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Since Digger is one of the older Links (nearing 30) and has a masculine body shape for a Hylian, his old Gerudo outfit doesnât let him sneak into Gerudo Town anymore! Instead he wears this with a face scarf, in order to cover up his lack of curves in all the right places. He doesnât speak in Gerudo Town either: his voice is somewhat gruff, so he can only use Hylian sign to communicate.Â
Digger is one of the Linksonas from the #LinksonapartAU! Check out the others in the tag~
Happy birthday @skenandj, hereâs a short fic with Digger and Fireball to celebrate, because your other requested fics are beyond my current ability. #LinksonaFic
The sun was warm on their faces, the wind in their hair and below them was a vast stretch of nothingness that faded to misty greys. And in front of them, getting ever closer, the green wilderness beyond Hyrule.
âThis,â Digger shouted as the warning pings of Stasis got louder and more urgent, âis a terrible idea!â
âYeah!â Fireballâs grin mirrored Diggerâs own. The two of them gripped the minecart and each other as they prepared for launch. Whenever they were going, they intended to go together.
The next moment was a blur or speed and sound as they shot into the air. The red rock of the Badlands fell away and the distant cliffs of the land unknown race towards them. The sun was warm on their faces, the wind in their hair and below them was a vast stretch of nothingness that faded to misty greys. And in front of them, getting ever closer, the green wilderness beyond Hyrule.
Then they began to drop.
âAw,â Fireball said as the minecart started its plummet to certain destruction.
Digger shrugged. Holding up his thumb and forefinger as the wind began to whip his hair upwards, he told Fireball, âWe were literally this close.â
âDefinitely,â Fireball replied as the minecart fell away from them so that they were sitting on air.
âMaybe next time?â Digger asked as they tumbled into freefall.
âMaybe?â Fireball laughed, his voice cutting through the howling of the wind. âYou mean certainly.â
âCertainly!â Digger agreed, unhitching his Sheikah Slate. Theyâd fallen so far now that the sun couldnât reach them. While Fireball would have no such troubles, Digger found the chill of the shadows and rushing air rather uncomfortable. He opened his map, squinting at the glowing shrines that dotted it. âUh. Where were we meetinâ up again?â
Fireball, now upside-down, shrugged. âDunno.â
Digger was sure theyâd discussed it. Or at least discussed the intention of discussing it. Selecting a shrine at random, he said, âSee ya there!â
âYou bet!â Fireball answered before the world disappeared into blue.
The Neâez Yohma was, as always, a bastion of calm. The rippling reflections of the water across the ceiling. The gently swaying lotus seeds as the flowers floated serenely. The distant rumble of the waterfalls.
Digger pitched forward as someone slapped him on the back, almost sending him face-first into the water. Crabs scuttled away in fright as Fireball yelled, âWOOHOO, THAT WAS AWESOME!â
âBloody hell ya bastard, I think ya fractured my spine,â Digger said, laughing.
Fireball grinned. âSorry.â
âNo worries; I ainât need a spine when I have you tâsupport me, big guy.â They both laughed at that, laughed until there were tears in their eyes, until their hearts stopped racing and the adrenaline finally faded from their veins. Then Bazz had come running to see what the commotion was about. The expression the guard made when he saw who had arrived in Zoraâs Domain made them burst out laughing again, all while being firmly but politely escorted out.
As they walked across the Great Zora Bridge, Fireball shook his head and did a surprisingly good impression of Muzu as he said, âThe two of you are bad influences for the young ones!â
Wheezing, Digger said, âYa think he means Prince Sidon?â
âItâs not our fault heâs too tall for shield surfing. We couldnât have known that if we hadnât tried.â
âImpeccable logic ya got there.â They were leaning on each other for support. Digger could barely breathe from laughing; Fireball had a hand on his aching stomach. Together they tottered across the bridge, plotting out impossible schemes and reckless stunts, charting a course for the impossible.
Because when Fireball said it, it didnât sound impossible at all.
Digger, Fireball (@skenandj), Momo (@cockismybusiness) and Catfish (@obernatos) in yet another #LinksonaFicÂ
âItâs a silver hinox, what do you expect?â Catfish punched the rock. âFucker just wonât die.â
Another explosion sent a rumble through the ground. A gust of hot air blasted them. As their hearing slowly returned they heard roaring and mad laughter.
âDâya really think itâs alright to leave âim out there?â Digger asked, although he wasnât concerned enough to risk peering over the rock theyâd huddled behind.
