#coa sprite

The goatherd furrowed his brow and stood up, forgoing his comfortable spot against the tree to instead follow Hue back inside to where Era had apparently been sleeping all day.

If it were almost any one of the others Gloam would brush it off as them just taking a nap, but Era was one of the Links in their group who barely slept under normal circumstances.

Maybe he was just really tired?

They entered one of the rooms several of them were sharing, Gloam noting the lump on one of the beds. Drawing closer with Hue on his heels, Gloam saw Era tightly curled up under the sheets, already odd since he tended to sleep ramrod-straight on his back. His blanket was tight around his shoulders, breath wheezing in his throat, and when Gloam leaned closer he could see his face was flushed.

Wait...

Gloam leaned down and pressed a hand to Era’s forehead, then winced at the heat under his palm.

“Darn it, he’s got a fever,” he muttered, and at his touch, Era’s eyes flicked open.

He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair limp with sweat. He was always so put together, Gloam had to admit it was weird seeing him this... disheveled.

“We moving again?” the knight rasped, and made to sit up, arms trembling. Hue pushed him back down, and shook his head.

“No way, you’re sick Era. We’re not moving anytime soon.”

Era’s face paled.

“Sick? No. No way, I’m not sick I can’t be sick—” he said thickly, panic leeching into his voice.

“Era calm down, you’ve just got a bit of a fever,” Gloam soothed, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “You only need some rest, you’ll be fine.”

Era swallowed, and Gloam could see him mentally push the panic down.

“But... we need to get going tomorrow,” he protested with a cough. “This was only supposed to be a quick stop, and then—”

“We can spare a day or two,” Gloam interrupted. “We switched pretty recently, I doubt we’ll leave this time for a little while yet. And you can’t go anywhere in this condition.“

Era looked like he was about to argue, but instead sneezed several times in a row, each one getting progressively louder.

Hue muffled a giggle at the surprisingly high-pitched sneezes, then shrank back at the look Era gave him.

“Umm, I’ll go get some soup I saved from the other night,” he said, then quickly escaped out the door. Gloam watched him go with an amused smile, then pulled a chair to Era’s bedside, sitting down as he looked down at the other hero.

The knight’s eyes were half-lidded and weary, but he made an effort to look more awake once he realized Gloam’s gaze was on him.

“I really am all right,” he rasped, and Gloam shook his head, sighing.

“No, you really aren’t,” he countered. “Hue said you’ve been sleeping all day.”

“So?”

Gloam eyeballed him. “You are always up at the crack of dawn, same as me. The only reason I didn’t notice you sleeping in earlier was because I was preoccupied,” he said a bit guiltily, then resumed his stern look. “You. Are. Sick.”

Era shrank in his blanket, looking away from Gloam.

“But I’m holding us up,” he rasped quietly. “We were going to try to make it to the castle, we might not have time if we w-wait—”

Era broke off into a stream of thick coughs, raspy and painful sounding. He groaned when he finished, and Gloam handed him some water, the knight weakly sipping at it. Once he’d finished, Gloam put his hand back on his forehead, trying to get a sense of just how bad his fever was. Era flinched, but relaxed after a minute, eyes drooping.

“I think your fever could be worse, but I don’t know how long you’ve had it either,” Gloam murmured, then pulled his hand away with a sigh. “Either way... it’s certainly not the greatest. We can see if this town has a healer, but in the meantime try and get more sleep?”

“Slept all morning,” Era mumbled. “Don’t need more.”

“You’re practically dozing off Era,” Gloam said dryly. “Just go back to sleep. Or I’ll get everyone in here and they can yell at you too.”

Era winced. “...don’t do that.”

The door creaked as he finished speaking, and Gloam turned, expecting to see Hue. But Sprite walked in instead, looking a little out of breath, like he’d run all the way here then stopped right at the door in an effort to seem nonchalant.

“Hue said you’re sick,” he blurted out, then crossed his arms and gave Era a foul look. “How on earth did you manage that?”

“You think I know?” Era croaked, and Gloam watched the worry in Sprite’s eyes grow more prominent at how weak his voice was.

The kid hesitated, then stalked over and jumped up on the bed next to him, ignoring Era’s immediate protests.

“Kid I’m going to get you sick, get off,” Era said sharply, but Sprite only crossed his arms behind his head and laid down.

“You shared your canteen with me yesterday, I’m probably already doomed,” he snipped back. “And I heard you and Gloam arguing, just go back to sleep, huh? It’s going to take you forever to get better if you don’t rest.”

“This from the kid who sleeps like two hours every night,” Era said with an eye roll, and Sprite elbowed him.

“Just go to sleep!”

Era still looked reluctant, and Sprite sighed, then creamed the knight with a pillow he’d grabbed without an ounce of apology. Era let out a affronted hey! and Sprite glared at him, holding the pillow threateningly under his arm.

“Era. Captain. Old Link. Go to sleep,” Sprite stressed. “Or it’ll be even longer ‘til we can leave.”

Era continued to glare half-heartedly at him, which Sprite returned with an equally fierce look, and Gloam decided to leave them to it.

“I’ll go see if Hue found that soup or not,” he said, trying not to smile, and began to leave the room.

“Wait, make sure nobody else comes in here,” Era rasped before he could go, grabbing Gloam’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. He gave him a serious look, and Gloam paused. “We don’t need it spreading. Keep Cloud out especially, you know h-how—”

He broke into a coughing fit again, and Gloam pulled his blanket back up around him, Sprite giving the knight a thinly-veiled look of worry.

“We’ll try and keep everyone out, calm down,” Gloam assured. “We’re serious though, obviously you need more rest. At least try and go back to sleep, I’ll go bring you some food in a bit.” Era didn’t reply, and Gloam left the room as Sprite rummaged in his pouch, already wondering how he was going to keep all the other Links out.

He pushed off his blanket and got to his feet, setting the dagger back in its place. Squinting in the small bit of moonlight shining through the tent flap, he tried to locate the lantern he knew was around. It was a full moon tonight, but he could still only make out a small lump where his tentmate lay.

Mask, or young Link as he was known to most of the army, had only been sleeping in the same tent as Link for a little more than two weeks now. But he hadn’t ever made any noise when he slept, and the increasingly loud whimpers were rather out of character for him.

Link located the lantern and lit it, sending a faint yellow glow around the tent. Proxi stirred slightly from her spot, and Link froze, but she settled back down.

He then padded over quietly to Mask’s cot, peering down at the kid’s face. His expression was twisted up and fearful, and he was clutching his blanket with a white-knuckled grip. Link frowned, reaching out a hand to shake him, but Mask suddenly bolted upright with a strangled gasp.

Link started in surprise, but quickly regained his composure as the kid breathed heavily, eyes staring blankly at the wall. The captain reached out a hesitant hand and set it on Mask’s arm, unsure if the gesture would be welcome or not.

Mask whipped his head over to Link and stared at him, and they both froze.

The tent was silent for what felt like a rather long time.

“What day is it?” Mask whispered eventually, so quietly Link could barely make out what he said.

“It’s... Friday,” he replied cautiously, unsure of where this was going, “or it was anyway. But it’s late, so it’s nearly Saturday now, probably already is.”

Sprite paled at his words and jolted forward, and he would have leapt straight out of the bed if Link hadn’t grabbed his arm.

“Whoa kiddo, what’s—“

“Let go captain, the moon- the moon is gonna—!” he pulled desperately at Link’s hand, prying at his fingers still holding on.

“Sprite, hey, the moon is where it always is, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he soothed, trying to stop the kid from launching himself out of bed. He obviously wasn’t totally awake, some vestige of sleep still clinging to his consciousness and Link didn’t want him to hurt himself.

But Mask continued to struggle, looking more panicked by the second.

Link glanced over at Proxi, hoping she was awake, but she was somehow sleeping through all this and hadn’t stirred. So much for her help.

“Captain let me through!” Mask gasped, “we’re all going to die if I don’t—!”

A sudden thought occurred to Link, and he scooped Mask up into his arms, the kid so surprised by the action that he stopped struggling.

“Here, let’s go look at the moon.” Link said, walking to the tent flap. “If there’s anything wrong with it I won’t stop you from what you need to do, but otherwise you ought to go back to bed okay?”

Mask pursed his lip but nodded, wiggling a bit so he could see better.

Link pulled back the flap and walked out of their shared tent, holding the kid gently, but also tight enough so that he couldn’t just bolt.

Several clouds were covering the moon at the moment, and as they waited for them to move, Link noticed that Mask’s heart was beating frantically, his breath quicker then it should be as well. He shifted his grip a little, and while it wasn’t quite a hug, it seemed to do the trick and he felt the kid’s tension ease slightly.

It took what felt like forever, but the clouds finally blew past the moon. And they revealed a bright pale yellow circle in the sky for them both to see, with nothing visibly wrong with it.

Link looked down at Mask, cautiously checking his reaction.

The kid was staring at the sky, the moonlight making his eyes seem brighter then normal. He blinked a few times, gaze never leaving the moon, and leaned forward just a little in Link’s arms, mouth open a bit.

Then he abruptly looked down at the ground, ears a bright red.

Link frowned at the reaction, watching as Mask curled in on himself. His face was still pale, and he almost looked worse then he did a few minutes ago, head lowered and a heart that Link could feel still beating too fast.

“Sprite?” he asked gently.

“S-sorry captain,” Mask muttered, ears flat. “I thought it...”

He swallowed and shook his head.

“...never mind.”

He started to pull off Link’s arms around him, but the captain stopped him from leaving, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Sprite,” he said softly, and the kid quit moving. “Are you okay?”

Mask didn’t answer for several minutes, during which he didn’t look at either Link or the moon.

“...I don’t know,” he whispered.

Link startled, but covered it up with a cough while his thoughts whirled. He hadn’t been expecting anything more then an abrupt yes, and then for the kid to stalk off. Mask being so honest without repeated hedging on someone else’s part was rather out of character.

He must have been really bothered by whatever had set him off.

“...okay,” Link replied, carefully testing the now completely unknown waters of this conversation. “Are... you ready to go back inside?”

Mask shrugged and kept looking away.

Link held in a sigh, knowing it would be taken the wrong way, and pulled the kid up into his arms a bit better. He pulled his scarf off from where he’d haphazardly thrown it on before going outside, and wrapped it around Mask’s shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it..?” he asked after a moment of them just sitting together.

Mask firmly shook his head.

“No,” he said in a low voice that sounded a little wavery. “And there’s nothing to tell anyway. It’s just... n-nothing.”

He gave a small sniffle, and Link hesitated for only a second before pulling him close, the kid tucking his head into his chest and still pointedly not looking at him.

“All right,” Link murmured, tucking his scarf more tightly around the kid, “I get it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Mask just nodded again.

Another silence fell between them, Link quietly running his hand through Mask’s hair as he stayed silent in his lap. The kid’s shaky breathing eventually began to slow, and he relaxed in Link’s arms, letting out a small sigh as his head began to droop.

It was still the middle of the night, a fact which he’d seem to have forgotten and that his body was reminding him of now.

“You still awake Sprite?” Link murmured after a bit.

Mask only hummed in reply.

Link felt his mouth upturn and he tugged the kid up in his arms, getting to his feet and going back into their tent. He sat down on Mask’s cot, glancing down at the nearly asleep hero in his arms, and began to extract him from his hold.

It took him a minute, but he managed to get Mask onto his bed without jostling him too much, though he didn’t have the heart to pull the scarf off him. Mask pulled it closer around his arms, and lifted his head just a bit to look up at Link.

“Thanks dad,” he murmured. Then his head dropped entirely and his breathing evened out.

Link stared down at the bundle tucked next to him, trying not to completely freak out.

He’d—

He’d called him dad.

Not big brother, or captain, or old Link, but... dad.

A weird mushy feeling began to warm his chest, and Link leaned back against the tent wall, the cot creaking under him. Mask shifted a little, but quickly stilled again.

“Dad?” he whispered, running a disbelieving hand through his bangs.

He should probably be focusing more on why exactly Mask had been freaking out earlier and how to breach the subject again at some point, but his mind was fully stuck on that one muttered word.

A father... him?

He didn’t know the first thing about fatherhood, his own dad had died before he was even born. And he’d only known the kid barely a month, how... he hadn’t signed up for the army expecting to become a parent! He hadn’t been trained for this at all!

Mask nuzzled a bit closer in to his scarf, and Link watched him for a minute, the warm feeling increasing in its assault in his chest.

Maybe... maybe he could do this.

Link let out a quiet breath, running a hand through Mask’s hair one last time before heading back to his own cot. He looked back at the kid once, all twisted up in his scarf with his face smoothed over as he slept, and felt his cheeks pull into a smile.

“You’re welcome Sprite,” he whispered.

He took his gaze off of Sprite for a moment, glancing up at the only other occupants of the room. Cloud and his Zelda were murmuring quietly to each other a little ways away, heads pressed together, and Era pointedly didn’t listen to their conversation. He could hear it a little, but he’d grant them their privacy.

Cloud deserved a moment alone with his wife, especially after nearly watching her bleed out.

A pang went through Era at the reminder of the fight, and he looked back down at Sprite, blood on his face stark against his pale skin. He’d seen Sprite run towards Zelda and had meant to follow after him, but he’d been swept into the fight, focused only on fighting off the yiga soldiers until he’d heard Sprite shriek.

He’d immediately dropped what he was doing and bolted to his side, horror striking him like a physical blow when he’d seen Sprite lying bleeding on the ground.

Era swallowed, holding Sprite a little closer to his chest.

He’d practically been stabbed, a huge slice ripping into his side that had left a gash in his tunic so big Era wasn’t sure even Kaleidoscope would be able to mend it. Sprite’s middle was covered in half drying blood, and he’d obviously been injured internally based on the blood at the corner of his mouth.

He’d been horribly injured, and even if they’d had a fairy in the first place Era would have made him rest for at least the next day, taking it easy with a wound that would doubtless scar.

And what injuries had Era himself sustained in the battle?

None.

He didn’t have a scratch on him and Sprite and Cloud’s Zelda has both almost died.

And Sprite still could.

But how was that different from any other part of Era’s life? He’d fought in almost countless battles, killed endless amounts of monsters and fought Ganondorf himself, and yet he still stood here, alive and on his own two feet. He’d watched so many men cut down over the years, dying in countless gruesome ways and horrible injuries that took longer to kill through infection or lack of supplies

And yet, he was still alive.

It didn’t matter where he was, what he was doing or who he fought alongside.

He always went on unscathed while the people closest to him suffered.

“Era..?”

The knight blinked out of his gruesome thoughts and looked down at the boy in his arms, watching as Sprite opened his eyes a fraction. A bit of relief hit him at the sight of him awake, and he conjured up a smile for him.

“Hey kiddo,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair. “How are you feeling?”

Sprite let out a quiet mumble in reply, then winced as he tried to shift himself around in Era’s arms.

“Easy, you’re not exactly healed yet,” Era warned, stopping him from rolling over. “The others are out looking for a fairy, take it slow until they come back, okay?”

Sprite sighed and stopped moving, looking quietly up at the stone ceiling instead

“...Zelda?” he whispered, and Era glanced back over at Cloud and his wife again. They were still talking in hushed voices, and Era felt just the smallest touch of jealousy as they leaned together and kissed, quickly looking away.

“Yeah, she’s doing fine. Thanks to you,” he said a bit chidingly, and Sprite smirked just a little.

“Good. Be stupid... if she wasn’...” he mumbled, then winced and put a hand to his side. “Ow.”

“Easy,” Era reminded him, and Sprite hummed in grumpy acknowledgment.

They stopped talking then, Sprite staring tiredly around the temple, Era taking the opportunity to look around as well.

It was an ancient place, that much was obvious based on the weathered bricks and vines that snuck up through cracks in the stones. A tree grew nearby where Era was seated, and as he gazed around, he blinked in surprise at the sight of what looked like the Master Sword itself mounted in a pedestal across the room.

Era filed the sight away to ask Cloud about later, and went back to watching the boy in his arms, who only looked more tired as the minutes went on.

“I think you can sleep if you want to,” Era said gently, watching as Sprite’s eyes drooped the longer he stayed awake. Sprite for once didn’t argue, a sure sign of how exhausted (and in pain) he was that he merely let his eyes slip closed.

“‘kay,” he murmured, then turned his head into Era’s chest with an exhausted sigh. “Thanks dad.”

Era felt a familiar warmth in his chest at the title, and pulled Sprite more securely into his arms, letting him nestle up to him.

“Get some rest kiddo,” he said softly, setting his scarf over him. “You’ve done enough today.”

“We need to get back up there,” Sprite grumbled, pulling a twig out of his hair. “You okay enough to climb?”

“I’m fine,” Hibiscus nodded, dusting off his tunic and replacing the flower that had fallen from his hair. “I just got a little knocked around. I’ll be— wait.”

He froze, and looked at his tunic, patting down his chest and neck with a confused expression.

“My necklace, I— where is it?” he breathed. Then he began to pat himself more frantically, looking in his shirt and falling to his knees to search around at the ground beneath him. “I can’t find it, it’s not on me Sprite I can’t find it—”

“Whoa, calm down Hib, I’m sure it’s here somewhere,” Sprite said with a raised eyebrow. “It probably just came loose when we fell, stop freaking out. Is it really so important?”

“Yes,” Hibiscus snapped, shooting him a look, and Sprite froze at the unusual panic in his voice.

“Okay, okay... well I bet it’s right around here somewhere,” he said a little awkwardly, getting down on his knees. He began searching through the grass for the necklace, in the opposite direction from Hibiscus, pointedly ignoring the other while unease simmered in his guts.

Hibiscus never snapped at anyone like that. Even when he got angry, he usually took a firm tone, but not... snappy.

Boy, maybe he hit his head on the way down.

Neither of them spoke for what felt like a long time, leaves rustling as they looked around. Sprite hissed in pain when he accidentally stuck his hand into some thorns, but nothing was comparing to the racket Hibiscus was making a little ways away, tearing frantically through the leaf litter.

Sprite had seen the chain around Hibiscus’s necklace before: he’d never seen him take it off in fact. But he didn’t really know what it looked like aside from the chain, whether it had any charms or a pendant, different colors or anything on it.

And he sure wasn’t having any luck finding it.

After what was a solid fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, Sprite decided that some defining features would help. He glanced over at where Hibiscus was searching, and opened his mouth to ask what the necklace looked like.

But the words died in his throat, and he stared in shock.

Tears were dripping down Hibiscus’s cheeks as he pawed around the leaf litter, eyes wide and movements frantic. Sprite continued to stare, and felt a sharp wave of uncomfortableness roll over him as he watched more tears fall down his face.

Nayru preserve him, he was terrible at emotions.

“...Hib?”

Hibiscus paused in his frantic search, mopping a sleeve over his face. He looked over at him, eyes glassy, and Sprite hesitated.

“This is really important, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

Hibiscus swallowed thickly, and nodded, looking away.

“Sprite I can’t lose this necklace,” he whispered. “It’s all I... it would be like you losing your ocarina, I just can’t.”

“Okay,” Sprite said softly, and went back to looking, much more determined now.

If this was as important to Hibiscus as his ocarina was to him, he’d search with him all day if he had to.

Sprite slowly worked his way closer to the bottom of the cliff where they’d fallen, searching for any kind of sparkle or glint of the chain. Hibiscus had gone in the other direction, deeper into the bushes, and as Sprite looked around in the dirt, he absently thought through all of his items, wishing one of them could help. Too bad Gloam isn’t here, he’d sniff it out in seconds.

He was about to give up and go look in Hibiscus’s direction again when something shone in the corner of his eye. Sprite jogged over to it, and smiled at the sight of the necklace caught in a bush.

He began to untangle it, studying the thing as he worked. The slender chain was the same as he remembered, but a small wooden ring hung on the end of it, lightly enchanted not to break he could tell. There were a few designs carved around it, nothing fancy, but obviously made with a lot of care.

Sprite carefully tugged it loose, and cradled it in his hands.

“I think I found it Hib!” he called, and the other hero nearly tripped in his haste to reach his side, reaching for the necklace as soon as he saw Sprite holding it.

He looked it over frantically, running a shaky thumb over the tiny carvings, turning it over in his hands several times. Then he held it close, eyes shut tightly as he breathed out a shaky breath.

“Yeah. This is it. Thank you Sprite.”

“No problem,” he muttered a little awkwardly.

He shuffled his feet as Hibiscus put the necklace securely into his pouch, running a thumb along the wood one last time before setting it away.

“Sorry about... freaking out,” Hibiscus said in a quiet voice. He breathed out a little shakily, and rubbed his eyes, subtly trying to remove the moisture from his cheeks. “That ring means a lot to me.”

“Yeah... I kinda figured. Where’d you get it?” Sprite asked curiously. “Did someone make it for you?”

Hibiscus was silent a moment, a strange emotion shining in his eyes. Then he turned away, walking back towards the cliff.

“Yeah. Someone did. Come on, we need to get back to the others.”

Sprite watched him go for a few moments, blinking in confusion. That was it? Just a quick brush-off? He wasn’t going to get any explanation?

He huffed out a sigh, then followed Hibiscus, several questions burning on the tip of his tongue. But he didn’t ask them.

They finally burst into the sealed temple, and Cloud looked around the room, his breath leaving him as he met the startled eyes of his wife.

Who was tied up and had a blade held to her neck.

“Link!” Zelda gasped as he looked at her, shock and relief in her voice. “Link you’re okay, I—”

“Silence,” the yiga holding his weapon to her neck growled. He turned to the other soldiers next to him, and began whispering, but still loud enough that the heroes could hear him. “We have what we came for. Get her out of here before the heroes interfe—“

Slate shot an arrow directly through the man’s wrist before he even finished speaking.

The soldier yelled and the heroes surged forward, a wave of yiga meeting them. The entire room broke into a fight, the whistle of arrows a background to the sharp clashing of swords as Cloud leapt into the fray. He tried to see where Zelda was, but there were too many people in his way, too many enemies blocking him. So Cloud continued to slowly work his way over to where he’d last seen her, trying to steady the fear in his chest.

He tried to help any of the other Links he passed in the fights they were engaged in, but every single one of them waved him forward, yelling that he needed to get to Zelda. Even the ones that were obviously struggling.

And then a cry suddenly cut through all the other noises echoing in the temple, the sound thick with pain.

Cloud felt his heart stop.

He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

He burst into entirely reckless moves, shoving his way past anyone who tried to stop him. He refused to let himself be deterred, steps speeding even faster towards where he’d last seen his wife. Another cry rang out, but it was a child’s voice this time, and Cloud saw Era snap his head up in a panicked way from across the room.

A blademaster jumped into front of him, but Cloud only took a few seconds to take him down, hacking at the cultist with little remorse. The man disappeared in a flurry of paper, and Cloud finally came into view of Zelda.

Who was lying prone on the ground, Sprite fallen beside her.

Cloud felt his stomach drop out, and he bolted to their sides, falling to his knees and pulling Zelda up into his arms. The clothes she’d been wearing had an ugly red stain beginning to spread across them, and Cloud felt ice clench around his heart.

“Zelda,” he said frantically, cupping her cheek as she breathed in a pained breath. “Zelda how bad is it?”

“I-It’s okay,” she breathed, clutching his hand when it slipped into hers. “It’s okay, it’s not too...”

She trailed off and looked over at Sprite, watching as Era ran to his side and began frantically digging in his pack.

“He saved me,” Zelda said softly, looking back at Cloud. “He jumped... in front of me after I was hit, I would... would have been hit again if he h-hadn’t...”

“Zelda, easy, just breathe, please,” Cloud murmured, trying to keep his panic down. “We need a fairy over here!” he cried as loudly as he could.

“Make that two,” Era said from nearby, voice tense as he ran a soothing hand through Sprite’s hair. The smaller hero flinched, and Era’s face went even darker. “Hibiscus! Get over here, we need you!”

The Hero of Legend joined them a few moments later, looking harried as he dodged an arrow.

“Sorry, Brownie’s unconscious and Windy got nicked with an arrow, and I was trying to fight— sweet Nayru,” he gasped, looking between Cloud and Era. He dropped down between them, doing a quick look over Zelda before doing the same to Sprite.

“What happened?” he asked in dismay, and Zelda shifted a little where Cloud was holding her.

“Those men decided if they... couldn’t have me, then nobody could...” she said in a slightly strained voice, and Cloud held her more tightly. “Took me by surprise... and after I was... hit, they were g-going to finish me, but your friend tried to fight them off... and took a h-hit meant for me...”

Hibiscus dug through his pack as Zelda explained, but his face grew dark as his search for supplies came up empty. He yelled behind him if anyone had a fairy, and Cloud dragged his gaze away from Zelda for just a second.

The fight around them was winding down, most of the yiga fleeing the scene once they realized their plan had been foiled. A few stubborn ones were still fighting, but Slate’s arrows were doing a good job of picking them off, and any hero that wasn’t dealing with an injury or a fight was digging through their bags.

The last soldier disappeared a few moments later, and the heroes clustered around Zelda and Sprite, faces horrified as they realized what had happened.

Hibiscus went around to check for healing supplies, seeing what everyone had left, but it didn’t take him long. When he returned, all he had cupped in his hand was a single bottled fairy. Cloud and Era stared, and Hibiscus shook his head.

“This is all we have,” he said quietly.

The room was silent for a few long moments, and then Cloud snapped his head back at where the Links were watching the scene unfold in horror.

“Sometimes there’s fairies in the woods in the back, you might be able to find one, go,” he snapped.

Almost everyone bolted out the back of the temple, and Cloud was left to look between Zelda and Sprite, both rasping weakly for breath.

“You’ll be fine Zelda,” Cloud murmured, pressing a kiss to her hand, ignoring the bit of blood on her fingers. “You’ll be okay. They’ll find another fairy and you’ll both be fine.”

“Link...” Zelda said quietly, and he met her eyes. “Give... give the fairy to hi...”

Zelda breathed in a gasp and stiffened, screwing her eyes shut before dragging them back open.

“Give... give it to him,” she bit out.

“No.”

Cloud and Zelda both looked at Sprite, curled in on himself in Era’s arms as a steadily growing stain of red spread out across his tunic.

“Don’t...” Sprite whispered, then shuddered a bit. “Let Ze... have her...”

His eyes flickered, but he forced them open, sucking in a shaking breath.

“Give her the fairy,” he whispered.

Cloud stared at him in dismay. “Sprite we can’t just...”

“You know one fairy won’t b-be... enough for us both...” Sprite murmured, his voice still tight with pain. “Let Z-Zelda... have her.”

“We can’t just let you die,” Cloud whispered, and Sprite smirked, then coughed.

“‘M not gonna die,” he whispered, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. “Give it ‘t her.”

“No, we can wait a few more minutes, okay?” Era said sharply, still putting pressure on the wound. “Give the others some time to find another fairy, you’ll both be fine. We don’t need to choose.”

“Don’t have time...” Sprite whispered, closing his eyes. “She needs it more.”

“He does,” Zelda stressed, meeting Cloud’s eyes again. “Link he’s...”

“You both need it!” Cloud shouted, and knew his hands were shaking as he squeezed Zelda’s. “And the fairy won’t be enough for both of you, we can’t...”

Zelda smiled at him just a little, and Cloud looked at her through the tears that were starting to gather in the corner of his eyes.

“Please Zelda, hold on,” he whispered. “Hold on for me, please, I can’t lose you again.”

She didn’t respond other than squeezing his hand, and the room went quiet.

Cloud looked over at Era, equally frantic but hiding it better as he cradled Sprite tightly in his arms. He was holding a cloth to the injury Sprite had sustained, and Cloud looked down at the younger hero, looking unusually small in Era’s hold.

Sprite looked back at him, meeting his eyes as blood trickled down his face, and the younger boy gave him a rare smile.

“You won’t,” he whispered.

Then Sprite snatched the bottled fairy off of the ground, popping the cork and throwing the bottle to land right next to Zelda.

“Sprite!” Era cried out, the fairy flitting from the bottle and immediately spinning around her.

Pink sparkles drifted across Zelda’s middle, the little fairy spinning in rather tight circles as she healed the injury below. Zelda let out a small sigh of relief as she finished, and the fairy jingled weakly, obviously exhausted as she fluttered away. Zelda then sat up a little in Cloud’s arms, and he felt relief hit him at the sight of her bright blue eyes, looking tired, but no longer in any sort of pain.

But his relief was short-lived as he looked over at Era and Sprite.

Throwing the bottle had obviously used the last of the younger’s strength, and he’d fallen limp in Era’s arms, eyes closed.

“Sprite,” Era said in a frantic voice, any steel he’d conjured up rapidly disappearing. “Sprite, don’t do this to me, stay awake.”

Cloud felt a sharp wave of grief hit him as Era clutched at Sprite, the normally vibrant boy in his arms lying eerily still. A small breath wheezed through his lips, but that was the only sign he was still alive at all, blood still leaking from his side.

“Wait,” Zelda said softly, and Cloud looked back at her, a light shining in her eyes.

Zelda reached out towards Sprite, faint light flickering around her fingertips and a glow in her eyes, and Cloud was suddenly reminded that his wife wasn’t exactly mortal.

He quickly helped her move closer to Sprite, and she took his small hand in her own, Era watching with tired acceptance already in his eyes. The light grew just a little as Zelda’s brow creased, and Cloud and Era stayed silent, not wanting to break her concentration.

After several agonizingly long moments, she finally drew back, a smile on her lips.

“I bought him some time,” Zelda said softly, her eyelids drooping. “Not much, but enough... for the others to find another fairy. He’ll be okay until then.”

She let out an exhausted sigh, and Cloud drew her into an embrace, leftover terror at what they’d almost lost making him feel dizzy.

“Thank you,” Era said, voice filled with utter relief. Sprite twitched just a little in his arms, and Era closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. “Thank you so much.”

Zelda nodded at him, then looked back over at Cloud, relief in her gaze.

“You had me worried sick sleepyhead,” she said with a smile, and Cloud finally kissed her, entirely uncaring of who was watching.

They drew back after what didn’t feel nearly long enough, and Cloud gently pressed his forehead against hers, their hands clasped.

“I’m so sorry,“ he whispered. “If it had been up to me I never would have left.”

“I know it wasn’t your fault, I could sense dark magic around the day you disappeared,” she replied softly, squeezing his hands. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I missed you, Link.”

Cloud held her close, breathing in her perfume and ignoring the smell of blood that still tinged the air, ignoring how close she and Sprite had been to dying, and ignoring the terror that still lingered in his heart that he’d been too late.