, looking over at Wars. “What do you want me to do?”
“Help, please,” Wars said, looking exasperated. “I cannot be the only one who can do hair.”
“You’re not,” Lilith assured him. She took Wild’s mane into her hands, pulling sections apart as best she could. “I’ll need my comb,” she said, “the ivory one with the wide teeth, and my brush.”
“Got it,” Sky said, wading away to go fetch the items she would need. Lilith already felt irritated, plucking a burr from his amber hair. She hated Wild’s hair; it was too nice to be treated so horrifically.
“Stupid boy,” she hissed, “You might as well shave your head if you won’t take care of the hair on it.”
“Please don’t,” Wild said. Lilith huffed, starting to remove burrs, leaves, and small flakes of bark from Wild’s hair. She tried to detangle it as gently as she could, not sure if the champion was tender-headed or not.
It reminded her of when she’d do her father’s hair when she was younger.
She hummed softly, Sky eventually returning with her items, holding them until she could use them. Her fingers removed the trinkets Wild had snagged from nature, expertly in weaving them from the fine amber strands.
He really did have beautiful hair.
She grabbed her comb from Sky, beginning to pick through the knots and tangles, hitting a few matted sections. It was so familiar, the motion of picking and untangling strands. She did it all the time with Talya. Her sister always had a preference for wearing her hair loose when she was younger. Of course, now that she had a sylphwing and could fly, her sister wore braids, always wanting beads added to the ends of them.
Lilith always obliged. She had plenty she had made for her sister when she was small. Both big and small. Her sister always liked the bigger beads, she liked how they clacked together.
She missed doing her sister’s hair.
She missed her sister.
The comb picked at knots easily, it had years of experience with Lilith’s hair. Eventually it detangled and the strands were now free, long and wet. She traded the comb for her brush, running the soft boar hair through the beautiful strands of hair.
Wild’s hair was free from its shackles quickly, and were now returned to their natural, untangled state.
“There,” she said, humming in approval. “And it better stay untangled, Champion.”
“No promises,” Wild answered, earning him a glare.
She waded out of the water, picking up her clothes from the bank and walking back over to the wet clothes still hanging on their rope.
Damn it!
She forgot the rod again.
—
Everyone was now dressed, clean, and ready for bed. The boys much preferred bathing before they camped for the night, and Lilith would too, except she preferred privacy while she fought her hair.
Currently, she was the one cooking. Wild still had an injured head, and Twilight refused to let him cook, perhaps in fear he’d cut himself somehow. It was fine, she could cook just as well. She was currently chopping an onion, her unused ingredients sitting in one of the many baskets she had made from pine.
She had a bit of a problem.
She cut the onions into fine slices, cutting those up and mincing it. She had made so many dishes with her mother, and when her mother was late getting home. Her siblings always liked the dumplings she would make when their mother would be home well past their bedtime.
She added the minced onions to the bowl of meat she had prepped. It was meat from a water buffalo she had hunted. It was quite large, and this wasn’t even the end of the meat it had given. Truly a gift, and well used.
She grabbed the crushed-up turmeric she had given Wild, putting some into the meat before adding minced spicy peppers. Not too many, many of the boys didn’t have a high spice tolerance, but it added a necessary flavor. Her ancestors would murder her if she didn’t add the peppers; she would disgrace Aeshyra as a whole.
She grabbed the ginger, beginning to cut it. The dough was currently sitting in a large bowl beside her, kneaded and sitting while she made the filling. The beef broth was slowly coming to a boil, cold from its time in Wild’s slate.
“What’re you making?” Wild asked, looking at her over the fire. She didn’t reply immediately, focused on cutting the ginger. Her knife work was quick, using her dagger, the tassel on the end a soft, rusty red in the fire light.
“Whatever it is, it smells divine,” Hyrule said. “All that swimming made me hungry.”
“It is a dish my grandmother often cooked for me, when I visited,” she informed, “I cook it for my siblings when our mother is out late. They usually don’t leave anything left.”
“I can see why, goddesses. It smells lovely,” Twilight groaned.
“You are smelling the broth; I haven’t even seared anything yet.”
“Ugh.”
She chuckled, putting her finger into the meat and grabbed three garlic cloves, smashing them with the flat of her knife before chopping them up finely, putting them into the meat when she was done.
She grabbed the bowl, beginning to mix the meat and seasonings, folding it over and over and making sure nothing stuck to the sides. She wiped the meat off her hands, making sure none of it was stuck. She asked her hands in the bowl of hot water by the fire, scrubbing her palms and fingers well with soap, rinsing them off.
She grabbed her dough, putting it on the cutting board and beginning to flatten it out. She hummed softly, finding great pleasure in the rather mundane task.
“Do they teach everyone how to cook in Aeshyra?” Hyrule asked, watching her with great interest. She hummed in thought. Most people could cook, even if it was something basic like roasting fish or meat.
“Yes, generally speaking. Many hunt for themselves,” she answered, still focused on rolling the dumpling wrapping out. “My sister prefers baking though, she’s quite skilled at it. Every week there’s a new pie on our counter.”
“Pie sounds nice,” Legend hummed, probably as hungry as the rest of them.
“Wish someone taught me how to cook,” Hyrule sighed, “You know how infuriating it is to eat only roasted meat or vegetables?”
No wonder he was so scrawny. She clicked her tongue, head shaking softly in disapproval. “It’s never too late to learn, Traveler.”
“He’s impossible to teach,” Wild said, “I’ve tried. It ends in disaster.”
The words meant nothing to Lilith. “Perhaps it was simply his teacher. I don’t give up that easily. I’ll teach you Traveler. If my brother can get the hang of it, so can you.”
“Really?” Hyrule perked up. She nodded, waving him over. He got up, scooting closer to her, watching with interest. Good. It meant he was willing to learn. She passed the cutting board to him once he had washed his hands.
“You need to flatten this, make sure it is even, that way it can be separated evenly.”
“Got it.”
She turned to the broth, grabbing her spoon and stirring it. She kept an eye on Hyrule, making sure he didn’t somehow cause a disaster with her dough. She corrected when needed, but otherwise he had flattened the dough evenly. She nodded, grabbing her knife and beginning to cut the dough into small squares.
She grabbed the meat bowl; a spoon stuck in it. She demonstrated filling the wrapping and how to close it, twisting the top. He copied her, needing to be corrected every now and then.
She was gentle with him, never getting upset when he made a mistake. “Mistakes can be fixed,” she told him, “And sometimes they lead to discoveries about flavors.”
“Really?” He asked, looking surprised.
She smiled, nodding. “I remember when my brother accidentally used Goron spice instead of dried peppers. It tasted better, even if it was spicier.” They still used Goron spice in the dish; she hadn’t looked back since.
The two worked on making the dumplings, the water in another pot boiling. She grabbed the wire rack she had made for something or another; placing it in and grabbing the dumplings, evenly placing them so they didn’t touch one another before closing the lid on it, making sure it was sealed completely.
“That will take half an hour to cook,” she said, “In the meantime, we make the soup.”
“How do you make that?”
She grabbed the basket with a variety of greens and vegetables in it, placing it between them. “We chop these and let them sit in the broth with all the seasonings. It should finish at the same time as the dumplings.”
“Right.”
She grabbed the leak, handing Hyrule her knife before grabbing her own. She showed him how to chop a vegetable safely, fingers curled in. She made quicker progress than he did, but he still did good under her watch.
She added pepper oil to the broth, along with the chopped vegetables and peppers. She added the torn bok choy to it, teaching Hyrule how to tear it without completely breaking the vegetable.
It smelled good, and nothing burned. She nodded her head in approval, putting the lid on the soup. “You make a very fine vegetable cutter,” she told their Traveler, a small smile on her face as the boy beamed under the compliment.
“Does this mean I can move up to stirring the pot?” He asked. She thought about it and then thought about the time Hyrule cooked before she had joined the group.
“Perhaps…in the near future,” she said, swallowing the words thickly. He deflated, making a small sound. She patted his back. “Maybe master the difference of ingredients first and how to properly cook them, and then you can move to stirring the pot.”
Hyrule nodded, the words seeming to cheer him up.
Dinner finished without much fanfare, eventually being served and eaten. No leftovers, as to be expected. Eventually dishes needed to be washed, and it took her about an hour to do considering she also had to wash the bowls and cutting board, and the pots and pans.
She had packed it all up by the time most of the boys went to sleep, Time on watch and Wild still awake, staring at nothing.
Was he having a memory lapse?
She sat beside him, waiting for him to notice. She wasn’t that tired, not after her recent streak of nightmares. She didn’t want to see her father die all over again. Not right now, anyways.
The night was quiet, her foot tapping against the ground as her knees pressed into her chest. She checked on Wild every now and then, seeing if he had come back to reality.
He did soon enough, his body relaxing and his posture slouching. She brushed hair behind his ear, the points much smaller than hers. “Are you okay?” She asked softly, head tilting, the beads and feathers in her hair clacking softly.
“No,” he answered flatly, staring at the ground; his face painted in exhaustion. “I hate getting my memories back.”
She simply hummed, not questioning the words. “Wanna talk about it?”
He didn’t say anything, not for a few minutes. She waited, because she knew what it felt like to simply want to be with your thoughts, to not have to speak to be understood. She rubbed his back, scooting ever so closer. It was something her mother always did when Lilith had her days.
The days she couldn’t move past all that happened, when she didn’t want to speak to anyone. Her mother sat there with her, telling her siblings to go find something to do, to come back when the sky turned orange.
She and her mother would sit in silence, and her mother would simply rub her back, would hold her without question, because her mother’s love knew no bounds even if Lilith no longer deserved it. And Lilith was selfish, and she took whatever love her mother afforded her.
Her mother loved without needing words, because somehow her mother always knew what was wrong, and she always made it right.
She missed her mom.
The two of them sat there, Wild beginning to lean into Lilith’s touch. They ended up curled together; Wild pressed into Lilith’s side as she held him, a position she had found herself in many times. With Zelda, with Kaine, with Talya, with Link. It wasn’t something new.
She hummed softly, sometimes singing the words gently. Wild didn’t say anything, but he seemed to relax. “It was my mom,” he suddenly said, the worlds soft, as if they would break the world if said any louder.
Her eyes widened a fraction, but she didn’t falter in the way she gently carded through his hair, the action tender. “She was washing my hair like you did at the lake today,” he continued, seeming to curl in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. “It was nice, I think I used to like people playing with my hair.”
“And what about now?” She asked softly.
“I don’t,” he admitted. “My hair’s important to me. It’s the only thing I have left of who I was before.”
And didn’t she understand that?
It’s why she hasn’t had short hair since her dad died. Why would she cut the hair he had braided for her that morning? It’s why she wore his beads and his crimson feathers. Because it was the last thing she had of him.
And Wild’s hair was the last thing he had of his life before Ganon.
And who else would understand that more than her? The others could return to life as normal, Twilight went back to the farm, Wind found his calling in life, Wars became a Captain, Four was a blacksmith. Even Time had found peace.
But Wild was still searching for it. He couldn’t let go of his death, of his self-proclaimed failure.
Lilith held him a little tighter, because she understood. She saw him.
“That’s okay,” she told him, “You don’t have to let go of it.”
“I don’t know how to take care of it, I think I did, but I can’t remember…”
“I can teach you,” she said. “It’s quite simple. You can use my brush.”
Wild nodded, but the action was small. His breathing leveled out for a while after that, the boy succumbing to sleep. She simply held him, rubbing his back gently. It always helped her when she was small, being held by her mother.
She remembers the nights her mom would hold her when she had nightmares, when she would sleep between her mother and father and felt like nothing could get her. Even now, sometimes she crawled into her mother’s bed like a child because she couldn’t stop herself from spiraling.
Her mother would hold her, and her mother never judged her. She simply kept her close; her love creating a wall Lilith could hide behind. She knew it was silly; she knew it was ridiculous, and she felt a sense of shame every time it happened. She was the Hero of Hyrule and couldn’t even face her own nightmares.
But Lilith was selfish, and she would let Wild be selfish too.