âYou said you wanted a distraction,â Catfish answered.
Momo nodded. âCouldnât have picked anyone better! Besides, he sounds like heâs having fun!â
Worse come to worst, it would only be another reset. And if any of them wouldnât mind being burned to a crisp, itâd be him⌠Digger shook his head. Every second he left a man fighting alone made his heart beat quicker, twisting in his chest as old guilts threatened to rear their ugly heads. âWe need a plan. Fast. Bomb arrows?â
âIf I had them, I would have used them,â Catfish growled.
âMy bow broke!â Momo added.
Digger sighed. He absently rubbed the jade ring on his finger. Things will work out. âIâve got a few shockos, but theyâre like tickles to tâbastard.â
âItâs a silver hinox, what do you expect?â Catfish punched the rock. âFucker just wonât die.â
âMaybe we can force its eye open and then Stasis it-â
âItsât forcinâ part that weâre stuck on,â Digger pointed out. âWâneed enough damage to drop âis hand, then we hafta open that damn eye. Tâstompinâ means we canât get close to him, otherwise-â
Thereâs a cry of pain that quickly gets louder as Fireball flies through the air to bounce off a tree and land in a heap in front of them, smouldering slightly.
â-otherwise, that happens,â Digger finished. âWell timeâs up, boys. Looks like weâre goinâ with my plan.â
âWhatâs your plan?â Catfish asked with trepidation, while Momo punched the air in a welcome display of enthusiasm.
Digger grinned. âIâm thinkinâ of it.â
âDown here, ugly!â
The hinox turned to the little Hylian in his strange squeaky skin. He was holding a bow, but that didnât bother the hinox. Almost mockingly slowly it raised its warty hand to cover its most vulnerable part â even if the Hylian had fired it wouldnât have mattered, as its eye was already protected by a thick, clear lid.
Which was why it didnât see the boomerang fly towards it. The hinox roared in pain as the weapon sliced deep gashes in his skin. It pulled its hand away instinctively. There was a twang. Three shock arrows found their mark. Its eyelid protected the monster from almost all of the damage, although the yellow light left it temporarily blinded.
Which was why it didnât see Digger, jumping into the air and flipping onto his shield. It didnât see Momo swing his hammer, catch the shield as it soared overhead, and send it flying. Didnât see Digger leap, boomerang back in hand, ready to strike.
The hinox heard him, though.
âFrom Fireball, with interest!â
The boomerangâs blade, with all if Diggerâs weight behind it, dug through the lid and into the soft eyeball beneath. The hinox staggered backwards. Digger kicked off, pulling the boomerang out so that the hinoxâs eye juices ran freely down its face. It screamed and flailed. Its unarmoured belly lay exposed.
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Although Digger and Bittersweet are very much in love, their relationship went through its ups and downs. Luckily, they stuck through it. #LinksonaFic
A music box usually isnât very heavy, but this particular one weighed heavily on Digger for a while.Â
Bittersweet tapped him on the shoulder one day, as Digger finished cleaning the drawers they kept their surplus clothing in. Digger turned, smiling. He didnât smile when he saw what Bittersweet held in his hands.
âOh, that? Just put it back where ya found it,â he told the man. The drawers were already free of any dust, but Digger kept wiping the wood, the rag leaving damp circles that quickly faded to nothingness.
Bittersweet tapped his shoulder again. He placed the music box on a windowsill and said, âI found it behind the books and things youâve gotten from the villagers. You couldnât even see it on the shelf.â
âPut it back where ya found it,â Digger repeated. âExactly as you found it. Hey, itâs getting late, maybe ya wonât mind seeing whatâs fer sale at the market?â
Digger kept idly dragging the rag across the drawers until he heard the front door close. Then he threw himself into frenzied cleaning, moping and dusting and scrubbing until his arms ached. Yet even with the ruckus, he still heard the song.
âWhen did you buy it?â Sweets asked. âWeâve barely been back.â
Heâd gestured towards the corner of the shelf that Digger kept cluttered. Digger smiled. âWhat do you mean?â
âThe pretty box. With the golden stick and the emeralds.â
Sweets had always had a knack for knowing when he lied. He doesnât comment.
Although, Digger thinks, he hadnât lied at all.
The glow of the radiant armour made it impossible to sneak around at night. The bokoblins had seen them â or rather, seen Digger â from afar and charged, the five of them shrieking as they waved their weapons overhead. It hadnât been a fair fight.
