When Estinien had dropped you with Aymeric before hopping back to continue the fight on your behalf, Aymeric forgot how to breathe for a second.

He’s no stranger to deaths on the battlefield — his comrades he had grown up with and lost in the Dragonsong War, Haurchefant, and nearly Estinien, alongside countless others he had commanded under his hand. Heavy is the title of Lord Commander over his head, and once more is he reminded of how fragile the lives of people are. The Warrior of Light was not exempt from this weakness, even if Hydaelyn herself had smiled on the woman, even if you had once bested Zenos and killed the man before.

Especially with the Scions dropping one after another and losing their souls within their bodies, Aymeric had perhaps been purposely ignoring that sooner or later, You would join the rest of them. It might be why he abandons his duty altogether, yelling over the violence and blood at Kan-E-Senna that he was going to pull the Warrior of Light to safety. The sound of war is enough to drown out the racing heart and palms that threaten to let you slip out of his grasp because of his anxiety. He is worried. As one would be, he tries to tell himself, but he’s well aware that his anxiety stems not from the fact that the world is about to lose the Warrior of Light, but that he would be losing you. A selfish worry that he should not be allowed to have, yet one that has been bubbling in his chest since he’d grown aware that he held affections for you.

A voice in the back of his head betrays him by calling him selfish.

He is far from it. He knows this because he could have chosen to be selfish at any point in the journey. He could have chosen to abandon his post and follow you when you had offered him a position as your traveling companion. He could have abandoned Ishgard when he had stepped down as temporary head of the city-state. He could have abandoned his people and post at any point of the way, yet he stayed. Even when he had craved for a reprieve to follow the Warrior of Light after he had stepped down, he had honored the mantle and returned to his duties when he had been voted back in. He could not abandon his people no matter how much his heart craved something different.

He isn’t necessarily the first person to love you, and he doubts he’d be the last.

It seemed only natural that the Warrior of Light would warrant so much praise and love from everyone. When he had retreated and informed the other leaders that he would bring you to Ishgard — far, far away from Ala Mhigo, no one had any complaints. He could guarantee that you received the best treatment you could. Not that he doubted the other leaders, but it was more within his grasp and control. He knew the healers in Ishgard, and that was more than enough. You were in critical condition, and his main concern was that you would not die in his arms the same way Haurchefant had. He knows his healers can bring you back and make a full recovery. As much as you could with the kind of wounds you'd bore from the fighting.

Terrifying in retrospect, but you mean so much more to him than anyone else did, so it felt only natural.

He could deny the self all he wanted, but the truth was laid bare.

The word love felt pale in the honesty of his feelings.

But who was he to covet who was meant for everyone? Even if—

You stir in his arms, most likely from discomfort, and he holds you closer, ignoring that your blood is staining his clothes.

The field behind him has gone silent. Ringing in his ear from the gunfire of the Garleans does little to stop him from running through the soldiers and yelling that he would be saving the Warrior of Light. Estinien could hold the frontline where you had weakened Zenos significantly, and he had to make sure that you would be evacuated to somewhere that the Garleans couldn’t possibly dream of attacking.

He has to bring you home to Ishgard.

He brushes the hair from your face, wincing at the blood pooling around your eye, yelling for a nearby healer to at least stop the bleeding when he manages to return to base.

He brushes his thumb, bloody with your blood, over the cut, and he gasps when the gash continues pouring out blood.

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand when an astrologian finally shows up.

One of the healers hovers over you, concentrated on the wound on your face, and Aymeric watches as the bleeding stills, nodding as he continues pushing towards the airships. He has to get you to safety. You were reaching your limit. The headaches in the middle of meetings, the scions dropping one after the other, and you yourself are a scion, so it only seemed to make sense that you too would be next, but in the middle of a war was terrifying. He couldn’t bear to think that your soul would be ripped from your body the same way as the other scions.

To think Eorzea almost lost the Warrior of Light.

To think he nearly lost you.

You will not remember this, and he will lie to himself to say that this was out of necessity to ensure your survival, but he will know he is lying to himself. The same way he knows that he’s lying to himself when he pushes down his feelings for you and reads your letters from your adventures in Doma. The part of him that yearns to be with you will fester under his skin — ugly like sores on the sick, but he will remind himself again and again that you are not his to love. He will remember again and again that his affections for you meant little in the large picture of Eorzea that you fight so valiantly to protect.

You can do better. You're the Warrior of Light, and he’s… bastard child of the late archbishop, the man who nearly razed Eorzea to the ground when the Eyes of Nidhogg had been failed to be properly disposed of, and nothing more than Lord Speaker. His titles glimmer in the eye of the average man, but he is no Warrior of Light. He is not you, who carries the weight of a world, and he is no primal slayer who has destroyed multiple threats to the peace of Eorzea. He pales in comparison to you, perhaps. No. Not perhaps. 'Tis the truth.

He could never measure up to even a fraction of who you are.

He holds you closer to himself when you stir once more, and the chirurgeons take you off his hands as he watches, mildly paralyzed in the airship, as he shakes.

“Their eye.” He rasps. “There is blood around their eye. An astrologian has stopped the bleeding, but the wound is deep. Make sure it will cause no complications. Please.”

The chirurgeon nods at Aymeric, and he stands to the side, iron filling his lungs, anxiety rattling in his chest.

“My lord. There is blood on your armor.”

“Tis the warrior’s.” He shakes his head, and he holds his elbows as he watches the healers work on you.

His hands shake with an uncertainty he’s denied himself for a long time. He couldn’t shake. Not when he was the Viscount of the House de Borel, not when he became Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, and most certainly not when he is the Lord Speaker. Yet, he cannot control it this time, he finds. The fear of losing you terrifies him to no end. Never has he been faced with the threat of a shattered heart instead of an overworked mind.

He cannot begin to imagine a world where he would have to live without you after knowing you for however long he has known you — no. He knows how long he’s known you. Counted the days, even, perhaps. Unconsciously, but still counted nonetheless. How powerless he was in the face of affection that he was not allowed to harbor.

“Aymeric…”

and he’s by your side immediately, hand taken in his, your name whispered back so you can relax.

The people would most likely assume that it was out of your bond formed during the Dragonsong War, and he lies to himself to say that it is, but he knows the truth is that he holds affection for you beyond what he should be allowed to hold. He covets someone that is not his to covet. He’s held back for fury knows how long, and it’s tearing him from the inside out. Weeds in a path of stone, tearing and tearing at his heart until he acknowledges that he is beyond saving. He loves you, as the average man would say.

It’s impossible to deny, yet he tries anyway.

Bury himself in work, rebuild Ishgard until there was truly nothing to work on, and maybe then, he would be rewarded with a moment of respite with you where he could visit Doma with you. Or somewhere else. Even to have you over for dinner again would be nice. Anything at this point. He’s not picky. He just… you need a break.

Just a moment with you. Once more. Before the world whisks them both away with responsibilities that neither of them can turn down.

A second to be selfish.

But he focuses on the task at hand, squeezing your hand when your brows furrow from the healing, and he lets out a breath in relief when the healers tell him that you will survive.

His shoulders tense less, but he holds onto you anyway, quiet prayers in the back of his mind that he grew up whispering to himself, quiet on his tongue as he holds your hand to his forehead. You will survive, but he is terrified that you would never wake. There’s no way something like this would kill off the Warrior of Light, but Aymeric finds himself worrying anyway. You're the only one he’d ever worry to this extent. It’s almost stupid of him to be worrying over Hydaelyn’s champion, but he can’t seem to help it.

How horrifically weak of him.

It would take a moment for the airship to arrive in Ishgard, but he keeps you close with him, in his arms, when they finally do land, and Aymeric finds that even after the worst of it, he’s still worried. like a looming storm over his head. He’s relieved that you're alright and has made it to Ishgard alive, but surely calling his name while unconscious meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything. It had to mean nothing. He wouldn’t dare to believe that you perhaps felt even a fragment of what he felt for you.

It’s a punishment for patricide.

A punishment for leaving a trail of blood in order to push Ishgard towards a brighter future.

It’s unbecoming of him.

It’s unbecoming of him to be so shaken up and worried over someone, but he can’t help it. It’s like denying himself of breathing, and he’s denied himself again and again when it came to you that he couldn’t do it anymore. He wished not to burden you with his feelings. You already carried the burden of the world. Of Eorzea. Now, even possibly the other place where all the Scions had disappeared to. Your burdens grow heavier and heavier, and he can do naught else but pray for your safety and beg for your survival. That he would see you again once more.

It was just so horrible of him to expect that you would spare time to spend with him when they were both already so busy.

He arranges for a room to be set for the Warrior of Light, and he tucks you in himself. It’s only once the healers change you out of your armor that he notices that somehow he’s gotten more of your blood all over him. It’s not unwelcome, but he doubts you'd like to wake to him red with your blood.

Only when you're confirmed to be stabilized does he allow for the healers to usher him into the next room over to change his clothes.

“Lord Speaker.”

“Yes.”

“They will be alright. They will wake soon.”

Aymeric exhales, smiling at the worker.

Restrain, restrain, hold back. Aymeric realizes he’s been doing an awful job at pretending that he’s alright despite it all. It’s…new. That’s all he’d allow himself to say. He finds himself wavering over you regardless of how bad he wishes he could hold back. He’s held you more in the past day than he has during the entirety of the Dragonsong War or anytime before that. It’s painfully new, and the scent of your life lingers on his skin in a way that he dares not get used to.

“I must look worried.”

“Your brows have been permanently frowned since we found you, my lord.”

Aymeric shakes his head, trying to loosen his expression a little.

“You must be worried for the Warrior of Light, ser. We all are.” The medic smiles, and Aymeric welcomes the change of clothes, staring at your blood that had gotten all over him.

He cannot recall the last time he had so much of someone else’s blood on him.

His fingers linger over the blood, and for a moment, a terrifyingly brief moment, he considers smelling the iron and letting it flood his senses more than it already has. A horrible thought, really. A lingering affection that whispers in his ear to stay as close to you as possible. To admit to you that he’d love nothing more than to be yours, but oh, Aymeric is everything but selfish. He cannot covet the world. He is but a piece in your life, and that’s more than enough. It should be more than enough.

He should be satisfied with what little part he plays in your life.

The blood stains his fingers when he removes his hand from the red on his top, and he pinches and then brushes the thumb over his index and pointer fingers, watching the blood dry and rub. It feels strangely… he cannot say it. It would be a betrayal of something. Instead, he pulls for one of the cloths provided to him to wash off with, and he watches the red rub from his fingers, scent of iron still fluttering in the air.

You almost died.

The knowledge of you healed and alive in the next room over should release the tension in his chest, but it’s more than your life at this point. The knot in his chest had been building since he’d acknowledged his feelings for you during the war. Since he’d decided it’d be best to bury his feelings and let them die. But weeds and seeds crack and flourish in the ground, and where Aymeric thought he had left as an abandoned thought now spanned a field of unacknowledged affection begging for attention.

Affection that screamed for him to look at it. Acknowledge it. Beg and cry for his honesty to tend to his affections. To push him into a corner where he could do nothing but be honest. Force him to either tug at the weeds in his heart or give up and accept that his affections and attachment to you. Aymeric has spent so long trying to stop it, begging that his heart would still and let him live without acknowledging how much he craved to stand by you. The field begs for attention.

To force him to look back at the field of affection he’s neglected yet somehow still flourishes.

The world could have another Warrior of Light, but oh, Aymeric could never have another you.

You have to wake up.

Prayers in his hand and whisper to the divine on his lips, you have to wake up.

Please.

He rests in the room next to yours — a wall away and close enough that he can hear when you stir awake, but far enough that he is not overstaying a welcome he is unsure if he has. It’s already bad enough. Had he been even a fraction less disciplined, he’d be camped up in your room and working from there, uncaring for what people would say, but his concern is that you would get swept up in rumours about him. So he. He cannot. He is not in a position to do that. To you, or anyone else. His feelings must die with him.

His only wish when he rests is that you be awake when he wakes.

The night is kind to you both.

He wakes to a message from Tataru back in the Rising Stones,

The woman is inconsolable as Aymeric assures you in the letter that the Warrior of Light would recover, and perhaps it’s a sense of relief that flushes over him that reminds him that even if the rest of the world would revere you as the Warrior of Light, you had friends who remembered that you were mortal despite it all. He writes back that he would send you back their way to ensure that you didn’t just run headfirst back into battle. You have fought the good fight. 'Tis the rest of Eorzea’s turn now. Eorzea isn’t so weak as to have to have a single person fight a continent’s war for them.

He receives updates from the soldiers on the field, working from the spare room in the infirmary, giving orders and counting the names of those who were lost and sent out. It’s not enough to give orders from a room yalms away, but he dares not to leave your side. He would contribute little to the battle if he were so concerned over your health that he couldn’t even focus properly. Estinien was aiding them for now, and despite his bluntness, he trusts that he would be a good replacement on the field, even if temporarily.

He’s relieved to be notified that Zenos has left the battlefield.

The alliance notifies him that the fighting has died down for the most part, and Aymeric is glad that you would not be sent right back to fight after recovering — not that any of the alliance leaders would allow you to, but sometimes your responsibilities had you rushing to aid others before you could heal. He’s guilty of the same thing, but by the fury, if he isn’t worried that you're going to drop dead from helping others first.

He sets the pen down, pushing his hair back as he hisses in stress, familiar prayers on his tongue as he wonders if you would wake within the day.

It’s quite daunting, and he’d never forgive himself if somehow things went awry and you really never did wake up, but he can’t dwell on things that cannot happen. Things that should not happen.

Feelings aside, he would never forgive himself if the Warrior of Light never woke up.

It would never—

Shhft.

Aymeric’s running to the next room before he can think, doors thrown open to check on you.

There was sound.

And he exhales when he notices you've sat up, breath freed from the lodging in his throat, sprinting to a screech when he hears the stir, and he allows himself one small slip.

The excitement on his face and relief in his heart could be smothered by nothing.

Nothing except the need to cough and act as though he hadn’t just sprinted to a full stop to your room in excitement like some dog.

“You're awake.” The words slip from him before he can hope to compose himself. “Thank heavens!”

You hold your head, turning to look at Aymeric.

“What happened?”

Aymeric pulls a seat next to your bed, taking your hand into his as he sits down.

“In the midst of your duel, it is said you faltered, and that the crown prince seized the opportunity to deliver a mortal blow.” Aymeric starts, and the rest of his words feel like a blur. It’s just explanation. Estinien’s unceremonious farewell. The damage was near your eye, but narrowly missed it. Your vision will be back in a short period of time, but it is advised you not use it for the time being. He looks into your eyes, shoulders relaxing when he wonders how you're faring bearing the burden of the world on your shoulders.

Your name slips out in a quiet whisper.

You look at him, and he exhales.

“Please...concentrate on your own recovery for now.” He hopes, prays, begs, even, that maybe his words would reach you. Your burden was too big to bear alone, and those who shared the burden were now dropping one by one. Leaving you truly alone. But you aren't alone. The entirety of Eorzea stands behind you in this fight. It is a shared burden that you need not carry all on your own. “You have carried the hopes of some half-dozen nations, and we are all eternally grateful for your efforts, but no one is without their limits. Not even you.”

Aymeric hopes you'd remember that you are human. He’d watched you run back and forth on the frontlines of war without breath or break, and it was heartbreaking. He’d hope that somehow you would remember that the Warrior of Light was nothing more than a title and not who you are. It was a title. It wasn’t you yourself. You are mortal, and mortals have to rest and breathe and sleep. You are flesh and bone behind the title of Hero of Eorzea. Even if you would not rest for yourself until everything was at peace once more, you should at least remember to breathe in between running around.

And when you look at him with a half smile, he lets his shoulders relax.

He’s long overstayed his welcome in Ishgard. The frontlines were waiting for him. He’d been here for as long as you were out. He hadn’t let you leave his sight, opting to give orders from Ishgard instead. Catch up on paperwork that couldn’t be done on the battlefield. He must return now, but this time, without you. A war could not be fought from the office. Despite Zenos’ withdrawal, there was still very much a fight going on. You needed the rest— and perhaps to find your friends. The alliance could hold down the fort without you. The world will not end if the Warrior of Light rests for a day.

He resists the urge to brush the bandage covering your eye, fingers instead squeezing yours for the umpteenth time.

“Leave this fight to us, my friend. You have earned your rest.” He squeezes your hand, and he pauses as he gets ready to leave. “Ah, but before I forget... I was asked to deliver a message as soon as you awoke. A reminder that you are not alone, though many of your allies have fallen. When you are well and rested, you are to return home, where friends will be waiting for you.”

You smile, and Aymeric squeezes your hand one final time before letting go.

You squeeze back.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to the front. May we meet again soon. Under happier circumstances.”

Aymeric turns to leave, to return to continue the fight in your honor, but misses the way that his words do have the intended effect. You watch him disappear behind the door, heart eerily still in your chest, staring at the hand that Aymeric had held and squeezed. Your gaze lingers, and something flutters in the back of your chest, a feeling that you don’t pinpoint, but becomes aware of.

You're upset he had left so quickly.

He was human. A long time ago.

You remember it well. You remember meeting him as a human of similar age like it was yesterday. Meeting him bleeds into everything you are and were.

You held onto him like a child discovering something fun. Except, he was not fun. Neither was he shiny. He was just a boy at the time. A boy of similar age — stern, but not cruel nor mean. He simply held onto a need to appear more mature than he was. You saw it eventually after a long time of knowing him. You knew him. You knew the him that presented himself to you in long rants and complaints about things in his life. You knew him in the fingers carded through your hair as you flipped through his collection of books.

Child of the local swordsmith, truly. Your hands were rugged and ashen growing up, and you hadn’t needed to wipe them before meeting up with your dearly beloved, but as you age things expected of you change as well, and you learned to wash and oil them before meeting him, and suddenly touch felt too intimate and your heart raced too fast and soon it was impossible to deny the affection you’d garnered for him. How awful of you.

He trained with the swords from the smithy. His father was a knight, mother at home, and he trained and trained and you’d teach him what you knew about the swords so he’d swing it better. It was an honor, really. You’d never seen a boy work so hard over a sword in their life. He was almost guaranteed the spot in the royal guard, and it came as no surprise that Hylia herself had been fond of him. It was the strange land in between the humans and the gods — not quite angels, though. It was just through sheer luck.

But he still made it a point to come home during his time off despite being one of the favored knights. Just to see you. You appreciate the effort, laughing when he raises a brow at potential suitors your ma’s set you up with since you were getting to that age. You can’t have him, you know that much, but you still enjoy the quiet moments you get to have with him.

You learn to oil his hands the same way you used to oil yours when you were young and in love.

“It doesn’t help with grip.” He whispers, but you laugh.

“No, but it helps with the wounds.”

“Will I come back to you wed off next time?”

“Oh, no.” You laugh. “Ma’s worried I won’t find someone, but Pa does an okay job keeping her in check. Just make sure to come back and marry me so he doesn’t sound like a liar, yeah?”

He laughs, leaning over slightly to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I will.”

Your friend hits his growth spurt in his second year of being a knight, and it becomes increasingly harder for him to sneak out of knights’ quarters to find you at night by your window. It becomes comedic, almost. His new body is a little too big for him, and you can barely hug him properly when you jump out of your window to meet with him under the streetlight.

But it becomes exciting — chattering amongst the villagers that you had a suitor who would visit you in the dead of night and catch you from your window. A man who would walk you around the part of Castletown with your hand in his arm donned in knight attire. Your friends bump hips with you for details, but you keep everything to yourself. Childish, carefree, and young and in love. You found it quite thrilling. You loved it almost as much as you loved him.

It’s impossible, though. To love something more than you love him. You love him so much it makes you seem foolish or stupid. You’d always dreamed of marrying him. A foolish dream for a foolish girl, you tell yourself. Yet, when your friend stands under the lamps that light the night, you let yourself dream and whisper to yourself that he loves you. How foolish and childish. But it’s how you are around him. He likes it.

“How’s the goddess?”

“Alright.” He hums, letting you take his hands as you oil them. They crack more, and you use more oil, but it’s alright. Your hands are rougher from handling metal so often now too. It’s upsetting to him, but he’s fond of it. You’re so, so pretty. The way your hair glistens under the flame of the lamps and the look on your face when you see his cracked hands. The cracks in yours resembles his now. You’d always been so fond of the fire. Hard to marry off, your mother would complain. Not hard to love.

No. Not when he was here.

But he can’t say it to you, so he settles with seeing you as often as he can instead. Hands pressed to yours as you finish with one and move to the other.

“How have you been?”

“It’s been alright in the forge. Father’s been prattling about some kind of new sword that he wants to teach me to make. A family secret. Something about a double spiral blade.” You hum, stopping to look up at him. “I missed you.”

“I think of you always.”

“I do too.” You smile gently. “Is the goddess pretty enough to marry?”

“I couldn’t dream of it.” He hums. “Not when you’re still here.”

“Oh, so you’d wed her if I were to pass?”

“That is not what I—“

“I see.” You finish with his hand, patting his chest twice as you shrug. “Off you go then, back to the princess.”

It’s all mirth in your eyes, and he laughs.

“And after her, I’ll return to the one I love, I suppose.” He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I shall see you soon?”

“I hear the knighting ceremony approaches. The goddess is picking her knight again.”

“Yes.” He hums.

“Are you an option?”

He goes quiet, staring at your hand in his, blinking.

You take it as a yes.

There’s the passage of mental preparation before he even has to say it to you. You know that he’s more capable than any knight you’ve ever met. You’ve seen so many pass through your father’s forge, and none of them have had that look in their eye that he does. It’s quite heartbreaking, though. So, you focus on the sword you were planning on forging instead. The spiral is hard, you find. Your father shows you how to warp the metal so that it is both sharp and agile, and you learn clumsily. You think your hands grow twice as rough in the period of time that you’re trying to make the sword.

You still sneak to see your friend, of course, but you’re oftentimes so tired that it just becomes quiet back and forth of silence, staring at each other, squeezing hands quietly. Sometimes he asks how the sword is, and you tell him. Sometimes you ask him how training is, and he answers you. It’s a comfortable back and forth the two of you have that’s quite nice, really.

The news breaks in the quiet night one week before the official knighting ceremony.

You know before he says it.

“I am joining Hylia’s personal knight force.”

You freeze in your movements anyway, not daring to look up out of fear.

“Dearest?”

“So you are to become a god?” You whisper, voice quiet as the man looks at you.

“A deity.” He tries to catch your gaze, but you refuse to look at him.

“I wish you the best.”

“You have nothing to say to me?”

“I.” You pause to close your eyes. “I had. I had a sword for you. If you would have it.”

He blinks at you, and you miss the way his shoulders sink.

“Always. From you, always.” He whispers. “I am sorry, beloved.”

“For what?”

“That your father will become a liar. I do not wish to bind you to me when you have so much more to do. I cannot either.”

You swallow bitterly. He’s right. You wouldn’t have been able to wed him if he’d become a deity part of Hylia’s exclusive knights. It’s just impossible for such a feat to be done, especially since they have their chastity sworn to the sword. It would be unsafe and a threat to have one of the knights hold anything in the skies that is not the divine kingdom to their heart.

You have dreams too.

“You can spend an eternity resenting me.” He sinks his shoulders to look smaller and catch your gaze, and you smile weakly.

“You know I cannot do that.”

“Will you present my sword at my ceremony?”

“If you would have me.”

“I would always have you.” He whispers. “You must be the last to see me as human.”

“Must?”

“Must.”

His fingers find yours in the grass under the stars, and you break into a sob that you just can’t seem to stop. He holds you the whole time — and in the back of your mind, you wonder why it had to be him. Yet, you know why it was him. It was written in the name that will soon be commemorated. One day, his name will become a whispered legend like your parents and his parents when they told you the story behind his name. You knew it. You knew it was coming but it still hurts.

“Link.” You sob into his shoulder. “Why you? Why must the universe tear you out of my hands like this?”

“I do not know.” He whispers. “It must be the burden of my name. I quite liked it when you never called me by it.”

You can only sob harder into his shoulders.

You complete the sword in the short time that’s provided to you — the spiral, double edged finish of it making it unique to him alone. He’s held blades like this before, and you have no worry that he will be able to hold onto it. You only mourn that you will not get to see him wield it in battle or tell you how the blade would do him well.

It’s more heartbreaking than anything.

You receive the royal degree from the messenger to send for in three days when the sun is nearing its highest point, and bring the sword forged for the new knight. You agree, and you ask the messenger if you are to wear anything in particular, to which you are handed priestess robes. Huh. You didn’t think you’d be with the priestesses as someone who was just meant to be handing over a sword, but you don’t deny it.

The day comes and you change, teal sword in tow as you’re greeted by the other priestesses. Some of them ask what your relation to the goddess was, but the head priestess chases them all off as she sits you in a room. You’re told the order you’ll leave the room in, and you’re shown the priestesses you will follow behind in the ceremony. You get a moment of peace to yourself, though, when the others rush off to go back to tending to the goddess. It must be nice.

There’s a creak of the door, and you turn, expecting a priestess.

“Wh— you can’t be here!” You whisper, panicking as you set the sword down to hide your dearest from the passing girls.

“Forgive me, I just had to see you one final time before they strip me of you forever.”

There’s this desperate look in his eyes that you have to calm your heart over, and you reach up to hug the guy, heart hammering in your chest as he wraps his arms around you tighter. You breathe him in one final time as he does the same, hands shaking as you pray that you’ll be able to present his sword to him properly. Yet, you take the moment to let him hold you, nose pressed into your shoulder as he closes his eyes, and you feel his brows furrow.

“Shh.” You mumble, smoothing the frown out with your thumb as he looks down at you with shaking eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You.” It’s not that he must. You just can’t find it in yourself to tell him that he can turn down the goddess, but it’d be committing treason. You cannot go against it.

You threaten to break into a sob, and he cups your face with both hands, bending down to frown at you.

And he kisses you as he would if he had kissed Hylia herself, and you do not pull away because you know it is your only chance and you are selfish. You can only let tears glide over your eyes and blur your vision once he stops, and you refuse to acknowledge that maybe it pains him just as much to say goodbye when it hurts this bad for you. He holds your face dearly when he smothers another kiss to your cheek, hands holding onto you as he shakes.

He’s still human, after all.

“I’ll miss you.”

It hurts, and you nod slowly, opening and closing your mouth when words refuse to come out.

Instead, he takes your hand.

You squeeze his fingers before he lets go, and you swallow back tears as he walks into his ceremony with you following behind, sword held with both hands as you kneel and present it to him. He looks at you fondly, perhaps the last emotion he can feel before godhood envelops him and turns him into something incapable of feeling. You look back up at him, perhaps sorrow a little too much to bear, and he forces himself to look away to the goddess with his newly given sword.

The steps back down to the crowd of onlookers is heavy.

You’d vow a lifetime of devotion to this man, but he wasn’t yours in this one, so there’s no way he’d be yours in the next either.

The love of your life is knighted as the Fierce Deity, and you can only watch with an empty chest at the marks on his face and his eyes turning white.

He meets eyes with you as his eyes lose the last of the blue you’ve memorized like breathing.

So, you set down your heart and decide what the next step in your life is.

The crowd cheers as Hylia stands next to him, and your heart aches.

And of course, since you have already provided him his sword in his journey, you might as well provide the sword in any of his future journeys.

You are not immune to a pretty face and charismatic personality.

Qia knew this well when she had taken you in as an assistant, eyes practically glimmering when you saw her the first time. It was when she had still been a princess, but the war and fighting had started at the time, so she needed all the help she could get. And, well. It doesn't matter if you're weak for a pretty face and charismatic personality since your loyalty lies fiercer than any of her other fellow Zora. It's impressive how attached you are to her. Every day. Really. She wonders if that just means you find her the prettiest of the bunch, but she has no time to think over things like that.

Her father dies at the hand of a forbidden construct, and you send a bird for an old friend on their travels, arrows flying to fight off the hoard that threatens to weaken the Zora more than they have already been weakened.

It's a strange sight, but you suppose you're here for an equal purpose as your friend somewhere in the depths right now.

You had just failed your task so long ago. You hope they pass theirs.

The grimtorok collapses as you throw a splash fruit and then absolutely decimate him while throwing a trident. It's arguably hilarious. You've gotten better over the years, but it always surprises you how good your aim is even without the bow on your back. It's been a while since you've held a bow, really. It's been a long time since you itched to throw anything anyway. Most of the fighting in the Lanaryu region was mostly done with spears that the Zora wield. You're much more accustomed for bows, though. You won't deny that it helps that you can throw things, though. The Zora bows aren't the best, but their draw speeds are fast. Well, not to mention that the speed doesn't do much since the Zora aren't used to aerial combat. You, though? Better than them. That's all you let yourself say.

Your trident shatters on impact, though, and you wince.

"I'm sorry." You mumble, and Qia shakes her head.

"It's quite alright." She hums. "The monster is subdued. That is all that matters."

You nod.

Maybe you'll find a way to reinforce the trident sometime. It shouldn't be too hard.

Lady Qia is recruited by King Rauru to combine armies to take down the evil that's plagued Hyrule.

When you nod at her in confirmation, she takes the courage to accept as well. Trusting that while she is headstrong and brash, you will always be one step behind her, taking care that she would not meet the same fate as her father had. The construct was a vile, vile creature, yet the inside and feelings and controller of them were so, so strong and different. It was so hurtful, you realize. You wonder how Qia is holding up, but you don't get the chance to ask that, because the army starts marching north to help out the Gorons.

Not without amusement, though.

"I hear the Rito Elder and Gerudo women are exceptionally pretty." One of the Zora soldiers whisper to you, and you hold a hand over your mouth as you all keep travelling.

"Tell me more."

Everyone in the army knows you're weak for a pretty face. It played a huge part of why you had come to the Zora domain. You'd found Ganondorf a looker, yes, but you didn't want to work with him. The Rito Elder lived in Hebra, which was arguably too cold for comfort, and the Gorons are an… acquired taste. So, you settled in the Zora domain, where you'd survive well enough but also be close enough to Hyrule if you were ever needed. Besides, you knew the Rito Elder was a sight to behold, but you'd rather not be there. You were from a strange group of people that you refused to elaborate on. Three people, you said. An armorer, a swordsmith, and a bowyer. You didn't elaborate on which one you were, but some of your new friends had their suspicions.

"The Rito Elder has strange hair, though."

"Oh, I hear that the Gerudo women are both muscular and tall."

"Oh, and I hear the Rito Elder has a bow crafted by a godling."

Right. That's what they called those who were competing for the position of god.

"What?"

"The great eagle bow, they call it." They whisper. "Very pretty bow, and it's made of diamonds. Kind of like Lady Qia's trident."

"Huh."

You didn't know he was still using the bow.

Sure, you'd made the bow to be practically indestructible, but you thought he would have parted with it at one point. Well, not really your problem. The one who ran was you, not him. He probably was hurt by the fact that you ran off in the morning and didn't bother returning. You thought it'd be a scar on his reputation that he needed to keep. It was unheard of, the Rito mating with a non Rito. You didn't want the unpopular opinion amongst the elders to be further soured by the fact that you were in the equation.

"Obviously, none of them are as pretty as our Zora soldiers."

You laugh.

"That goes without saying." You agree, setting foot in Eldin as you groan, pulling off whatever you can to withstand the heat. The Zora got the courtesy of being barely clothed, so you start twisting and pinning your robes back. You'd cut and change into something less hot, like a set from the Gerudo when you visited so long ago, but you're in too much of a rush. Maybe you're just going to have to live with it.

You swing the crusher in your hand, breaking through the monsters in the Goron region. It's painfully heavy, and while you know for a fact you'd be much better if you could just throw the crusher at monsters, it's probably not the smartest choice to make at the moment. So, you listen to the Goron Elders, swinging and bashing your way through now that the rocks had stopped. Lady Qia's water proved to be wonders against some of the monsters. You let her send water your way, guiding it with the trident you'd been provided after you threw your last one in a monster's face.

In retrospect, it resembles the archery you used to love so much. The fluidity of fighting with a trident, guiding water at its tips to extinguish the flames in the way, and the movement of your body all remind you of it. It's like a dance in a way, light on your feet, smooth on the rock as your robes become less of a burden to your skin. You learn to enjoy the sweat instead, though you know you're going to have to wash up later. It's a dance in a way, the movement of water as you throw ice fruit at some of the monsters for an instant death.

When you finish up with Rauru's army, you help out with whatever Gorons you can, ignoring the Rito flying above you. None of them should know who you are anyway. The current Rito Elder was always avid to keep you under wraps. He was one of the younger Rito in the tribe, now the elder, and sometimes you wonder if the opposition ever really went away for his place in power— not that you doubt his ability to lead. You think he's plenty good at it, but you worry about whether or not he can hold for his own okay you're just worrying over pointless things now.

Everyone retreats to the Forgotten Temple in the canyon, and you bandage what you can on the Gorons, learning about rock roast and how it's just… rocks?

"I can't chew through this." One of the Hylians look at the roast.

You knock on the meat handed to you.

"Is this just… rock?"

"It's very good, we assure you guys."

You grab at it instead, ripping a piece off as you try biting into it.

Nope. Not worth the chipped tooth.

"I don't believe we're equipped with the teeth to eat this, but we appreciate the sentiment." You hand the roast back to the Gorons, and they nod.

"Let us know if you ever change your mind."

"Gaard."

You turn to face Lady Qia, staring as she motions you over.

It's still hard getting used to a name you gave yourself to erase your own.

"Yes?"

"Lord Agraston, Lady Zelda, and I are heading to help the Rito in the Lost Woods."

You know what's next.

"Are we to accompany you?"

"If you would."

"Let me grab a fish, and then we can head off."

Qia nods.

You take what food you can, eating on the way as you head over on horse. You guide the one you take, and Zelda sits in front of you as you weave your way to the Lost Forest. You'd been notified that they were somewhere higher up, so you stay with the forces on the ground and wait for the orders. When everyone returns, you notice the Rito Elder, but you don't say anything. He most likely doesn't notice you. Not when you were wearing the helmet that the Zora army wore. You'd been given one to protect yourself, and you're handed a trident to use to fight.

"Ready everyone? We'll clean up down here while the other Rito hold off the monsters in the sky." The Rito Elder nods, and everyone heads out from the entrance. "Let's start with a fun surprise, shall we? Strike at the front lines to distract the enemy."

Lady Qia splits off with Zelda, and she instructs you to help Agraston and the Rito Elder. Your attacks don't do much against an electric type enemy, so you dodge to your best ability however you can. You swing when you can, catching the monsters off guard when you can. It's actually refreshing to fight in the Great Hyrule Forest. The Koroks are adorable. Some of them are eons older than you, but they're still a thrill to fight alongside. You think you're having an incredible time right now.

It is confusing to get around, though.

The electric moblin falls to your allies as you turn around to check on the condition of your trident. It shouldn't break, and now that the front lines have fallen, you should be able to make your way further into the Korok forest like the Rito Elder had originally planned. It's impressive to actually get to see what a force he is when it comes to strategizing. Truly impressive feat. To think that he's matured so much in the few years you haven't seen him.

"Looks like he fell for it." The elder hums, turning to look at the rest of you. "Now our plan can really start moving. Everyone, get into position!"

You follow behind the elder, blinking when the Koroks open up a passageway through the trees.

The army fights through the second round of monsters, and you get a little better versed at fighting monsters that you didn't think you'd be fighting so soon again. Maybe you can finally settle down and age after the war. You don't expect to be completing your quest anytime soon. You'll probably have a couple of lives to live before you can consier anything else, Awful, awful life of yours that you have to suffer the consequences of. Whatever.

You stab through the boss bokoblin, landing on the ground with a gentle splash as you look at the drops.

"You're a keener strategist than you let on, Lord Raphica." Qia's the one to compliment him after killing the boss bokoblin, and you observe the items he's just dropped.

"Hey, all in a day's work. But you know, we'd never pull these plans off if I didn't have such capable allies out there putting them into action." He nods, starting forward.

"Lord Raphica." You hand Raphica the fangs from the Bokoblins, and he blinks at you. "This on the arrowhead."

He hesitates, taking it from you with a stare before he nods.

You think a flash of recognition passes in his eyes when he takes it from you, but everyone pushes onward. There is no time to consider the past in a fight that compromises the future. Everyone pushes forwards, even when the aerocudas come over to fight, you're quick to throw your trident and pull the aerocudas down with the chain you'd recently gotten from the Gorons. You yank them down to your level before you stab the teeth of the trident through their wings and deliver a final slash. When they fall, everyone moves forward to fight the Grimgera.

It's a really confusing place that you don't think you'd be able to navigate without the Koroks help.

Everyone rests for a moment at the camps set up, and you take the moment to take off the helmet to adjust your hair. You'd worked up a sweat from all the fighting, and you weren't very thrilled about it.

"Worst part of war is working up a sweat in battle." You pant, waving at your face.

"Yeah." One of the Hylian soldiers sigh.

"Caught your breaths everyone? Final push." Raphica nods at the gates, and you exhale.

"Let's get going."

Qia's quite intruiged by the fact that she'd never seen a Korok before today, and you squat down while travelling to give one of them a high five before you head through the passage. Raphica knows a little more about the Koroks since he'd picked up Calamo. Some of them have skin thick enough to tough out Hebra and Tabantha, but most of them stick to milder climates. You wonder how your swordsmith friend is doing. They're probably with the korok right now.

The grimgera is a pain in the ass to fight, and the water attacks you're used to using on a trident don't do much. Zelda's flame emitters work wonders to send the monster to the ground, where you can get a proper hit or two on it, but it doesn't do much. Your trident can't dig into its skin to launch you onto the monster either. You really miss your bow about now. So, you do the next best thing and just start throwing shit at the monster. Broken tree branches, loot from the monsters earlier, you name it, you hurl it.

At one point, one of the Rito warriors hands you a bow so you can shoot at the monster more efficiently.

They watch as a single arrow flies from the bow and knocks the grimgera to the ground, giving everyone the chance to fight properly. You keep the monster stunned as it's eventually defeated, and you return the bow to the Rito warrior with a smile and thank you on your lips. You watch Raphica talk to Zelda on the side as you cook some fish, sitting by the fire the Koroks had lit for everyone. One of the koroks ends up next to you on the log as you cook a fish over the fire.

"Do you only eat fish?"

"Sometimes we eat plants or rocks. It depends on the tribe and person." You start up a pot, looking through your items to see if you can make anything in particular. "What do you all eat?"

"The sun…"

You laugh, holding a hand over your mouth as the Korok huffs.

"We don't have mouths."

"Yes, I figured." You hum. "But you all have fun anyway, yeah? There isn't much that food can offer you if you already get the best nutrients."

"But we can smell!" Another Korok chimes in. "Sometimes food smells very good…"

You find the sugar in your bag, throwing flour and eggs and a berry into the pot, clapping your hands together as it comes out as a cake.

Raphica keeps his eyes trailed on you in the distance as he talks to Zelda. You can feel it, and you ignore it the best you can. He'd probably like to talk to you, but you're not ready for that conversation yet. Maybe one more battle where the two of you work well. You'd like him to break the ice this time. The two of you are older now, after all. He has responsibilities, and you really do think that it would be better for him to return to Rito Village and find a nice Rito girl instead of you. It'd appease the elders and probably do him much better.

You share a slice with some of the soldiers nearby, and before long, most of the army has gathered around for a slice of their own. You think you're running low on berries, but you push on. Surely you have some other kind of fruit you can replace things with.

Lady Qia and Raphica visit you last, and you blink at the two of them as there's only two slices left. You haven't had a bite yet, and you're out of berries, so obviously you hand the two slices to them both, waving Qia off when she offers her slice to you. It's out of the question. Besides, you typically didn't like tasting what you baked, only hearing feedback. You told Qia to keep hers, and Raphica is the one who does something about it.

He thanks you for the utensil, cutting his cake in half and taking the chance while your mouth was open to shove a bite into your mouth.

"Chew."

You do, blinking at him as he hums.

"Good?"

"That was highly unnecessary, Lord Raphica."

"Almost innapropriate too, Lord." You swallow, but you sigh. "But I thank you anyway. I hope you enjoy the cake."

"I always enjoy whatever you make."

Qia raises a brow at you, but Raphica guides her away to Agraston for another conversation before you can get questioned.

Stupid Rito Bird.

But the army marches south when news breaks that there are more monsters in the desert, and camp is set up in the distance while you keep watch with the other Zora on watch duty. Some of them play cards while one person keep an eye out at all time, and one of the awful soldiers decides to break the ice by staring directly into your soul and asking the bluntest question you'd gotten in a hot minute.

"How's the Rito Elder had your cooking before if you're not a Rito?"

"I used to be a bowyer." You hum. "I made bows for some of the Rito."

"What?!"

"Hey, you did NOT tell us about all of that."

"Do you make the Zora bows?"

"I do." You hum. "Though, we have much more talented bowyers."

"No way. If you were making Rito bows, that means you were the best of the best."

"Did you make the Great Eagle Bow?"

You think about it.

"I'm not sure about the origin of the bow."

You lied straight out of your teeth over that. Of course you did. The whole reason Raphica had that bow was because you had reinforced the bow he originally had into what it was and painted it for him. You remember it like yesterday, but it's also a distant past now, so you don't really care. You were stupid in your youth.

"Anything to share about the Rito Elder?"

"He's pretty…"

"Of course you'd say that."

"Expected nothing less."

You get away with it, and you wonder for a brief moment if you had really made the right choice back then.

A Gerudo woman seeks help from Hyrule to help their leader, and everyone is pushed to fight in the desert as monsters emerge and start ambushing them. It's a horrible experience, really. The sand gets in your toes and you'd never wished you had better shoes before now, but you can't really pick and choose during a war. If anything, you grit your teeth and continue fighting. Is it really worth it in the end? You wonder if you'll just be forgotten in history. What a depressing thought.

The gibdos opens their mouth to spit at you, and Raphica emerges from next to you.

"Dance with me?"

"With pleasure."

Raphica holds his hand out for you mid-battle, and you take it, letting him spin you before throwing you into the air, your trident handed to him to fight as you send arrows flying with his bow. It's so easy to use that you forget how nice it is. You worked hard to make it back then, and to get to feel the bow in hand is honestly a blessing. You land a headshot to the enemy below, sending it plummeting to the ground as you land back down and switch your weapons back.

You clasp the chain around your trident back to your wrist, and you rush forward.

An arrow from Raphica pierces the monster's head as you stab your trident into its chest, pulling back with a sick crunch as the monster disappears back into dust.

"We work well together," He bows as he lets go of your hand, and you bow back.

You go back to fgighting, ignoring the fact that Lord Raphica most definitely knows who you are, and now you're more paranoid than ever that you're going to single handedly cause the collapse of an alliance. Well, not that you would. If you remember right, they were fighting the battle because of a Korok and not because Rauru had asked for him — though Rauru has now, you suppose. You should figure out if he has any bitterness towards you at all later.

The final monster falls with a slash from a soldier, and everyone breathes.

"At last, the desert is safe." Rauru speaks, and you glance at all the monster items on the ground, going through them as people set up camp and regroup.

Qia finds you, making sure you're in one piece as you make sure she's unharmed, and once everyone has regrouped, Ardi joins the ranks as the Gerudo leader. You stay on the side with the Rito, letting them show you their bows as one of them mentions how well you'd done when they'd handed you their bow in battle. You laugh and wave it off, excusing it as luck before you're pulled to the side by some of the Zora soldiers.

"Isn't their chief so hot? The markings under his eyes really bring it to light."

You look with them, humming.

"I don't know. I think the Gerudo chief is much prettier."

"Well, nothing triumphs over Lady Qia."

"Well that goes without saying."

"Obviously."

"What triumphs over me?"

The group jumps in their skin as Lady Qia raises a brow at everyone.

"Hm?"

"Nothing triumphs over your beautyyy." You drawl, grinning as she laughs.

"Uh huh?"

"Of courseee." You hum. "You know I only go for pretty people."

"Well that goes without saying."

"Did the conversation go well?" You raise a brow. "You must need me for something. My apologies for straying."

"I hear from Cadlan that you used to make bows."

"Oh, well Lord Raphica had handed me his bow to use in battle while aiding the Gerudo." You turn around, noticing the bows. "You know I used to be a bowyer for the Rito. Most of the ones here are bows I used to fix up."

"And the one stained blue?"

"The great eagle bow." You turn to explain to Qia. "Isn't it pretty? It's—"

"Gorgeous, strengthened by diamond, with the carvings of a divine beast. Not to mention the quiver of the godlings the arrows rest in that I was gifted."

The voice makes you stop in your tracks, Qia raising a brow at you as she notices. You cycle through the 5 stages of grief in the single second you have before you have to turn around and face the Rito Elder because it'd be rude for a mere aide to ignore another chief. What if you blow yourself up right now. You're going to walk into the monster camp and get shocked to death. Gerudo is known for that anyway. God. Hylia? Can she hear you? You want to be struck by lightning just about now oh fuck.

"Are you alright—"

"My favorite bowyer who refuses to acknowledge I exist while we are in active war."

You turn around to face the voice.

"Lord Raphica." You smile at him, mildly strained. A pretty face, charming personality, and a person that you did NOT want to see on a lovely day during a WAR despite having talked to him a little here and there in the temple. You take ten psychic damage every time he calls out your name in that voice of his. Oh, you are not immune to anything attractive. You're Qia's loyal aide now. NOT a bowyer free to do whatever. You failed your bowyer ceremony because of this Rito. You'd be lying through your teeth if you said you were over it. Well, it's equal parts your fault for oversleeping. You'd crafted a divine bow, but failed to finish off the final target of the hunt, losing track of it. You'd decided to sidetrack since losing the target usually meant you'd never find it again.

He reminds you of a past that is no longer yours and a decision you chose to make forever ago. You're not the one who crafted his bow again. That was from a past that no longer yours to use or have. It's from a past that isn't yours anymore. You're someone else. You've sidetracked and chosen a different path.

Sidetracked to help the Zora fight off the construct who killed Lady Qia's father.

"Dove."

Qia pauses at the name, and you wince.

"I believe you owe me a conversation." He smiles, charming as always, and you blink at him.

You'd danced with him in battle again. It'd been a while since you needed to fight alongside him, but it's something that you're glad happened anyway. You missed him. You hate that you did, but you were stupid and a coward to run off and get mad because of something that you did. You were looking for someone to blame, and your sidequest of visiting Raphica in case he'd never see you again became your scapegoat. Stupid of you, but you can't be regretting that now.

"Lord Raphica, I'm certain it can wait for after the war." You reason.

"You're right. I should just take you back with me when the war ends." He smiles.

Qia steps in front of you, holding a hand out as she meets eyes with the Rito. "Lord Raphica. They work for me now."

"Apologies, Queen Qia." Raphica bows. "We may discuss it at a later date. Unfortunately, They owe me a little something."

"I owe you something?! I lost—" You cut yourself off, breathing as you exhale. "Very well. At a later date, then."

Raphica smiles at you, and Qia looks at the two of you.

You are so screwed.

You say your goodbyes, getting to know some of the other leaders of their groups, and when you finally have the time to settle down in your tent, Qia comes to visit you. You know what she's here to ask. She cares, but you don't know how much you want to tell her. What are you supposed to say? You're into the bird because he was so charismatic that you wanted to teach him how to make a bow the night before you rose to divinity, and one thing leads to the next and next thing you know you wake up from the best sleep of your life but lose your target? That's embarrassing. Well, everything is. You think it's equally embarrassing that everything has happened over the years. You're not even that old. You're younger than Qia and around Raphica's age. Hylia forbid you run ten thousand laps making bows before you're even too old of an adult.

"So… the Rito Elder?"

Your expression drops, and Qia raises a brow.

"Qia, you know how I used to be a bowyer?"

"Yes."

"In order to ascend to godhood, one has to complete a trial sent from the gods."

"Yes."

"I may or may not have ended up in Lord Raphica's bed the night before I finished tracking down the target for my trial." You pause. "And that may or may not have resulted in me losing track of the target— leading to my failure."

Qia gives you a look that you remember very well from when you had informed your master of the same thing. You're being choked half to death by her in her mind. You're not proud of it, but you also owe Raphica an apology for running off in the morning and never returning. You could have sent word or one of your messenger birds, but you had been too wrapped up in your head over losing and trying to track down your target again, so it passed your mind. Maybe not the best moment of your life. So you make a mistake, big deal. You should really apologize to Raphica. Ugh. The war, though.

"He's pretty."

It's all you can manage.

Qia knows. It's why she only sighs in annoyance instead of anything else. You've always been weak for a pretty face.

"We can figure it out after the war."

"Yes." You mumble. "My apologies, Queen Qia."

She sighs. "Lord Raphica isn't so childish as to let this get in the way of war."

"I'm aware." You mumble, hiding your face in your hands.

She seems to hesitate before she asks, and you brace for the question.

"Was he at least good?"

Your eyes widen, not expecting that question of all things.

"Like… in bed?"

"No." Qia turns red immediately. "No, not in bed. I meant. Ugh I meant if he was worth it."

"His feathers were soft." You mumble. "I have something egregious to say but I don't want to cause inter-nation issues."

"I'd rest on a pillow made of Rito feathers if I needed a pillow too."

You hold back a scream, mouth wide open as you laugh.

"It's an agreeable opinion."

"Yes." You mumble. "I miss sleeping on his chest."

"I did not ask for that."

"Soft."

"I hope we don't end up with a…"

"Queen Qia, do you really think none of the armies are fraternizing right now?"

"I can pretend I am not aware."

"I don't know how many more nights I'm going to be able to take camped next to some of the horniest soldiers of my life."

Qia rests her head in her hands, sighing.

"Would you like to rest with me tonight?"

"Maybe." You pause, looking out the tent to glance at the Rito. "I may rest in my own tent for the night. I have a bad feeling that won't leave."

"Well, I shall await the bad news."

You laugh, waving goodnight to her.

Sure enough, the construct that killed Lady Qia's father shows up, and you hold a hand to stop her from leaving. Rauru orders the group to retreat, and the newly appointed Knight Construct and Calamo stay behind to hold the forbidden construct back. You make haste and help people pack bedrolls and make a run for it. No regular human can fight against that thing. You watch the three of them, your swordsmith friend joining with a hand you hadn't seen glow in a long time. You send them a nod, they send one back, and you retreat with the rest of the group. Mostly everyone retreats with a run, and you watch, staring at the construct and korok with your friend.

You mumble a prayer to yourself to protect the three, and Raphica rests a wing on your shoulder, nodding as you rush off with the group.

The camp started as everyone settles down. It's starting to feel different now, you think. You admit it, even. You should really go to war with a clean slate and nothing else in the way or ruining your life. You probably owe Raphica an apology for being young and stupid. You're eons younger than the other two that were in your little group before everyone had their own moving along.

You think you should apologize.

The walk to Raphica's tent isn't as long as you thought it would be. The Rito were placed relatively close with the Zora since they needed to practice fighting together in the morning for practice. The Rito and Zora were relatively far away from each other, so they weren't as familiar with each other's fighting styles. Well, Rauru's orders. You're here to make sure that you didn't just royally screw up a war. You doubt Raphica is as petty as that, but you do owe him an apology for running off in the morning in a panic and never seeing him away. Asshole move on your end.

"Lord Raphica." You stand at the front of his tent, and he opens the flap, letting another Rito warrior out as he raises a brow at you.

"And what did the birds drag in this time?"

You shake your head, letting the tent close behind you. "I want to apologize. I… know it won't do much to undo any of the hurt, but I picked such an awful day to find you that night. I should have found you the next after I had finished tracking the target, but I got excited and I was so close to you and… it's no one's but my fault. I wanted to apologize for running off and never sending word. I was bitter that I let my feelings for you take precedent over what my goal was. I apologize for taking it out on you instead of processing it myself. I understand if you don't wish to forgive me, but please don't let it—"

"Dove." He presses a wing to your arm, holding your gaze as he smiles.

You look at him, scared.

"I'm not upset." He hums. "I wouldn't let something like that get in the way of our collaboration between tribes. No need to worry your pretty head over it. Besides, I owe Rauru a favor for the help from Hyrule a while back."

You frown.

You know he's not someone who would take it out on anyone, and you're apologizing right now because you're a little childish. Still the same young one that met him the first time, maybe. You've gotten more childish while he's gotten more mature. You've abandoned your duties as someone who was fighting for divinity, and he's taken up the title of Rito Elder. You think it's a funny change of events. How wonderful, really. But you know he cares. He's not nearly as cold as he seems to come off as to everyone else. You don't know where he got the title of aloof according to the other Zora. But you're childish now, so you settle with an excuse.

"Qia's worried."

"Yes, and I was too. We both want what's best for you. This is war, after all." He hums. "I'm glad you came to clear it up with me."

"I hope I'm not a distraction." You smile, laughing when he raises a brow at you.

"Never, gorgeous." He nudges his beak against your cheek, and you hum. "You can come with me after the war."

"And fight Lady Qia for me?"

"I'm sure something can be achieved through a proper diplomatic conversation."

You raise a brow at him.

"Hopefully."

"If you say so." You laugh, and Raphica hums. Just hums. Quietly, staring at you with a heart full. Neither of you really know what's coming soon. It's such a long road ahead with such a distant past that neither of you are really brave enough to do anything right now. Well, you aren't brave enough. You're sure Raphica has matured plenty during his time of having to take up the title of Rito Elder. You think Vence was worried for this exact reason anyway.

"Stay the night?" He looks at you, and you blink at him.

"I don't know if that's very smart. I told Queen Qia that I wouldn't do anything…"

"Sleeping together isn't a crime, you know?"

"Which sleeping together…"

Raphica raises a brow.

"Whichever one you want."

You want to sleep, which is really how you end up in Raphica's arms in his bed again. You lay in the hammock set up in his room, watching as he tugs at his robes an accessories, setting them down on a nearby box. You blink lazily at him, humming when he raises a brow at you. Not the time, though. You promised you wouldn't do anything stupid. You're not planning on doing anything stupid right now in the middle of a war. That could come later when the sdreneline from fighting was hard to kill off with a bath.

"Don't birds sleep sitting?"

"Rito sleep on their backs. We're a little more comfortable tucked in together."

"Am I tucked in with you right now?"

"Maybe."

"You're so warm…"You mumble, closing your eyes, head on Raphica's chest.

"You know that well, don't you?"

"Maybe." You mumble, head digging into his feathers as he wraps a wing around you.

There's a comfortable beat of silence that passes between the two of you. Scary, really. He might die tomorrow. The war will take and take and eat and eat until it devours everyone or the source whole. It's an unfortunate reality, really. You wonder if you could win this at all. You pray quietly that your friend's mentor will step in. You don't know what the future is, but knowing their master, they probably already had multiple plans put together. Or, at the very least, they had an idea of why they're here.

"Come back to me."

"Not unharmed?"

"I doubt you'll be unharmed, but just come back to me alive." You whisper.

He hums.

"I'll come back alive."

"Good, because I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep this comfortably without your feathers for a long time."

Raphica laughs, wing reaching behind him to undo his braid, and you watch, humming.

"You and your hair."

"Have to look pretty for you."

"Not the other Rito women?"

"Just you."

"Sap."

"You like it."

You roll your eyes, closing them as you lie on his chest.

"If that helps you sleep at night."

"Oh, it sure does alright."

Raphica, despite the childishness he has when you're around, is an exceedingly talented leader. He guides the Rito army through battles that force the enemy back again and again. The monster army was huge and impossibly hard to fight through, but it ended. It's easy to know just how respectable he is when he receives a secret stone, showing you in his tent at night, and you rest his foot on your lap, observing the secret stone. The monster army had been neutralized, and everyone got a brief night of rest for once. Brief. Everyone was exhausted from the battle, and you find yourself back in his tent, looking at the secret stone.

"It's what makes Ganondorf powerful."

"I see." You hum. "And its power?"

"Amplifies according to the power of the host."

"Mm." You let go, leaning back on your palms as you rest your eyes.

"Shall we rest for the night?"

"Mmm." You let him drag you into his wings, closing your eyes as you yawn. "Sleep well, Raphica."

"You too, dove."

It becomes an open secret. It's hard to ignore it, and the Zora are the first to really notice, your clothes leaving little space for you to cover the bites on your collarbone and everywhere else. As long as no one asks, you don't say anything. They know you're obviously sleeping with someone in the army, but no one can really figure out who it is. It doesn't take a genius, though. Your swordsmith friend is the first to ask during a break from training.

"Sooooo you and Raphica?"

You sink into the ground at camp, skin on fire at the embarrassment as they laugh.

"I promise I'm not making fun of you." They raise a brow.

"I'm deflecting. I heard you and that construct are close."

They avoid your eyes after that, and you laugh half to hell over it.

The swordsmith is sweet, but you don't see them as much since you're more well versed in using ranged weapons. You end up training some of the recruits, and Zelda spends the bulk of her time with you to fight with her bow. You show her faster ways to draw it back, and you teach her easier ways to move it around and fight. It's nice, actually. She learns quickly, and you seem to figure out quick enough that she got somewhat used to the fighting when she was with her knight. You learn a lot about her knight while hanging out with her. She doesn't ever stop talking about him.

"You miss him, huh?"

"W-well…" She laughs, flushing pink. "Yes."

You hum. "That's really cute."

"Did you ever miss Lord Raphica when you were gone?"

The question catches you off guard, and you pause to consider it for a moment. You did. It was a quiet voice in the back of your head that whispered lies and accused you of hurting the only person that would ever love you enough to accept you into their doors past sunset, and it chewed at your insides until there was nothing left. You don't betray yourself this time, though, and you laugh. The wind carries your laugh with a lightness that you remember from youth.

"Of course I did."

It'd be stupid to let childishness cling onto you during war and lie through your teeth about how you didn't miss him. That was a lie, and you knew it. You missed Raphica to the depths the first three weeks you left him, but you lied and convinced yourself that it was for your own good that you left him. He told you he was becoming the Rito Chief. You thought you wouldn't be someone who should stand by his side. Rito are short-lived. They don't live past fourty in most cases, and if it meant that you'd become a god and outlive him for literal eons, then you didn't want to hurt yourself in that case. Selfish, you are, but that's how all the gods were. You know they'll stop crowning divinity as a gift when you're loyal enough to the gods one day. It's probably coming soon. You heard the three goddesses were planning on stepping down soon.

You don't want to leave any regrets. Your life is so much shorter as a mortal, and you don't want to live it with a stick up your ass.

"You missed me?"

You turn to look at Raphica, and he raises a brow.

"Yes, Lord Raphica." You whisper. "I missed you a lot."

His gaze softens, and he shakes his head.

"That makes two of us."

Zelda looks at the two of you, understanding blooming on her face as she covers her mouth.

"Is that why Pinnec was telling me about how Lord Raphica sleeps better these nights?"

You look at the Rito, and he looks to the side.

"I'm innocent until evidence is provided." He holds both his wings up, and Zelda laughs.

"The Rito talk of you two."

"Good things, I hope." You hum.

"Well, more of Lord Raphica and how he seems more energetic these days."

"What are you back from?" You glance up at the Rito, and he hums.

"Just cleared out a nearby monster camp with the Knight Construct."

"Find anything good?"

"Please excuse us, Lady Zelda." Raphica nods, leading you along as you wave goodbye to the princess.

"What did you find?"

"I wanted to present you with something." He hums. "The Rito back home all sport a head or hair accessory, and I wanted to give you one."

"That's awfully quick moving of you, Lord Raphica." You laugh, letting him present the beads to you.

"They go into your hair."

"Would you do it for me?"

"Of course."

"Was it from clearing the monster camp?"

"There were rubies, and they keep you warm in the cold, so I figured it would be best to give you one since it'll be cold in Hebra when you move." He attaches it to your hair, and you do feel warmer.

"Who said I was moving?"

"Well, you just accepted a courtship gift, so you."

You laugh.

"And how should I pay you back?"

"Well, I have a few ideas." He raises a brow at you, and you smack his wing, gasping.

"Lord Raphica how crude!"

"Don't be prudish, dove."

You raise a brow at him, looking to the side as you sigh.

"Well, since I have accepted your betrothal gift."

"There's more coming." He mumbles, beak brushing up your neck as his voice lowers. "This is only one."

"Does the pretty Rito Elder come with getting betrothal to a Rito?"

"Only for the prettiest one."

"Well isn't your tongue stained with sugar." You hum, brushing the feathers on his face back as you press your lips to his beak. "Be nice."

"You know I always am."

It's morning and you've overslept. Usually you'd be up the same time as Raphica, but you'd been too tired from the night before, marks on your skin fresh as you rub at your neck with the ointment. Raphica had let Qia know that you weren't feeling well, and he wasn't wrong. You're sore all over, not that it's an excuse, but it lets you rest in the tent for a while. His hammock has gotten more and more comfortable to sleep in over the days as you've gotten used to how the Rito sleep. You could set up a bedroll on the ground, but you're not particularly picky at the moment.

Besides, you're sore in the legs and neck, and you're almost certain you look like you just got mauled when you dress yourself in the morning.

You open the flap to the tent when someone calls without thinking.

Vence raises a brow in amusement when you blink at him owlishly, trapped at the exit of Raphica's tent as he hums.

"So you're who Raphica has been hiding."

You offer a half smile, fiddling with your fingers as Vence steps into the tent.

Pinnec is close behind, staring you down as you tilt your head.

"May I help you both?"

"No, just wanted to see who Raphica's been hiding in his tent these nights. The two of you are always out of his tent by morning dew that we never know who you are." He observes you, and you blink at Pinnec, recognition and panic flashing in your eyes.

He's the Rito who saw you get out of Raphica's hut back in Rito Village. Oh you are so fucked.

"You're the one who snuck out of Lord Raphica's hut the night before his chiefdom inauguration."

You purse your lips.

"I believe so?"

He looks at you, scrutinizing you, might you say, and you'd never wished Raphica were here more than ever. He probably ran off to clear out another monster camp with the Knight Construct again. Neither of them can really sit still for long periods of time. They're always itching to blow off some steam, well, for Raphica at least. You'd think the Rito would be tired after drilling you half to death last night, but alas. Whatever.

"Oh, there you are." Qia catches sight of you behind the tent flap. "Come on, some of the recruits need training. I can't fight everyone alone. Come on."

"Please excuse me." You step past the two birds, and you have a feeling you're going to need to steer clear from Raphica's tent for a while.

You adjust your robes as you walk, and Qia raises a brow at the attire.

"Rito robes?"

You notice.

"Lord Raphica probably grabbed my robes in the morning. Our fabrics are the same color."

"Uh huh." She looks forwards, leading you. "I don't want to be an aunt too soon."

"Lady Qia last time I checked interspecies mating is impossible."

"Last I checked, Queen Sonia and King Rauru have children."

You pause.

"Well, get ready to be punching me in the stomach sometime soon."

Training the new recruits goes well for the most part. The Zora army was relatively used to wielding tridents, so you just fight some of the new recruits. Some days you're much more inclined to using a bow and you miss it. Today is not a day you are afforded that luxury. King Rauru was planning on waging the offensive now. The war is steadily progressing. Time is a luxury you're fairly certain you won't be afforded for the next handful of weeks. You don't know if you'll be moved somewhere else to stand guard or fight alongside the Hylian army.

Either or, washing up and getting back to your own tent comes first.

You're in the middle of drying your hair when Raphica slips through the openings of your tent, and you blink at him as he blinks at you, averting his eyes when he notices you have only a towel on.

"Sorry."

"Pray tell what the Rito Elder is doing in my tent?"

"Vence has been hunting me down for the last hour to ask about you and why Pinnec knows you but not him. How do you even know Pinnec?"

"He watched me sneak out of your hut the morning I left you." You reach to tug the towel and look for your clothes, and Raphica hears the familiar sound of Rito wings outside. "Probably where his resentment really peaked, but I didn't say anything to him since I was too busy running."

"Hide me."

"Under the bed." You pull your nightwear on over your head, back facing Raphica as he stares at you for a moment too long.

"Anyone inside?"

"I'm settling into my nightwear, a moment, please." You call, and you help cover Raphica. He's going to need to wash up later from the dust on the ground, but as long as he doesn't try sleeping in your bed. You missed your bed. Raphica is comfortable, yes, but your bedroll is too.

You peek the entrance to your tent open, and Vence looks at you.

"Sorry for the late disturbance. Do you know where Raphica is by chance?"

You pause to think.

"Is he not in his tent?"

"No."

You pause. "I'm afraid not, then."

"Is he with you?"

"No." You shake your head. "Oh, Vence. I did want to apologize. Lord Raphica let me know earlier that you were upset he never introduced me to you even though Pinnec knew me. The only reason he did was because—"

"You're the one who snuck out of Raphica's hut the morning of his inauguration, yes." He nods. "Pinnec told me. No worries about it. I'm more upset he didn't tell any of us that you were here than anything else. I do need to find him, though. I have questions."

You raise a brow at the Rito, and he raises one back.

"Unless you'd like to answer them?"

"I'll leave you to your own talks." You laugh. "I hope you find him soon."

He nods.

"Rest well, Gaard."

"Best of luck, Vence."

Once you no longer hear his footsteps, you turn around to look at Raphica under the bed.

"I hope you know I'm not letting you into my bed while dirty." You raise a brow at him, and he fixes his hair with a huff, sitting down.

"Fix my hair?"

"You're not going to wash up?"

"I will, but my hair is a mess." He raises a brow at you, and you walk over to fix his hair. "Also, I wish you'd watch me fight more often."

"And watch you perform a courtship dance mid battle? I think not."

"Ah, so you do know."

"Yes, Raphica. When you spin me in battle and end our sync strike with a dip, I am very aware that you are trying to perform a courtship dance with me. Unfortunately for you, I like the gifts you give me to court me better since we have different cultures."

"I thought typically the one marrying out came with dowries?"

You finish with his hair, smoothing down his feathers with practiced gentleness as you turn around to find a way to fix up your own hair.

"Typically brides. Shouldn't you know this? Sometimes, though. The one who wants or arranged the marriage brings a dowry or reverse dowry."

You lift your hair up, looking for something to get it out of the way.

"A dowry?" He dusts himself off with his wings, stepping behind you to hold your hair up as you sort through your items. "And if I want to marry you?"

"Then a betrothal gift would be good." You find a brush, brushing your hair back so it stays out of your face. "What, did you expect to just get me without the need to try anything?"

"And what would you want as a gift?"

"Oh, Lord Raphica. That is for you to figure out."

"Well, you already have my ruby in your hair," he presses his beak to the back of your neck, staring at the accessory that dangles on the side. "And by technicality when you accept an accessory from a Rito, that means you are betrothed to them, but I can always get you something better."

"How about something I need?" You turn to face him, hands tangling behind his head to undo his braid. "Are you resting with me tonight?"

"Yes. We charge out to the Seres Scablands tomorrow." He whispers. "I'd like to rest with you."

"Just resting tonight, please." You collapse into your bedroll, letting Raphica fall on top of you with a thud.

"Heavy."

"Just tonight."

You fall asleep to a warmth and weight on your chest.

In truth, you'd like a new bow. You'd been using the ones that the Zonai provided because the Rito warriors were better equipped with their spears and swords, so you had to make do with whatever you could. You'd been using a regular wooden bow you'd stole from a nearby bokoblin camp for weeks now. It's ragged and awful to the touch, but your mastery in archery isn't determined by what bow you use. It's determined by resilience — okay, okay, you're getting ahead of yourself. Either way, a better bow would be nice.

You're slightly rusty with a ranged weapon anyway. Someone should invent a hand canon or something. That sounds incredibly convenient.

So, when the bow snaps on you eventually, you forgo the bow entirely to fight with a trident. It's not hard to use, and the ease that comes with spinning it in your hand is a blessing. You train the new recruits and keep the flashy work to a minmum. It wouldn't be good if they would get distracted trying to look cool during battle. They're here to fight for something, not show off. Some of them may not make it back home. It's something you remind them over and over again.

Some nights you lay awake in Raphica's arms and just talk.

"Do you not resent me for leaving?"

"I would have left too. Besides, you left the two items that meant the world to you with me, so I knew you never hated me."

You laugh, thumb reaching to brush the feathers under his eye gently.

"Stupid, pretty elder."

"Your stupid, pretty elder."

The war pushes on, and sometimes the sages are sent out, and other times you're sent out with the sages. You fight with the trident Qia has you carry around, piercing and stabbing through monsters, breaking hide under the teeth of the weapon, blood and mess on the ground as you exhale to find a way around things. You work well with the different armies. Zelda goes as far as calling you the most flexible fighter on the field. You doubt it, but you thank her for the high praise anyway.

Eventually, the army has to split.

Rauru orders everyone to swap around to fight, and you're sent with the Zora to a new part to take back some of the camps. Raphica is upset to let you go, but he does eventually, though not without a painfully obvious beak-shaped bite on your neck and obvious enough stares to anyone in the army who takes a look at you even for a second too long. At one point Cadlan asks you if something's going on, to which you can really only respond with a "it's complicated" and move on.

It is complicated. You're something. He'd probably argue that he's courting you despite the obvious Rito accessory in your hair, so that's what you accept.

The Rito aren't promiscuous despite it all, so the fact that you've been sharing a bed with Raphica and getting your insides drilled raw on some nights tells you more than you need to know. He doesn't say it out loud. The words feel like a promise that's just waiting to be broken right now, so you suffer the silence of it all, but it's more than enough. The bite marks on your skin and the shared tent that becomes a secret everyone knows is more than enough proof. The Rito have started warming up towards you. Most of them have more questions on how it works than anything else, but you don't really know how to answer half of them. It's a fireplace story Raphica should tell, not you.

Eventually everyone pushes into the depths once the Knight Construct succeeds in breaching past the monsters' defenses, and you're back. The army sent you down after establishing enough camps to keep Hyrule safe on the surface. You're a better fighter than most, and it would probably do well to have the more talented ones move with the sages. Most of the other generals could fight and defend outposts on the surface. You, on the other hand, needed to be moved down. Maybe Qia wanted you to be moved down.

You arrive as reinforcements, though, and you clear out whatever monsters are still left in the depths that the crew didn't get to fight. At one point when you reach the final room, you blink at the gloom hands.

"Stay in the air." Raphica's voice rings behind you, and he throws you up as he trades his bow for your trident, and the two of you send an ambush of arrows down at the hands, stunning them as everyone else successfully defeats the hands.

You hand on the ground right as the Phantom Ganon emerges, and you slam your trident into him to create a distraction as everyone else fights. It's long and it's rough, but ultimately he's sent back to Ganondorf with a couple of particularly harsh hits from the Knight Construct. It's honestly impressive how smoothly the fight goes, but it seems everyone's aware that victory in the depths doesn't translate to victory on the surface. If anything, everyone gathers together for one final celebration before the end back at the temple to raise morale. The final push, everyone admits. It's the future of Hyrule at risk, and not everyone is really ready for that conversation or moment in time.

You have other things to be mulling over, though. The Rito have started asking you about the accessory on your head from the Rito tribe.

"Dove." Raphica hums, holding a wing out for you as you take it, raising a brow as Calamo clears his throat and pulls out maracas.

"Oh, are we dancing?" You take his wing, letting him spin you around as the rest of the camp dances together too.

"Yes." He hums.

"The things you do to court me." You hold onto the upper part of his wings, light on your feet as you let him guide you through the music. "I thought you were bad at dancing outside of battle?"

"Maybe, but I figured I should try to learn this."

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that Vence was scolding you for rolling around like a Goron the other day?" You spin as he leads you for one, letting him dip you as he hums.

"Maybe." He presses his forehead against yours, and he leads you off the dance floor with a hum.

"And does dancing with you mean anything else that I might not know?"

"I'd like to make you my spouse if we come back from this war alive."

"And what do you suppose I do about my position as aide of the Queen of the Zora?"

"Surely someone can step up instead of you." He wraps his arms around you, resting his beak on your forehead as he stares at the rest of the army dancing. "I mean it, you know?"

"That you want me to return to rebuild Rito Village with you?"

"Yes." He whispers. "It'd be my greatest wish to take you back to Rito Village with me as my spouse."

You rest a hand over his wing, staring at the army that dances before you.

"Rather selfish of the Rito Elder, no?"

"Yes, but I can be selfish from time to time. Just this once."

"Well, I should indulge you a little as your betrothed, yeah?" You scratch at his hair, and he hums quietly.

"Yes. Always."

"Maybe not always."

"I worry," he mumbles, quieter now, "that I will not survive Ganondorf."

"You will." You whisper. "You'll return and be the Elder that everyone understands to have. You care for them too much."

"I care for you."

"Hence why I figured it would be best for you to return to a female Rito at home." You hum, glancing at the birds mingled amongst the others. "It would please the elders."

"I am the elder."

"The older ones."

"That I will not compromise on. I cannot guarantee that I will agreeable if I do not have someone I genuinely adore by my side." His hold around you is firmer now. "It will be you or my bloodline will die."

"How childish." You laugh, leaning your head back to look at Raphica. "No one else?"

"It couldn't have been anyone else since the day I laid eyes on you."

"Sappppp…"

"Yours."

"Mine." You hum, looking forward again as he squeezes you.

The festivities die down before the end of the night, and most of the army settles down around a bonfire while the rest of them set off to rest. You head off to rest in your tent for the night, yawning on your way over as Raphica stays by the fire. Some of the soldiers are curious to know how the two of you met and what's going on, and he's never been the type to raise some morale amongst the soldiers, so he stays back. You're not in charge of that, so you leave him with a hum and collapse into his hammock in his tent for the night. A night of rest, really. You're too tired to deal with anything.

You wake at night to a particularly strong light from the quiver you left Raphica, brow raised as Raphica moves to hold a wing over his eyes.

You get out of the hammock, having to peel yourself from Raphica's grip, and he mumbles something incoherent against your back.

It's your quiver you'd left Raphica when you realized you lost your target. Your target is nearby. A sheaf of arrows to kill the thing have reappeared in the quiver, but you're not entirely sure if you want to become a god, For the time being, you throw your robes over it, and snuggle back into the hammock with Raphica. You won't regret this. You're not in a rush anymore. The time will come when it does, and when it does, you'll be more accepting of both who you are and why you did all of this. For now, one day at a time.

You wake in the morning at the time you should, and you make sure you're not in the wrong robes before Raphica sets off to the Great Hyrule Forest again. You're with the later bunch with the Hylian army, and everyone else pushes forward. It's a horrible fight. You pick up some of the fallen Rito and drag them back to the camps, trident in hand as you really wish you had a bow about now. You'd kill to be able to shoot from a distance and cover your friends' approach into the inside of the camp.

"Gaard, was it?" You hold a hand over the Rito's wound, and they hand you a bow. "Lord Raphica always said you were more handy with a bow."

You smooth salve over his arm and one of the other medics rush over to heal, and you take two steps back.

"This is yours." Raphica hands you the quiver that was glowing the night before, and he motions at the arrows he forms out of the secret stone's power. "Push forward, dove. We missed you on the battlefield."

You nod, trident retired to your back as you fire the arrows, silver moblins falling as everyone pushes forward.

"I think they're going to try and ambush us." You climb up one of the trees, malice burning your hands as you jump to enter bullet time, catching wind of the new silver moblins that have just shown up. You fire an arrow as Calamo bats a bomb from below, and the explosion stuns the moblins for long enough that Zelda and the others can push fowards. When camp is set up, you drag the rest of the Rito who need to rest back and the medics attend to them. You're rusty with a bow and it's pissing you off but you're mid battle so all you can really do is swing your trident when you get tired of using the bow. You're better with the bow, though, but it troubles you if anything.

"Breathe." Raphica holds your arms from behind you, and you exhale as you fire the arrow to pierce through the army. "There you go."

"Stop seducing me mid battle."

Raphica laughs, throwing you in the air as you trade bows, and you send a barrage of arrows down at the gibdos that have spawned. Everyone's pushing for the final stretch now. Once the queen falls, everyone should get a moment to breathe. It really sucks what they've done to the forest, though. It makes you upset, but you're not a Korok so surely they're even more upset than you are. You can't even begin to imagine what Calamo is feeling right now.

You fire an arrow at the grimgibdo, but you fail to stun it. It's only when Zelda's light burns off its wings that it lands to the ground and everyone else can get to it. The arrows do little to pierce past the thick fur around its body, and you consider attaching a firefruit when you fire your arrows. You should focus on fletching once the war ends. Fire arrows would be a great addition to everyone's sheaf instead of having to attach items to the arrows.

The grimgibdo falls with a final slash from the Knight Construct, and everyone gathers around to observe the loss of the forest. One last retreat back to the Temple, and a decision to figure out how to push fowards. The castle is still swarmed with monsters left and right, and Qia brings you into the war room for the sole purpose of input. Your swordsmith friend had leaked to Rauru that you were a godling too, so they could use all the help they could get.

Godling. What a funny word to describe a regular being who was chosen to inherit the divine nature of the divine weaponsmiths.

"My quiver, a gift from my master much like the swordsmith's hand, glows when it approaches the target to kill. It is how the god of archery is annointed." You hum. "My quiver has been glowing because my target is nearby. I suspect Ganondorf had stolen the target and now controls it. The arrows I pull from my quiver will be able to seal a monster in it. I will warn that I have little power right now because I have not reached godhood, hence why I do not like the title of godling."

"We only need the accuracy of your arrows."

"Well, that I can do." You laugh.

"We should also start from Rito Village." Raphica nods.

"Yes." You nod. "It would be best to move in at the same pacing as our peers on the ground."

"You want us to run like cowards?!" Qia opposes.

"That's not what I'm saying." Raphica shakes his head. "We just need a plan in case things go wrong at the castle, okay?"

You rest a hand on Qia's shoulder.

"We must move from somewhere that Ganondorf does not expect." You nod.

"Lady Qia, you must not think of it as surrender. At times you must retreat, for greater victory. Isn't that correct, your majesty?" Agraston speaks, and Qia's shoulders sink a little.

Everyone else runs through the plan, and the general idea is to have the Stormwind Ark in the sky cover the movements of those on the ground pushing forwards. That way, both the sky and the ground can move. The Knight Construct would cover the movement in the sky and make sure that the Stormwind Ark can keep moving forward since it is so old, and the ground would be covered by the ark. It's a lot of faith in the construct, but you have just as much faith as everyone else. If Ganondorf does not die, then Rauru sacrifices himself with an opening.

"Good. We shall depart in the morning tomorrow. Everyone rest well for the night." Rauru nods, and you nod at Qia as she starts off.

"Dove, a moment?"

You turn around, facing Raphica as everyone else head back to their tent.

"I have something for you." Raphica motions you over, and he hands you a bow.

You blink.

"I can't take your bow, Lord Raphica." You laugh. "What will you fight with?"

"No, it's the one you had carried the night you dropped by." He shows you the carvings. "A little tweak here and there, and a carving of the symbol of the Rito Elder, but still the same bow."

"You fixed up my bow?"

"You showed me. The night before you were supposed to hunt. You stopped by, and you showed me how to make the bow you were planning to use in case I needed a bow and you became immortal and never saw me again."

You blink slowly.

Right. You forgot you did that.

"Did it mean nothing to you?"

"No." You laugh, taking the bow from him. "I just didn't think you'd remember."

"I always will."

"Sap."

Raphica makes a sound in offense, holding his wing over his heart as you laugh.

"It's a multishot bow." He shows you, and you blink. "But I know you prefer a single shot bow, which is why it can use a single arrow as well. You don't need to use it. Just."

He shows you the mechanism.

"There's a button on the drop away rest you made that changes it from multishot to single shot. It's… from the goddess. Instead of enchanting the whole bow, she had cast a spell on a part of the bow."

You blink again, staring up at him, wide-eyed.

"You asked Hylia for what?" You whisper.

"You made my bow multishot when you first crafted it for me, and I wanted you to have a bow that you could use, so I made it a regular one." He looks to the side, mumbling. "Something we share."

"Is that why Vence was looking for you the other day?"

"Maybe."

"Is this why we were missing three diamonds after that Lynel fight?"

"Maybe." He sighs. "Do you accept it or not?"

"Is it part of a courting ritual too?"

"You're sure chatty today, huh?"

"I'm not taking it unless it is."

"It is a formal sign of betrothal." He mumbles. "The arrows are made from my molted feathers."

That causes you to freeze as he hands you the bow and quiver.

"Your… feathers?"

"No taking it back, by the way. This is your final betrothal gift."

You tilt your head.

"We're engaged now?"

"It's a proposal, and since you're taking it, you're agreeing."

You look at the bow, and then at Raphica, raising a brow at him as you watch him flush pink.

Then, in barely a whisper— "Please."

You laugh, taking the bow from him. "I'll use your arrows with care."

He presses his forehead to yours, and you hum.

"I'm taking you after the war."

"Queen Qia will kill you."

"I'd like to see her send water power high enough to hit me from the sky."

"Please shut up." You close your eyes, laughing in exasperation. "She's going to kill you."

"She can't separate a Rito from its spouse." He pauses. "We Rito mate for life."

"Yeah, yeah." You look at the bow in your hand. "I'm sure Qia will be excited that I won't have to break any more tridents."

He laughs, wing on your back as he leads you out of the room.

"Let's rest for tomorrow."

"Of course."

The Rito head out early in the morning with Mineru to move the Stormwind Ark above the temple, and everyone boards the ship. It's an okay start at first, and most of the army has to get used to being in the air and on a ship that has slight tremors and slow movement. You take a moment or two to adjust too, holding onto Qia as the two of you stumble around. At one point, Raphica catches you both to make sure you're both standing.

"Well aren't you nimble on your legs?"

"Could say the same thing about your wings." You hum, looking out. "Are we here?"

"We've arrived." Raphica glances down at Hyrule castle, and you exhale as you wait for Rauru's order.

"Dove."

You turn around to look at Raphica, and he hums.

"Stay safe, and don't die."

He brushes a feather over your cheek, free wing reaching to pull his divine helm back on.

"I will see you after the battle."

"Come back alive." You whisper.

"Come back mortal." He mumbles, pressing the beak of his helmet to your forehead. "I love you."

You hesitate.

He senses the hesitation, and you get a quiet hum in acknowledgement.

"I can come back for it."

"I love you too." You whisper. "Be safe, handsome. Don't make me a widow before I even get the chance to stand by your side.""

"Never."

You watch them head off, dropped off on the airship as you glance at the monster armies.

In retrospect, if you had told yourself so many years ago that the Rito you fell in love with would end up standing by their side during a war, you probably wouldn't have believed yourself. But in reality, it was probably so much more ironic that it happened. Well, the universe has a strange way of moving, and considering that your quiver was giving you the same arrows you'd once had while hunting for your target, you could probably send a good portion of the demon king's army back to wherever they came from.

"Incoming!"

You fire an arrow at each of the moblin and boss bokoblins, and the army pushes foward as they set up camps on the way.

"Gaard!"

You sync with Qia, sending a whirlwind of water as you aim arrows into it, the spinning sending the arrows out as you land on the ground with a final hit. It would have been better had you both been with the fire moblin, but beggars can't be choosers, and you're not really allowed to be picky during a war. If anything, you're grateful to have barely sustained any scratches. You really have to ask what they put in their rations sometime because it's really just fixing you up as fast as you're beat down.

The two groups work fast, and everyone keeps each other updated on their positions, posts set up again and again as the army pushes further into the castle. Nearing the middle of the castle, everyone regroups. Your bow works overtime, and you'd never been so glad to have created something that worked for you better than it would ever work for anyone else. Well, that's an overstatement. Raphica uses your bow just fine. You'd let him practice on it once or twice when you met up with him forever ago.

"Now for the archfiends." Rauru nods, and you catch your breath in the camp for a moment.

"We have to push on." Qia nods.

"Don't strain yourself, now." You hum, lip quirked up amusedly as you swap your bow for your trident.

"Lady Qia, Raphica, Gaard. Head for the Grimtorok. Raphica, Zelda, Agraston, Knight Construct, to the grimghoma."

"Yes sir." You follow Qia as she leads, and you have a feeling the grimtorok is going to be rougher this time. If that awful monster in the sky said anything about their horrible newfound strength, you're far too tired to be dealing with all of this. First thing you're doing is hitting the springs in the Hebra mountains the second this awful war is over. You're certain it'll end, you just don't know how much damage your body is going to take when it does inevitably end.

You throw your trident into the head of the grimtorok, latching yourself onto it as you dig the teeth of the trident further into the back of its head, swinging on it as you tear off a chunk of the back of its head. Qia sends a whirlwind its way, and Raphica follows with one of his own, before you take advantage of the mess to force your trident down with enough force to pop the head off clean, the grimtorok turning back to ash as you sigh.

"No time to rest." Raphica offers you a wing, and you glance at the entrance to the room. "It's only the castle. Let's settle back and search for the others."

"Yes."

When everyone reaches the top of the castle and Rauru's attempt to seal Ganondorf goes south, you know what's next.

Rauru orders everyone to fall back, and you realize you only have one divine arrow left. You'd used too many to seal up the monsters, and it was a bad call on your end, but no one needs to know that. You'd use the final one to cease that awful glowing from at quiver of yours. You're close to your target, and you have a feeling it'll come in handy. The army remains on the surface so Ganondorf can be lured to the depths, and it's a plan that will probably leave more than enough casualties, but you cannot save everyone during a war.

How awful.

You're really wishing you were a fletcher about now.

The sages and Rauru all enter into the depths to fight Ganondorf head on, and you're left with the hylian army to fight the monsters so they can't reach the depths.

Your quiver glimmers stronger as you fight towards the center, and it's only once everyone defeats the grimgibdo and the forbidden construct lands back on the ground with Calamo passed out that you realize something.

It's core. There is something in its core.

Your target, glowing as the arrow from your quiver shines.

A chance.

Your eyes lock on the target you'd been tracking, bow drawn back as the target stands in the middle of the battlefield. You know it had been taken by Ganondorf. The monster from the gods. It's a curse to be stuck in the body of an animal. Is that what was acting as the core of that awful construct the whole time? You should go apologize to Qia for this. Your time is almost up, and though rare that an archer would ever find the target from the gods twice, you know what it means at the end of the battle. Your swordsmith will take care of the malice, and you fought the construct killing everyone in its wake. You're different. A bowyer who shouldn't be capable of so much. Wow. You might really like being the center of attention. Maybe Raphica is rubbing off on you.

You fire your arrow, light piercing across the field as you watch the rest of the army hold their breath.

zing

The construct seals in the arrowhead, and you stare from across the field in Hyrule. You've just sealed what you needed to in order to ascend like you were meant to be. It's a blessing, you think. Maybe your own master had been so kind to give you a final push, or maybe fate had his way and let you finally finish what you were meant to. The gloom in the sky starts clearing up as you walk past the stunned monsters and pick up your final arrow, glowing gold as you yell.

"Final push!"

Are you allowed to aura farm? Whatever.

The monsters retreat as everyone pushes forward, taking back all the outposts as you help them. You forget how much you love using a bow. It was so much better than the scrappy ones you were taking from the bokoblins mid battle. It was really, really a blessing of some sort. You're so happy to be using the bow again, and the army pushes forward again and again until the field is cleared and everything is taken back. The skies clear as you notice the malice that disappates, and you exhale in relief when the other generals yell of victory.

Oh. It's over. The sky has cleared.

A light opens from the skies, and you recognize it as the calling from your master. You hesitate to step into it, but it lunges at you, drowning you in the gold as you scream, the army watching as you disappear into nothing. You know where you'll end up, but you admit that the grabbing was highly unnecessary. You're terrified, really. You know your master is the one who summoned you, but it was still scary.

Talk about dramatics.

You open your eyes to the ceremonial hall for the anointment of godhood. What a mouthful.

"I was starting to think you didn't want to become a god." Your master quirks up a brow in amusement, and you blink at him.

"That was a really scary way to grab me."

He laughs lightly.

"Let us commence your ceremony."

Your bow, at your ceremony, is spellbound to glow. It's a strange sight, seeing the blue under your skin turn purple, and the blood that had dried on your body after the battle turn gold. Your wounds heal with grace, and you scoop from the fountain of godhood. You stare at the water for a long time, your master raising a brow at you in the process. You're contemplating something. You wonder, really, if immortality is worth outliving everyone and everything you've ever loved. You're unsure if your swordsmith friend has this dilema, though their lover is immortal as well, so really it becomes an issue for you alone.

"Speak." Your master meets eyes with you.

"If I wish to age and die alongside the people who have fought with me?"

Your master stares at you. The ascension ceremony is private for this reason specifically. You know other friends have chosen to abandon their godhood in exchange for humanity. You don't want to live forever. Unlike the swordsmith, your friends will all come to pass. Your lover will also pass before you if you choose an eterenity of being something divine. You know what that feeling is. You've met those who had regretted their choice of immortality. Your master was almost one of them. You know you are not as stupid as to choose eternity over a life of mortality. You are painfully childish, you find.

The silence in the spring makes you wonder if your master is mad.

"You cannot keep the bow in that case."

"Then I can make another." You hand your bow back to your master, smiling. "I have people I care about that I do not wish to outgrow."

"They would be mad."

"No. They would understand." You smile. "Mortality is what makes one a mortal, after all."

You want to stay human. You want to stay mortal. Raphica's years are numbered as a Rito, and you do not want to mourn your whole life for someone who will pass away quickly. You do not move on from heartbreak. It presented itself in the way that you weren't able to move on from Raphica. Childish and stupid, they tell you. Your master probably knows it well. You'd always been more mortal than divine. Even when you had been presented with godhood on a platter, you had abandoned it for a night with someone you knew you wouldn't regret spending time with. You're a foolish child, but that's what made you so painfully human.

"The bow is yours. I will not speak of this to anyone else. Your ceremony will be marked as incomplete instead of rejected." Your master looks at the bow you hold out to him, and he shakes his head. "Do not come to regret it."

"It seems unfair that you would break the rule for me."

"No. You're older now." He whispers, and you remember for a brief second that this was the man who had watched you grow since childhood. "You can make your own decisions."

You look at your master, slinging your bow on your back again, opening your arms as you pull him in for a hug.

"I won't ever forget you. Come visit as a human sometime."

"If I have the time." He nods. "Stay safe."

"Come to my funeral when it comes?"

He gives you a distant look, laughing almost.

"Alright."

Another glow envelops you as you smile at your master, eyes closing with a light beaming over the fields of Hyrule as you emerge in the grass. He had a pained look in his eyes when you had said that. You know what he meant. Your lifespan would tie into that of a Rito's when you're wedded to Raphica, and you would most likely pass away around the same time as him, but you won't regret it. Selfish, selfish, you chide yourself, but you will not regret it.

The sun is rising.

You're late. It's a bit of a mistake on your end, but you still rush over to the castle, guards letting you in as you turn to look for people. You wonder where everyone is. No one was in the field, and you suppose they're in the throne room or something. Maybe they're returning the secret stones. God, maybe they're fighting for their life or something. The sky is clear, so the chances of that are low.

Instead, when the gates open and your arrival is announced, you're tackled to the ground by Qia, careful to not hit you with her horn, her shoulders sinking as you close your eyes to hold her properly. She shakes in your hold, and you breathe slowly as she shakes. Scary. You'd gone missing right after the war because your master had just plucked you from the middle of the field. You probably scared the rest of the army as well. She squeezes you, eyes closed as your clothes bunch in her hands.

"Hi." You whisper. "I'm home."

She pulls back, looking at you as she holds you, hands resting on your forearms.

"Welcome home."

You hold her, squeezing her as she helps you up, coughing as she looks to the side, her stoic demeanor falling through as she looks to the side with a little embarassment.

Raphica's next, wings wrapped around you without warning as he spins you around to press his forehead to yours, eyes staring into your own. An action of affection according to the Rito. You think Vence had told you that after he saw that you would kiss the corner of his beak because kissing was hard to do. It's the same thing to them, and that alone makes you warm.

"Welcome home."

You hum. "Thank you for the arrows."

He smiles at you, and you pause.

"I love you."

He gives you a squeeze in response.

"I love you too."

Rauru had lost his arm, but nothing else had happened. The swordsmith is credited with much of the final work. You laugh when they cry in your arms about saving their friends. You're glad they're in one piece. You'd worried that Ganondorf had died or something. Awful, you say. They're safe, and so is everyone else. The only loss was Rauru's arm with his ultrahand. It's nothing to really worry about. The swordsmith would keep the cursed sword of the demons, and the chances of breaking out of a sword were minimal anyway. It was the same thing as the goddess sword they talked about.

That's not what worries you. What worries you is—

"Let's go home." Qia looks at you, but before you can agree, Raphica has you in his wings, looking at the queen.

"Ah, but you see. That won't work. We're betrothed."

You look at Rauru for help, and the Zonai looks to the side, avoiding your gaze. Zelda avoids your eyes too, and even your swordsmith friend turns around with her companions. Mineru doesn't even bother pretending to hide that she's also ignoring you. You're alone in this. Great. GREAT.

Qia looks you in the eye as she glares at Raphica.

"You swore—"

"I did." You tap at Raphica's feathers. "We have to rebuild the domain before I visit you in the village. It's my duty. I swore to it."

He frowns.

"I won't run this time." You crane your neck to turn to look at the Rito, and the bird huffs. "I promise. I wouldn't have accepted your proposal gift if I wanted to. Besides, I promised Queen Qia that I would rebuild the Zora Domain and be released. I still need to help rebuild Rito Village too, yeah?"

"Three months. Then, I will visit and come bring you."

You press a kiss to his beak, and he presses his beak back to your cheek.

"Fly safe."

There is a quick breakfast before everyone is sent off, and you get to say goodbye to some of the friends you'd made while fighting the war alongside so many people. You especially say goodbye to your swordsmith friend, omitting the detail that you had rejected the divinity you had been taken by in the field of Hyrule. They could find out once the time for you to pass came.

The Rito leave first, sending their regards to Rauru before flying off, and you turn to look at Qia and the Zora.

"Off we go." Qia motions at her general, and you hop on his back.

It would be a long path forward to returning the domain back to what it was, but you would not be alone.

Every full moon, Qifrey is visited by someone who should be locked up and jailed for their crimes against magic.

Yet, Qifrey is selfish to let you leave untouched.

It's quiet, none of the girls catching him, only knowing that the gate in the basement of their home is turned to a specific dial, and a pretty witch is on the other side of the gate for a brief moment for a conversation with Professor Qifrey.

Qifrey knows he's not allowed to do this, but comfort in a shared experience and a softened heart over the years overcomes any self-preservation he has. Besides, he was your equal for the longest time.

Engendale's beloved pupil.

"Qifrey."

"Brimhat."

A brimhat.

Your name had lost itself in his mind forever ago. Your name no longer meant anything to him once you had chosen to stay with the Brimhats, but he'd kept you close because you'd promised you'd be a link. You'd be his sole hope of restoring his eye, because you too had an eye missing on the same side. You returned to fix your eye, and in turn, you'd promised him his eye back if he kept your two-timing a secret.

He doesn't know which side you stand on, but quite frankly, it doesn't matter to the three wise. You've violated the rules you swore to as a witch. You'll be tried and killed for it. He'd find you stripped of all capability of using magic. Who knows. Still, he keeps you because he understands better than everyone else that losing you means losing his only line into the brimhats directly. Sure, Coco was being watched by the brimhats, but you were part of them, and you were part of their strongest members. Every time you visited, you updated him about the research.

Forbidden magic. Medical magic.

Magic that would get you beheaded and amputated for even daring to do something so illegal.

You, however. Do not care for such trivalties.

Just like Qifrey, you just want your eye back.

and maybe hack the mainframe of healing magic, but alas.

Qifrey will know when you fix up your eye. For the time being, you wear a magic circle on top of it to repress the pain. You feel much more hope than he does, and sometimes he's bitter and wonders if he should have begged you for something similar on his own glasses, but he'd get captured at first chance if he did. He is not above using forbidden magic. His goal is for the annihilation of the brimhats, but he is not above using one to fix his eye.

It's a fat lie for anyone with eyes, though. He's probably more in love with you than he is with Olruggio, and that is already an impossible to cross bar.

"I should be able to fix you up next time we bump into each other." You hum. "I had pleasant results with experimenting on my own eye, and the seed should be removed with my new spell."

Qifrey stares at you, and you tilt your head back at him.

"Qifrey."

He forgets how to breathe.

"You're beautiful."

You forget to breathe too.

Qifrey knows deep down that even if you were lying to him and ended up killing him for a fixed eye, he'd forgive you in a heartbeat. He'd loved you for as long as he could remember being awake after being put in that coffin all those years ago. Two shared souls in the coffin. Both of you were meant to make up one large silverwood tree. He'd been soul-bound to you since that moment in the dirt.

However, you'd chosen a path you can never come back from for the both of you because your master had let you. Your master was not above it, therefore you did not care for the rules of the three wise. You simply did what you needed to in order to get closer to your goal. You don't care for rules you swore to adhere to when you became a witch. You lied through your teeth, and it makes you laugh in retrospect whenever Qifrey brings it up.

You don't want power or recognition. You want your eye back.

Qifrey knows that well, so it's why he keeps you close.

//

Engendale's tried for treason and considered guilty, and you show up at the top of the courtroom, waving sweetly as Qifrey holds his breath at the sight of you.

Your skin is glowing with glyphs.

The Knights Moralis lunge for you as you wave them all off with a brush of your hands, and Qifrey meets eyes with you.

Two eyes. Your covering is gone.

He chooses to fight you himself, aware that you'd never hurt him, but his spells are all deflected as you get closer to him.

No one else in the room can move. You must've drawn a spell around the outside of the Great Hall.

Qifrey notices the sigil on your left eye when you finally get close enough to him for him to see anything, and he drops the spell that was in his hand when your hand manages to grab his collar.

"You're giving up?"

"It's fine." Qifrey smiles, pen broken in half under your grip as you have a fistfull of his robe in your hand. "You would never hurt me."

"It's going to get you killed."

"I love you."

He accepts his fate as the blunt end of the staff stabs right into his missing eye, magic emitting out from his body as the girls scream for him, Olruggio holding them and wondering just how it got to this whole situation. It should have been foolproof. You shouldn't have been able to touch Qifrey, and the worst part is that he doesn't know why Qifrey has a missing eye because the only thing he knows is that he has to forget every time he does. What a curse to have to meet eyes with you as the light forces you both from view.

The radius of the magic blast swallows the entirety of the hall, and once the magic dissipates and the girls can open their eyes, the brimhat is missing and Qifrey is unharmed on the field.

Everyone makes a run for him at the same time.

He's unharmed. Untouched, and his glasses have shattered in the impact of the stab, but he's alive and breathing. They haul him into a room, keeping an eye on him and making sure that he's well. The waters outside still with Qifrey's absence. When Qifrey furrows his brow in his dream, the weather storms as well. It's a scary eeriness. Yet, the fields continue to grow and prosper, as though Qifrey's unconsciousness were growth instead of death. It would have been absurd to assume that the universe would still or stop for someone who should hold no significance over it.

They bring him home when he isn't awake in a month, and he's left to be monitored. At one point, Qifrey's old master comes in to visit personally, hand brushing over Qifrey's forehead, staring quietly.

You had been Engendale's pupil. Not corrupt like your master, but a bender of morality and someone who did not care for the rules established. As far as you were concerned, you cared more to learn everything about magic regardless of morality than any money you could gain from people. Corrupt, yet so different from your master. You had not been someone bad. You'd been a child who always wanted more. Moderation was a trait they valued, as curiosity got most everyone's memories taken away, but you had escaped. Weaved and snaked your way out of everything. By the time that you had been seen again, there was a brim around your hat and an all-knowing smile that Beldaruit knew all too well.

You'd learned what you wanted to.

"Corruption breeds corruption." The man mumbles, and Qifrey furrows his brows.

Deep down, he knew that Qifrey wanted to believe that you only joined the brimmed hats to find a way to cure his eye. However, the multiple offenses you had taken against the witches made it increasingly harder and harder to believe that your true goal was to heal him. Though it seems the seed is now missing from the boy, but you are still nowhere to be seen. He might forgive you if you hand yourself in out of respect for Qifrey, but he finds it hard to believe that you'll end up resigning to a fate where you don't know anything.

Qifrey stirs in bed, and Beldaruit brushes a hand over his head to smooth out the furrow.

"You must wake up and find them."

It's impossible to deny your importance.

Maybe if he begs the other two wise, you'll be spared severe punishment and only forced to erase your memory.

Or, maybe he won't need to at all. Maybe Qifrey would find you and hide you. That boy's always been the type to do as he wills anyway. He'd begged him to let Coco live since she was tied to the brimhats, so perhaps with your repentance he'd beg for the same. Or who knows. He's seen how the boy looks after visited by you. Well, he'd help if the boy ever came to him for help, but he'd also keep his mouth shut if he'd ever sense traces of you around him after all of this is over.

Who knows. Maybe you love Qifrey as much as he loves you.

You might just disappear from his life forever.

Either or, he hopes Qifrey wakes up safe and alive.

Qifrey wakes up to a sigil on his eye, but both of his eyes.

He can see.

It's almost like he's dreaming.

Both eyes work, and his perception of depth scares him a little. He'd gotten so used to being bad at it that it feels different now that he can truly assess things. He, unfortunately, has no memory of how he got his eye back. It's concerning how much of an absence there is in his life right now. It's like he's forgotten Olruggio or something, but he's still here, and the girls are all here. They'd tell him if he forgot anything, right? Surely.

Unless they forgot too.

It's a whole fiasco when he wakes up, and everyone checks him thrice to make sure he's in one piece. He'd been asleep for over a month, but all of his girls are crying about how he has his eye back. It's a strange feeling. When he asks how he got it back, no one can find the words to describe it. It's like they're tongue tied or spellbound. He has a feeling he might know why, but the absence of someone he only saw once a full moon. His body remembers it, and sometimes he itches to move.

He's sent home after a month of observation from the doctors.

Some nights, when the moon is round, he finds himself downstairs where the gate is out of habit, staring at the dial that he closes his eyes and lets his body turn. The dial he usually moves out of muscle memory on the full moon leads to vast emptiness. It is gone, but Qifrey feels like there should have been something there at some point. Maybe the other end of the gate was no longer turned to that coordinate. For the most part, it does not plague his life, but he does not enjoy not remembering after he'd been the one to erase everyone else's memory for so long.

The void that stares back at him every full moon is a cycle for a long, long time.

It isn't until his students are all proper witches that he wonders if he should give up his ritual on every full moon to forget who is supposed to be waiting for him on the other side of the void. The girls are older now, and he's getting to that point too. The brimhats are mostly taken care of, and Coco's got her mother back from the magic. Yet, Qifrey feels like there's still something missing in his life.

How awful of him when he has Olruggio with him.

On the night of his birthday, it's a full moon. The girls come over and celebrate with him, a cake made, and Olruggio lights the candles as Qifrey makes his wish. It's just another night, and he's made up his resolve to stop turning the dial like some drunkard at midnight every full moon. He wonders where his habit even comes from considering he'd woken up to turning the dial some nights while asleep.

Talk about muscle memory.

The girls are all settled into their old rooms that Qifrey had left untouched, and Qifrey finds himself back at the gate again, turning the dials, expecting the same void to greet him so he can close it.

Except it doesn't.

Someone's standing on the other end of the gate.

You.

You're standing on the other end of the gate.

Qifrey draws a spell of water before he can react properly, and you jab the bottom of your staff in front of Qifrey's eye as he freezes in place, memories flashing back to him.

Sealed. You'd placed a sealing spell on his eye that blocked out his memories of you.

You duck the magic that threatens to drown you under, hat knocked off in the process, face exposed as you cast a protective barrier, meeting eyes with Qifrey.

It feels strange to see both his eyes.

At least it worked.

You let down the spell once you think you're safe.

Qifrey yanks you right out of the gate, forcing you to land in his chest with a thud as you groan in pain.

You look up.

Qifrey visibly flinches at the sight of your face.

One sigil on your left eye.

It's painfully visible when he's so close to you like this.

Magic doesn't require the exchange of something equal, so it must be for some other reason. The transfer of something, maybe. He's not entirely sure, but now that you've carved ink into your own body, there is no return for you. In a way, he wonders if you had to run the experiment on yourself before you could run it on him. A curse and awful of you. He has the same sigil in his new eye, though. What a strange experience. To match an eye with you.

"You—"

"If you don't have anything nice to say, you better shut up whitehead." You hiss, shaking off your clothes, and Qifrey stops. "What?"

"I feel like I should hand you over right now."

"Your savior? Ouch. Talk about ratting on old friends. I just gave you your memories back for your birthday, old man."

"Or I can hide you."

"You'd do that? For stupid ol' me? Your girls would beg to learn forbidden magic from me."

"Then we lie and say that it's regular medicine. You can heal without drawing." He pauses. "They've also all moved out."

"I forgot you're old now."

"Oh, yes." He mumbles. "I'm nowhere near as young as we used to be."

"Man, I'm old now." You groan.

"It was bound to happen." Qifrey sighs. "Aren't you—"

"Alright, now that my mission was accomplished, I should head back so you don't get nuked by the three wise. I doubt being a nepo baby would save you right now anyway—"

"Yes, but." Qifrey breathes, stilling as he remembers you're in his lap right now.

You'd shown up all on your own because you'd wanted to check to see how he was doing.

It's making his head spin. He forgot how much he liked you before you'd gone and erased his memories.

"I should punish you." Qifrey mumbles, hand moving to brush a thumb over your cheek.

Maybe turn you in to the three wise and then be promised permanent retirement and no longer take any more students the same way Beldaruit had stopped after him. He'd be promised it anyway, but he missed you. It makes him feel kind of stupid with how much he missed you anyway. He'd prefer you close to him anyway. He'd never see this version of you again if he really did turn you in like he threatened you.

Punishment would entail something lighter.

Something he'd like.

"Since when do you do that anyway?" You lean in slightly, and Qifrey sighs as he presses his lips to yours.

Maybe he's desperate for touch again. He knew well when the two of you were technical enemies but collaborators that this would have sent you both down a spiral that would kill you both. Your lips feel good against his, intoxicating and enthralling and he can't believe he'd resisted doing this for so long. Well, maybe now that he isn't afraid of anything, he can actually do what he's wanted to. Starting with kissing you breathless, maybe.

He parts his lips to get a breath in before he's back to kissing you, the hand originally supporting him against the floor clenching around the fabric of your chest, desperate to breathe you in so hard that the air in his lungs exhale like yours forever. It's his first taste of eternity that he'd craved so hard. You'd make it your life's mission to remind him that neither of you were allowed to even think twice about courting, so to get you like this under him without worrying that his tree would entangle itself with yours is a ray of light he soaks in.

You gasp from his kissing, and he whispers to have you breathe through your nose as he nips once at your bottom lip, and he licks at the indent his teeth left as you pant to breathe, and when you just barely catch your breath, he presses his lips to yours again. It's a cycle he plans on forcing you both to stay in, and heaven knows when you'll be free from his grip as he rests a hand on your waist as you adjust to get a better angle to kiss him properly. He groans into your mouth when your hips roll over his, and your brain fuzzes right up when you can't breathe again.

You whimper against him, biting his bottom lip particularly hard as he finally lets go, panting slightly as his eyes stay stuck on the way you breathe with parted lips, catching your breath as you hold your hands against his chest weakly. His gaze doesn't tear. He's waiting for you to catch your breath again so he can kiss you again.

"You—" You heave. "you edacious man."

"I've been waiting forever." Qifrey mumbles, and he's halfway leaned in for another kiss when Olruggio stares at the two of you from the stairs.

"First, you take in a human who accidentally used forbidden magic, then you start making out with a brimhat? Qifrey, what's next, you become one yourself?"

"Long time no see, Olruggio." You hum, hand pressed over Qifrey's mouth as the witch goes red to his ears. "Miss me?"

"I didn't know you were still alive."

"How about a thank you for saving your boyfriend?"

"Your boyfriend." He tosses you a bag, and you blink at the contents. "Get your old hat back on."

"You're gonna hide me too?"

"The home owes you for saving Qifrey."

"No, no. It was nothing much in the grand scheme of things."

"It was, but whatever you want to believe."

"There was never a favor to pay back." You start stripping, and Olruggio's eyes widen before he's heading back up the stairs.

You stand up and turn around, pulling your robes over your head as Qifrey looks at the giant glyph on your back.

Qifrey stares at the marks on your skin instead as you put your robes back on, brimhat set to the side as he runs a finger down the dip of your back.

"What spell is this?"

"Wings. For flight. I only need to stretch my arms back to activate, and then my wings back once I no longer need them." You hum. "I should take you on a flight sometime."

"As long as we're not caught."

"Not if it's in my cabin." You hum, securing your pointed hat. "Your girls still with you?"

"They've all moved out, but it was my birthday so they're back for the night."

"Maybe we can all go flying tomorrow at mine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And, well. If the girls wake up to a witch with enormous wings in the field they used to run around in, then it's not anyone's situation to explain except for Qifrey.

Not that he would anyway.

"This is so loopy." You mumble, holding onto Damian's arm while looking at all the photos. The studio's closed for the day, and Damian had taken the chance to bring you in without all of the eyes.

"A testament of our love." He hums.

"Your love."

"No. I would not have had the confidence to paint you this much if you had not loved me as much as you do."

"Sap." You mumble, leaning into his shoulder as he stares at the walls. "It's very pretty, and I'm very honored."

"You no longer deny that you don't deserve it anymore."

"Well, you make it pretty clear that you only do things for people that they deserve. Also, if I tried to insult myself right now, I think you'd send me home and make me sit in front of the mirror to compliment myself."

"You're learning." He mumbles, staring at the center portrait, painting of you in white from their wedding day he did at your first look. "Isn't it pretty."

"Yes." You hum. "I think you've made it pretty clear. It's very pretty."

"Only because the muse is pretty."

"Okay, you're just steering into sap territory again." You roll your eyes, squeezing Damian's bicep as he turns to look at the first sketch to the side. You look incredibly young in the picture. Probably from when you were in middle school and you first started dating Damian.

"What an honor it is to have loved you for so long and get to love you for the rest of your life."

"Doll." The Prototype takes a step towards you, and you take a step back.

Doey's close by, and one scream from you could send him over to beat the Prototype out again, but you stay quiet. The Prototype's been looking for you, and as much as you'd rather die than return to him, you're also someone capable of taking care of the toys who have escaped to the Safe Haven. You can trade your autonomy for their safety. You consider it.

"I know you miss me. Tell me where the toys are, hm?"

You don't answer him, taking a second step back instead.

"Doll. You married me. I'm your husband. Don't you miss me?" He whispers, taking a step closer as you calculate how many steps you have left before your back hits the wall.

"Well, you've always been one for no words. A shame they failed to give you a working voicebox when they made you." The Prototype shakes his head. "Come home, won't you? Everyone misses you."

You don't miss him.

You lacked autonomy when the Prototype locked you down and started calling you his wife, deluded the same way that Elliot Ludwig was when his wife had divorced him forever ago, and you blame the man for turning your favorite boy into the monster that he is now.

It's a shame, though. That he has to repeat the same conflict his father had with his wife.

"Doll."

It's less kind this time, and you laugh.

"Rot in hell, Prototype."

You let out a blood-curling scream, and the Prototype flinches as a mass of dough bursts out of the nearby pipe and catches the Prototype off guard.

Who are you kidding.

It's both instinctive and done out of necessity.

The Prototype stabs through the Butcher's spine, sick crunch sounding in the train station, and Poppy yells in fear as the Prototype picks up the Butcher by the spine and drops him into the vial of Poppy Gel. The Butcher would decompose in the gel, and then he could use the decomposed parts to put you back together.

For the time being, though, he would send Poppy back into the cage where she could sit and think about the consequences of her actions. She'd killed the only thing holding his sanity together, and she'd done it all so she could save a bunch of orphans that are long gone. There's no food left for anyone anymore. The only ones who should have survived until now are the two of them.

You'd been a treat and delight to spend time with, but you'd only stayed alive because the Prototype had fed you.

He wanted to keep you alive. You were so sharp and keen, capable of executing his every order without slipping up or making any mistakes, and now you were dead because he didn't just kill the Butcher first chance he got.

He wonders what you'd have to say about all of this.

Maybe a blank stare like he was used to or something.

"And you." He laughs, finger jabbed into your chest as his voice changes back to one you're very familiar with. "Ran off without sending word to me sixteen years ago, hm?"

You stare at him, eyes widening.

"Ollie."

"It's The Prototype to you." He hisses. "How would you like to take part in our perfect family? Turned toy too?"

"Elliot told me that it was dangerous if I stayed. He died shortly after I met Poppy and sent me away." You stare at his face, and he sneers.

"Well, maybe you were the smarter of us two to be stupid. I saw how agile you were on the upper floors."

You wrap a hand around his finger, whispering as you get close to his face.

"Then kill me for escaping when you couldn't. You know you want to."

"No." He grins. "I'm going to do worse things."

It's the last thing you see before you're stabbed into, blood slipping out of your mouth, and when you do wake up, you notice you're smaller, eyes meeting Poppy's across from you, her head stitched up as you realize what's just happened.

You move your hand, staring at the porcelain that meets your eye.

"Say thank you to your brother."

The Prototype grins from behind Poppy, and you laugh.

"Coward. You've just made me unkillable." You pick up one of the fallen pipes by your body, and you wind up to swing. "Let's fight like the old days."

"You won't win." The Prototype stares at you, bracing anyway as you swing at a pipe instead, cold air freezing the Prototype's legs as you pick up Poppy to run.

"Don't need to!" You yell. "So? Poppy? Where to?"

She clings onto you, giving you directions as she keeps an eye out for your back.

"Left."

"Coração, you wound me." Harlequin sighs, your hand resting in his as he holds a hand over his heart. "What was that little stunt with that friend, hm? Did you want them to die? You know we're always open to bringing in fools for food."

"I thought I was nothing more than food?" You raise a brow at him, trying to take your hand back before something green lunges at you, holding you in place.

The lights in his tent are dim now.

The same tentacles that wrapped around your ankle when you entered snake around you, legs and all, and Harlequin takes off his mask, tongue sliding out as you crane your neck.

You can't see him.

"It seems the pin isn't enough to remind you of who you belong to."

His tongue licks up your neck.

"Should I bite?"

"I thought we weren't serious, Harlequin." You look at the tent flap slightly opened, and sigh. "You said you had plenty and I wasn't special, yet you're here insisting on biting me to mark me. So, which one is it?"

Harlequin answers your question with his tongue shoved halfway down your throat, biting at your bottom lip as you try to move your own tongue, proving to be useless when you try and pull back to breathe before you're pushed right back to meet him by those tentacles. You try and breathe, really, but your head grows fuzzier the longer he keeps you there.

Awful, awful creature.

When he's sure your brain is on the verge of shutting down, he pulls from you but keeps you in place, and you pant to catch your breath, lips wet with spit as he huffs.

"I think that's plenty of an answer, hm?"

"I don't knowww." You drawl, lips curling into a provocative smile. "Maybe another kiss would confirm it."

"You're thinking." You blink at him from the other side of the bed, a cheeto on your hand as he stares back.

"I"m always thinking, genius."

"Sure, but you only look like this when you're thinking extra hard about something existential." You point a cheeto at him. "Hit me."

"It's fine." He turns around to hand you a bottle of water, and he opens it before handing it to you. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Feels weird sleeping with you in a bed that isn't the size of a sesame seed, but whatever." You hum. "I wonder if we'll find a way into each others' arms anyway."

Tim hums noncommittally. He would not like you to end up in his arms and wake up to him with a morning wood. He'd probably die if you did. Well, not even the worst part of your friendship. He doesn't know how many times he's talked about his girlfriends with you and you'd told him TMI.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're thinking about me." You put the water to the bedside stand, turning around to look at Tim when he doesn't answer.

"You wish."

You bark out a laugh, humming as you turn around to look at him.

"We could recreate that alien meme right now."

"I'm not going to hold your face and pretend we're in a crisis."

"Wayne manor is far from crisis, yeah." You hand him the bag of snacks, looking at the movie screen as you raise a brow.

"I'm not getting out of bed for tissues if you cry." Tim rolls his eyes.

"You will anyway." You smile at him sweetly. "You love me."

"Yeah, yeah keep telling yourself that."