After all, they hadnât realised that there were two chosen heroes running around.
Digger swirled the last of the hearty elixir around in its bottle. âYa sure ya donât need any more, Peaches?â
The newcomer shook his head empathetically, his bangs swaying with the movement. Digger had called him Peaches for his bubbliness, for the way heâd bounced from monster to monster so confidently, a smile on his face. Considering the situation, his cheerfulness was borderline unnatural.
Or perhaps that was because Digger missed another; one who wore the same face but never spoke a word, who fought with caution and a dancerâs grace, whose smile was soft and small and sweet.
Digger shrugged and downed the last of the elixir. He made a face at the bitter taste of it on his tongue. Still, it restored his strength, allowing him to push himself to his feet and stretch. âNot much further now, Peaches. Monsters in this world are freaky strong, so itâs best we donât linger.â
His companion nodded. âBut⌠you know⌠with the clothes youâre wearingâŚâ
Digger winced. It was true. âRight. Give me a moment, will ya? See to tâhorses. Thereâs an apple tree somewhere back thereâŚâ
âPeachesâ nodded and headed towards the copse of trees theyâd passed earlier. Digger took his Sheikah Slate from his belt and flicked through the options to find a more appropriate outfit for night travel.
But he was too hasty and found himself staring at the last menu of the Slate. And he found his eyes drawn to the last slot, to that little gold-and-white box sitting so innocently on the screen.
âPeachesâ returned to find Digger in an outfit of red and blue and gold, white gloves on his hands and white boots on his feet. Itâs still a flashy outfit. Despite the gashes and the missing patch in the cap. He doesnât comment on it.
They mounted the horses that the bokoblins had so kindly brought to them and set off underneath the light of the red moon. The voice that Digger had come to expect during these nights was, as always, silent. Instead, he heard the song.
The last note faded away like mist in the morning. Sweets let out a quiet sigh. Digger smiled. âBeautiful, ainât it? Do ya know the song?â
Sweets shook his head. Digger wondered if heâd never heard it, if maybe it hadnât existed in âhisâ Hyrule. Digger closed his eyes and leaned back against the trunk of the palm. Here, the air smelled of the ocean. In the evening it smelled of fish and spice, in the day of baked sand as the sun glared down bright and warm. But in the still hours of dawn when only the slightest suggestion of light peered out from behind the grey horizon the air was fresh and clean. To Digger, it smelled of peace. Perhaps that was a maudlin thought, but he breathed it in, the morning air of sea and dew and the scent of Sweets beside him.
And he began to sing.
By the third verse, Sweetsâ hand reached out to his. He laced his fingers against Diggerâs. His touch was so very warm.
By the fifth heâd shuffled close, so he could rest his head on Diggerâs shoulder. His hair brushed against Diggerâs face, tickling his scar on his cheek.
By the final verse he was running the fingers of his other hand through Diggerâs hair, just the way he knew Digger liked it. When Digger opened his eyes he saw exactly what heâd expected.
âThereâs no need for tears, Sweets,â he murmured, brushing them away with a callused thumb. âI ainât that pretty a songbird.â
âDid she give it to you?â Sweets asked. The pain in his eyes hurt. The shadow of acceptance there was agony.
Digger shook his head. âWrong way around. Do ya know what the songâs about?â
âLove.â
âThereâs many kinds of love.â Dawn was well and truly on its way now. The sky blushed pink over the sea, as if the sun was a loverâs touch. Digger pulled Sweets close and his husband tucked his head beneath Diggerâs chin, bending is head so that he could listen to Diggerâs heartbeat. Watching the dawn, Digger explained, âIt tells of a woman ransoming her love for impossible tasks. A shirt without seams, land atop the waves, reaping a harvest with leather⌠itâs a very pretty way of saying ânoâ, I suppose. Just enough hope to keep a man trying.â
Sweets squeezed his hand. Â
Digger idly turned the music boxâs handle. âI found it on top of my Sheikah Slate. I thought the rest of ya did too, thought ya just didnât want tâmention it. Not sure when I realised I was the only one. I didnât remember why it was important when I first saw it. But I felt it. I remember looking at it and feeling the first⌠first real emotion since waking up. I was confused and scared and alone âcept for her voice. But when I saw this, that was when I first⌠got a glimpse of who I was.â
His husband lifted his head then, watching Digger warily. âWhat do you mean?â
Digger laughed. âThe moment I picked it up I felt so sad. Just angry and disappointed, and I knew it wasnât because of the Calamity. When I heard the song the words came back to me. I was crying before I even found my clothes. And I didnât know why.â
âDid you ever find out?â
âYeah. In the Coliseum ruins, right after I killed the lynel at the bottom. That moment when I stood there, its blood still on my sword, it came back to me. The crowds, cheering. The banners. And her. She wasâŚâ Digger couldnât stop the smile on his face, at the memory of a memory. ââŚradiant.â
Sweets recoiled then, but Digger reached out to grab his wrist. He kept his grip gentle, rubbing soothing circles over the sensitive skin there. The manâs face is softer than Diggerâs own and unmarred, his skin paler. And his eyes were softer too. There was so much warmth, so much kindness in that gaze. So much patience.
He gives and gives. Everything I ask for. Even the things I havenât. That brings a smile to Diggerâs lips. And then suddenly he canât look at Sweets anymore; here in the light of the rising sun with the sea breeze ruffling his hair, his cheeks rosy from the morning chill, his beauty is dazzling. It brings tears to Diggerâs eyes.
Soft hands wipe away his tears. Itâs Diggerâs turn to lean into his touch, to guide his hands around him so that Digger can murmur his next words against his belovedâs chest, right above his heartbeat. âBefore the Calamity, the kingdom was magnificent. The Hylians, they⌠we had so much. Feasts and festivals and temples and cities. Gardens full of fountains and so many flowers, every single flower in Hyrule. Thereâs dishes I donât even know the name of any more, I just remember the smells and the colours and the taste. And there were the knights. The tourneys, the jousts. Archery contests. Horseback races. Duels and melees and even fights against monsters captured from the wild.â
Digger couldnât stop the sob that wracked his body, the way his voice broke as he continued, âThe cheering. I remember the cheering. The way people looked at me and saw⌠hope. Honour. A hero. That memory⌠if Iâd known what it would do to me Iâd have never gone there.â
Sweets pulled away the tie that bound his messy hair together. Silently, he begins to work, brushing out the strands, separating them into workable sections.
âI donât remember all of it. But I know why I was there. I⌠I think I proposed to her the moment I came of age, the day I was made a true knight. It was a stupid thing to do. Iâm pretty sure weâre all older than her, in every world.â
Sweets started on the first braid. He worked with a steady rhythm, slender fingers guiding the strands in their dance, over and under and around.
âAnd she told me that sheâd accept when Iâd become the champion of every important tourney and festival of the year, sheâd accept.â
There was nothing to hold the braid in place with, so when he was done, Sweets simply let it fall back against Diggerâs face. It started to unwind almost immediately, but by the time itâd twisted apart he was halfway done with the next one.
âI donât think she expected me to get anywhere close. And I didnât, for a few years. Maybe sheâd thought Iâd give up. Guess she didnât know me very well, eh?â
The braids didnât unwind completely. They held together at the top, so that the three strands of hair remained curled loosely against each other. Undone, but not entirely, still carrying the suggestion of what had been.
âBut then one year I won them all. Travelled all over Hyrule, showed up wherever contests of skill and strength took place. The Coliseum. The last challenge of the year, a major celebration. The royal family was there. The entire time she watched me. That was all I remember caring about â that she was watching. Now thoughâŚ. I wonder what she was thinking. I wish Iâd wondered back then. I wish Iâd asked her.â
The music box, ornate gold against white porcelain and studded with emeralds, weighs against his palm. Itâs cold against his skin, having drunk in the chill of the morning. It leeches the warmth from his skin, sharp corners digging into his flesh.
âI didnât, though. And Iâd had this made, to give to her after I won. This song. I wonder why I chose it.â Digger shifted so he could look up at Sweets, who paused in his work. âDid you know, I had to fight my own father? I donât even remember his face, but I remember I had to fight him. The feeling of it. That feltâŚâ
The silence grew deeper as the day grew lighter, until eventually Sweets gives his bare shoulders a squeeze.
âYeah. I guess afterwards I won. I gave the music box to her. And she told me she couldnât, couldnât let love distract her, not when she still didnât know how to stop Ganon. Afterwards, sheâd said. And thatâs all I remember. Afterwards.â
Digger looked at the trinket in his hand and wondered, then, whoâd been the one to truly ask for the impossible.
Sweets tapped his shoulder. The sun had cleared the horizon then, its light bringing out the deep, true gold of his hair, the smoothness of his shoulders, the brilliant blue of his eyes. Smiling, Sweets told him: