#fluffics

Snuggle Buggle

When they get a chance to rest inside of an inn, especially on a cold day, there was a tendency of the entire group to do one thing in particular: dogpile Time.

Because Time was the only person who, one-hundred percent, needed to sleep on a bed. There was a reason that legend called their leader ‘Old Man’ and the snap, crackle, pop of the man’s joints and back every day was part of that. So, whenever they came to a place that had beds, it was rule that Time got one of, if not the only, bed.

Not that it really mattered if there was only one bed, somehow everyone ended up sleeping on it anyways.

Malon was made aware of this the second time that the boys had come to Lon Lon Ranch, and she wasn’t sure if she was irritated by it, endeared by it, or just plain loved it.

It started at around eleven in the evening. She and Time had gone to sleep an hour before or thereabouts and she was sleeping rather well when some sort of noise woke her up. It wasn’t a scream or the sound of something breaking, or one of the animals panicking or anything overly worrying, so she would have gone to sleep again, would have simply tucker herself tighter against her husband’s chest and let herself fall back asleep, but her wonderful pillow was stirring, pulling himself up because Link was a bothersome worried sort who couldn’t rest easy no matter where he slept. Irritation bloomed in her chest and she was just reaching up to grab his nightshirt and pull him back down onto the bed that was quickly becoming too cold with the draft he was letting in by sitting up, but then his voice startled her to stillness.

“Is everything alright?” Link’s voice was thick with sleep, very nearly a growl, but yet to soft to be truly angry.

She would have protested at that, of course things weren’t alright, he was letting all the heat out, but then she recognized the stream of light cast across Link’s face and the soft sound of shuffling feet near the doorway.

Curiosity won over irritation, and she turned in the bed to find herself staring at the shivering smallest hero, his arms holding his blanket around him as he blinked wearily. “’s cold.”

Link nodded, understanding, and then the blankets were being lifted and there was a wave of cold sweeping down to her toes. “Climb up then, quickly though, Malon can be a bear when she gets chilly at night.”

The teen looked at her awkwardly as if unsure about disturbing her yet somehow failing to recognize that he’d already done so. He33 was half asleep, she realized, or very much lost in his head, otherwise she knew the perceptive lad would have already thought about how coming to Link’s and her room would automatically disturb the both of them.

“Hop up.” Se patted the bed with a weary yawn. “You’re letting a draft in, luv.”

Her words were all that was needed, and then there was a small body climbing up onto the bed and she was tugging him in between herself and Link, ignoring how tiny icicle fingers sent shivers up her arms in favor of smothering the shivering smithy in a warm hug and enjoying the way that Link’s strong arms pulled the both of them closer to him.

It didn’t take long before soft snores were erupting from between them, warm breath tickling her chin as an even warmer feeling sparked in her breast. There was enough time to offer her husband a drowsy smile and take in his own fond one before she faded away again, arms wrapped tightly around the young one in her arms with her husband’s arms right around them both.

She got woken up again by the same sound, and when she blinked awake again, she was able to recognize that it was the sound of the bedroom door opening. This time at least when Link sits up, there’s a buffer between her and the cold, although said buffer shivers slightly at the cold that sneaks in beneath the sheets, but Link doesn’t even bother asking what the matter is, she only feels the bed shifting as he moves around, and when she blinks one eye open it’s to see Hyrule climbing up next to her husband and cuddling up next to him with a soft snore that earns the boy a warm smile as Link runs a hand through dark curls.

“He sleepwalks.” He rumbles, and she can only nod softly as he settles down again, warmth once more joining them beneath the covers.

Somehow, she thought that would be the end of it, but then Wild and Wind both follow after in succession, and she has the youngest starfished across the both of them and Wild curled up at their feet where only a short while later a hug wolf joins them all on the bed, wrapping itself around the long-haired teen like a furry blanket. For that reason, it’s not really that much of a surprise when Sky comes lumbering in, dragging a half-asleep Legend behind him. It’s endearing, even if the bed is beginning to feel a bit small, to see them all half asleep and yawning their heads off. In fact, she rather doubts that Sky even is awake, and Legend is either asleep or very much lost to the world, because the teen is surprisingly clingy with his brother, and makes a soft and happy squeaking sound when Link maneuvers him to lay alongside Hyrule, both boys latching ahold of each other and burying their noses in the others’ hair or clothes. Sky, in turn, flops over the edge of the bed, practically falls, feet still hanging off until Link pulls him up alongside everyone else, Hyrule and Legend on top of him beside her husband, leaving just enough room for him to lay down again and pull her and Four even closer.

With seven boys in the bed, curled up and around herself and her husband, she no longer feels the cold, although the weight is rather unfamiliar. Still, it’s comfortable enough, but she still lies waiting for the final shoe to drop, and when there’s a creak of the door, she glances up with a yawn to see Warriors staring into the room with a knowing smile on his face and warmth in his eyes as he leans against the frame.

“Again?” The captain chuckles, somehow perfectly put together despite the late hour.

She doesn’t bother letting anyone chatter, instead pulling Link closer and freeing up just a bit of space at the edge of the bed for the beanpole of a young man. “Up you get, I’m tired.”

Royal blue eyes blink at her in surprise, but then Link is grumbling something or other and the captain is shaking his head and moving over, climbing up beside Sky with a soft whisper about the perimeter being safe or something of the sort, which she quickly silences with a soft hiss as she buries her face in golden hair and tries to avoid letting Wind’s fingers brush over her face.

It’s only a short while later that a melodic hum fills the air, from whom she doesn’t know, but a few others echo it, all in their sleep. She glances at Link, and he stares back, trembling slightly with pent up laughter as the two of them both fight not to start laughing at the absurdity of it all. At least the tune is soothing, and before she knows it, Malon is dozing off with all nine of her boys curled up around her.

Come morning, there’s a round of complaints and confusion as everyone comes to themselves when she forces herself out of her warm cocoon to go milk the cows, effectively waking everyone by disturbing the pile. She leaves the room and the boys to her husband’s care, the hero of legend trailing after her with a very wide and very squeaky yawn as he offers to help with the cows. It’s clear he knows what he’s doing, and she’s done before her usual time that morning, walking back up to the house with the pink-haired teen and buckets of milk just in time to see Warriors teasing Twilight.

“You missed the cuddle fest.” The captain yawns around a cup of coffee, strong bitter stuff that she would almost scold him for brewing in her house if she didn’t know it was the only thing to help him stay awake.

When he and Malon have kids, he hopes they don't have this many.

Nayru knows he loves his boys, but they can get a bit much sometimes. They can get loud and overwhelming, and as a man who’s used to traveling primarily alone, with maybe a fairy trailing behind him or his trusted mount, it’s a bit overwhelming. He’s not used to being around people so much, Malon and Talon are his only consistent company and even then, the work they share means that often times it’s only him and his thoughts as he mucks, mends and tends things around the ranch.

Sometimes, when the boys get especially rowdy and playful, it’s just nice to get a moment of quiet to himself. Between Sky and Twilight he knows that nothing overly chaotic will go down, and he trusts the boys to keep each other in check.

So, when they come to the Pup’s Hyrule, their battle in this world over and most of their number restless as they wait for the next portal to arrive and whisk them away, Time allows his boys their space, and with a quick exchange with the only two he can trust to not burn something down (at least while the younger ones can still see them) he heads off into the forest to get a little space to himself.

Of course, he can’t really go far, not if he needs to hurry back, but he doesn’t really need to. His destination is Lake Hylia, which is only a short distance from their camp, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, and, when he gets there, he allows himself to actually breathe for once.

Wild, Warriors and Wind had been locked in a game of cards when last he left, the champion soundly beating the other two both at cribbage while Wars bemoans his poor luck, and Twilight and Sky were discussing wood carving with Hyrule, with the occasional comment from the smithy, who is only too happy to throw in something related every so often as he looks up from his book. That leaves himself and Legend, and he’s long since learned that the vet was one to disappear for his own space when possible.

He’s not overly worried. Legend has items and experience that far outmatch most of their group, and if he runs into trouble Time has little doubt that he’ll be able to get himself out of it to at least gather reinforcements, if not handle the issue by himself.

A deep breath of relief escapes him as the eldest of the heroes pulls a few items from his own bag. The boots are a familiar if not welcome weight as he slips out of his armor and dons the tunic and cap of the Zora, his breath bubbling softly as he steps into the lake before him with a contented sigh.

The cool water floods over the top of him, tugging at his hair and bubbling in his lungs, but it’s doesn’t burn the way that it should. He breathes easily beneath the rippling surface of Lake Hylia, the Zora tunic granting him freedom beneath the waves.

There is little sound beneath, only the muffled noise from above the surface, the flow of the water and-

Time’s ears prick forwards as a single blue eye turns to search the space around him.

Someone is singing.

It’s a haunting sort of melody, one that draws you in and makes you dazed, and Time finds himself stumbling over his own feet as he searches for the source. It is not a Cursed song, nor anything powerful from what he can recall, in fact, it’s almost familiar. It sounds similar to something he hears hummed about their camp at night while the boys take watch. He’d never been able to place which of the young heroes hummed the lilting melody, but he’s let it carry him off to sleep many a time before. Only this song, the one that twines about his head and whispers in his ears and makes his feet trek closer and closer to its source, this song is different, it’s haunted and Broken, and it is sung in a Voice.

Not a voice like most of those above the surface have, but a Voice like a fairy or spirit might have. One that pulls at your very soul and sings in your mind, un-hampered by wind or waves, able to carry across miles to be heard by those that it Sings too.

Heavy feet trod faster.

He’s under no spell, but he is a Link, and by now he has learned that all of their kind are blessed or cursed with courage and curiosity both, and to be without the latter is simply unthinkable for the young-at-heart hero. Something –the forest imp in him maybe- tells him to find the Voice, find the Singer.

He’s only made it part of the way across the lake, hasn’t even left the shoreline properly, when the song stops. Unease creeps over him as he looks around, alert and ready for trouble, only to see nothing but the peaceful stillness of the lake bottom around him.

There! His mind supplies as something pink flits in the corner of his vision, and he’s whipping around to come face to face with-

Long tangled hair drifts in the waves as glistening scales reflect the light pouring down through the waves. Too deep, too dark eyes stare at him in shock for a brief moment, and then-

The creature, the thing, is gone in an instant. Whipping away as it’s glimmer fades into the waves around him, speed no doubt granted by the brilliant tail of the thing sending it rocketing out of his grasp before he even has a chance to speak.

He tried to follow it. He does! But quite soon the adult part of his mind is reminding him how dangerous the thing could be, and that he still has his boys to return to back on the surface. It’s been exactly thirty-two minutes and thirteen seconds since he left them at their camp, and by now they usually would have sent someone to check and make sure that whatever member of their party had strayed off was alright.

Removing his boots is all it takes to float to the surface, despite the fact that he still holds the things in his hands, and it’s with no small amount of relief that he realizes that the bank of the lake is free of other heroes.

Time gathers his things together, wringing out his hair and clothes before returning to his normal gear and heading back to the camp.

Smiles and chuckles greet him as the young heroes tease.

“Go for a swim, Old Man?” Legend quirks a brow, staring up from his place by the fire.

Time doesn’t answer him, but he does shake his head violently enough to spray the younger heroes with water, earning shouts and shrieks from them as they try and shield themselves from the wet. “Seriously, Time?” Warriors moans, wiping lake water from his face. “What are you, a dog?”

Time smirks at the captain and, to everyone's surprise (which produces no small amount of delight for him), he barks.

“What sorts of people have you met in your adventures?” Sky asks a couple of days later, head cocked to the side as he watches his brothers. “You all talk about so many races, but I don’t think I've heard of most of them.”

“Well,” Wild smiles, there’s a glint in his gaze that isn’t quite mischief, but it’s a warning to be wary anyway, because they all know what a crack-pot their cook can be at times. “There’s Hylians, of course, and Sheikah, Yiga, Gerudo, Rito, Gorons, Zora and koroks! You’ve probably already met the Sheikah, since you mentioned knowing an Impa during your journey, and the Yiga are an offshoot of that group.”

Twilight blinks and stares, Warriors furrowing his brow as he two older heroes stare at the younger, but Wild seem entirely unaffected.

“Gerudo are a desert people. They’re really tall, and extremely strong! Most of their race have long red hair and slightly darker skin than the people around Hyrule. They are a society of all woman, with only one man being born to them every hundred years. They worship the goddess Din for the most part, and live out of an opulent city set in the desert where they specialize in the crafting of weapons and jewelry, and the farming of exotic plants.” The champion then proceeds to run down traits and knowledge about the other races, matter-of-factly, as if the details he is sharing are things that everyone from the surface knows.

“Wow.” Sky laughs as Wild finishes. “I had no idea.”

“There’s also the minish.” Four adds. “And the Wind Tribe, who are sky people, of course.”

Sky looks curious, but Four says nothing more, instead gesturing to the other heroes to share their thoughts, which they do.

“Terminans.” Time offers. “Very similar to Hylians.”

“Ordonians.” Twilight adds with a fond smile. No explanation is needed.

The others all nod along, but Legend rolls his eyes. “Humans, like, non-Hylian humans, Shifters,” The vet stares upwards with a light scowl as he ticks the races off of his fingers. “Technically they’re humans too, but Wild counted the Sheikah and Gerudo, so there’s also the Lorulians, Labrynninians, Holodrumese folks, Hytopians, Drablanders, Subrosians, Catalians-” Legend frowns. “I could swear there are more but I can’t really recall.”

Time, for whatever reason, he can’t really say why, cocks his head. “Any water people other than Zora?”

The vet snaps his fingers. “Mer-folk! Thank you, Time. I guess fae and animal folk count on that note.”

There’s a scoff and Warriors is leaning forwards with a smirk. “Fairies and animals, sure, but mer? Seriously, Legend? Have you even met a mer before?”

“Many times.” The veteran drawls, cocking a brow in the captain’s direction. “On multiple adventures. What about you, cap? Jealous you couldn’t snag one for your guild of brides?”

Warriors blusters about indignantly, earning laughter from the others as Legend smirks, but the man recovers quickly enough. “I do not have a guild of brides! That is- that is utterly disgusting!”

“Could have fooled me.” Legend teases, sipping some water from a flask.

“Give him a break.” Twilight snickers, shoving the vet playfully.

The unfortunate thing about Twilight’s shoves though is that the ranch hand doesn’t seem to know his own strength, and Legend is small enough that the light push is enough to send him scrabbling to not hit the ground. More laughter rings about their camp, but this time at the vet's expense, as Legend topples over into the dirt, spilling his drink and failing his arms as he goes.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Legend huffs, pulling himself back up and dusts off his clothes, scowling at the water spilled on him. “Great.”

“Oh, come on, you came back soaked to the skin earlier, what’s a bit of water going to hurt you, huh, vet?” Warriors ribs, smirking.

Legend shoots him a half-hearted glare.

“Legend,” Time starts slowly. “How would you describe the mer?”

The vet pauses, gaze resting maybe a moment too long as his hands as he brushes off the hem of his tunic. He’s already done so and there’s really no reason for him to do it again, but he does anyway. “What you’d expect.” He shrugs haltingly. “Hylian on top, fish beneath. Tail, long hair, that sort of thing.”

The old man hums. Legends ears twitch, nose shivering slightly as violet eyes flit over their group. “Care to expand on your sky people story, Four?”

“I’m good.” The smithy replies lazily.

Time would pass it off as a strange one-time thing, he would, but there are... other factors at play.

They’ve traveled to Four’s time, fighting off monsters and solving puzzles the same as they’ve always done. The boys are taking some downtime, playing hide and seek, and just like the last time, Time takes himself down to the river they’ve made camp ear and dons his Zora gear.

He isn’t expecting to see the creature, the mer, again, much less hear them singing -after all, this is a Hyrule far before his Pup’s- but there the creature is. It- or they- frolic in the water, chasing fish and singing softly. The tune is lighter than the last one he heard, a different song entirely, but there is no denying that it is the same mer.

Gold flecked, petal pink scales shimmer beneath the twisted lights that invade the water, hair of the same colors flowing in the current as long fingers, tipped with pointed claws, reach out to swipe at the fish swimming wildly away. They don’t catch anything, but Time hears it giggle anyways, the tune of its voice bubbling in merriment as it rolls like and otter and turns to explore some other part of the river bed.

The cursed curiosity of a hero niggles in Time’s mind. How is the same mer from before in this timeline, ages before Twilight would even be born? And why do they play and explore as if they’ve never seen this river bed before in their life?

Long claws pull through sand, and although their hair blocks their face from his view, he can still hear the warble of delight as the creature removes something sparkling and bright from the river bed. The mer floats in place, turning the item over in their hands curiously before whisking it out of sight and returning to their search.

A mer that likes treasure, huh? Why is he unsurprised?

His own soft laugh startles them, and for a half of a moment, golden ringed, violet eyes, wide and bright and full of shock, meet his own.

The mer is gone before he can make a move.

He asks Legend about it the next day. As they travel along the path towards the nearest town, Time falls back to ask the vet more about mer.

“Do mer like treasure?”

Legend starts, eyes wide as they meet his own, and something in the back of his mind is nagging him that the look in the vet’s eyes is somehow familiar. “What?”

“Do mer like treasure?” He repeats himself.

Legend stares at him, blinking slowly as they continue along the path, but eventually the vet shakes his head and answers. “Depends on the mer. They’re people too, Time, they can have varying interests and hobbies. There is no standard for mer. None.”

“Don’t they all swim at least?”

Legend’s gaze is flat. “There are disabled Hylians aren’t there? Not all Hylians can walk, and not Mer can swim. Some just choose not to because they don’t like it!”

Time frowns. How does the vet know so much about mer culture? “How do you know this?”

The vet shrugs, eyes darting away. “I’ve been a lot of places and met a lot of people. Mer are no exception.”

“I thought you hated swimming and the water?” Wind breaks in, falling back to join the two of them with an odd look on his face. He looks like a puppy and it’s killing Time not to ruffle the kid’s hair.

“Didn’t always.” Legend returns, smiling wryly down at the sailor. “But enough of that. The real question here is if you’ve ever met one, sailor.”

“A mer?” Wind furrows his brow, looking away with a soft sigh. “The water in my world isn’t safe for the people who lived in it. There’s hardly even any fish in most places. The Zora in my time had to adapt to the air instead in order to survive.”

Awkward silence falls over them, the vet looking guilty for a half a moment before he settles a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “The goddesses aren’t always fair, Maliit, it’s not your fault.

Time hums his agreement, heart aching for yet another young hero and a world that suffered for Time’s failure to have properly saved it.

He sees the mer again. Not just when he’s in the water himself, but when he’s keeping watch during the night or on occasion when he goes fishing with Twilight. The Pup says nothing about seeing gold and pink beneath the water, but Time finds himself watching it all the same.

It darts beneath the dock they’re fishing on one time, and when Twilight’s line gets a tug, the rancher pulls it up only to find the one of his boots dangling from the other end.

Time can’t help it, he laughs.

So, this mer is a prankster, huh?

He takes to seeking them out, trying to catch their attention or try to talk to them, but nothing works. The minute that gold and violet eyes meet his own, petal pink scales flick deftly in the waves and the mer is swimming away.

But Time isn’t dumb.

He knows that the same mer cannot reasonably exist across all of time, not with all the changes that come to the world with each hero. He knows that this being is somehow following them, and h’s got a rather good idea exactly how it’s happening.

It’s a long shot, but he knows for a fact that Legend is always gone from camp before he sees the creature, and enough times startling the vet when asking about mer has taught him that the expressions between the two are the same. All he knows on the mer’s face is shock, but the vet’s eyes glimmer the same shade of violet, even if they are different in size and shape, and the petal pink hair that the vet comes out of the forest with one evening after their group was separated is uncannily similar to the shade of the mer.

They’ve made camp again, and rather than climbing into the water when he catches a moment alone, Time settles on the shore, not in the mood to be in the water but in need of its calming song. The air has been tense the past few days, and Time welcomes a brief moment to relax, forcing himself not to think of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side or the ragged breath that wheezes between the rancher’s lips.

Twilight will be fine, he reminds himself. Hyrule and Warriors had worked together to tend the wound and while it would definitely leave a scar, the danger of losing their beloved friend and brother (and maybe son?) is not so high anymore.

He welcomes a free breath, away from the hurt gazes of his boys as they try and process that their beloved canine friend and the rancher are one and the same. A chance to think without having to stop those who were out of the know from bombarding those who were in it with questions.

He’s glad to be free of the questions himself.

Legend seems to be too, if the glint of pink beneath the waves is to be believed.

He doesn’t approach this time, doesn’t try entering the water to speak. He’s tired and he wants his spae, and he imagines Legend would like his own too. So, instead, he sits on the bank, feet trailing in the water and ocarina on his lips as he plays softly.

The tune is a sweet one, one he’d written himself that lilts and dips softly, very nearly perfect for a dance, but far more suited to a night by a fire or watching the sunset. And sunset it is, fading light stretching out across the water, glinting of the surface and reflecting off of gold and pink-

He stops, eye wide as he turns towards the flash in his vision.

Gold and violet stare back at him, framed in curling pink as Legend freeze half-way through pulling on his tunic again.

Gold fades just as the scales dissapear and leave the vet siting on the shore, tunic still bunched around his shoudlers and violet eyes wide with fear as he regards his leader.

“I won’t tell.” Time forces, turning away his gaze and returning his focus to the instrument in his hand. He doesn’t play, but he doesn’t look up either.

“It’s an item.” Legend forces, strained. His voice is still tainted with whatever power had shifted him between forms, and it’s sweeter and more melodious than normal. “I found it on my third adventure. Got cursed.”

“Like the rancher?” Time hums softly, not having to look up to know that Legend is shifting nervously, foot tapping madly at the ground beneath him.

“Yeah.” Legend huffs.

“Okay.” And he does look up them, calm and as open as he can make himself seem as he meets the vet’s gaze.

“Just okay?” One brow cocks as Legend crosses his arms.

“Just okay. It’s your secret, Legend. I can’t change what I’ve seen, but I won’t tell the others either.”

Legend nods, wary bit willing to accept the words, if only for now. “If you say so.”

They’re on their way back to camp, Legend carrying an armload of fish and Time carrying both of their bags when the vet stops and glares at him. “I don’t want to hear any jokes, alright? I get enough of those from Twilight and Sky.”

“They know?” The old man tilts his head in question.

Legend flushes, ducking his head and setting off again at a speed some might label a scurry. “No. Hurry up, these fish are gonna rot!”

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Waves lap around his head and it’s all Time can do to break the surface, coughing and hacking as he struggles to remain above the water.

The portal had come at the worst time ever, and no one had been ready to be dropped into the center of the ocean.

Lightning crackles overhead as waves swirl and crash about him. The ocean rages and Time is again reminded how small Hylian’s are in the face of Mother Earth herself.

“Boys!” The shout rasps from his throat as he spins to look about, praying to every deity he knows that he’ll find the rest of them safe and sound, or at the very least together. Never mind that Twilight still can’t walk, much less swim. Never mind the smithy’s shattered arm and Wild’s fear of the water. He can’t panic about those right now, he has to find them!

“Over here!” Sky’s voice answers him. The Chosen Hero clings to the shivering form of the smithy, both are soaked and trembling, but they’re managing to stay above the waves.

“My Hyrule!” Wind calls out as Time strikes out towards them, and the sailor continues once he’s close enough to see that at least five of his boys are safe. “We’re near land,” Wind nods in a random direction and Time wonders briefly how the sailor even knows that. “It could be a challenge in these waves, but we can make it. Have you seen the others?”

Hyrule looks up at him hopefully, the water-logged traveler fighting madly to stay above the water but succeeding despite the waves. Time reminds himself to help the boy learn to swim more effectively later, and more importantly how to properly tread water, but for now he focuses on answering Wind. “You're the firsts. We’ll have to hope the others are alright, getting y’all to safety is my first concern.

“But Wild!” Hyrule splutters, choking on some water as Time swims over to give the traveler someone to cling to. Freezing fingers latch ahold of his armor as teeth chatter, the waves are neither kind nor warm and with their health as it is he’s certain someone is going to end up with a cold when this is all over. “And Twilight! A-and Legend and Wars! They’re out there somewhere!”

“We have to hope Legend and Warriors can elp the other two. We can’t do them any good if we’re fighting to stay above ourselves.” He tries to same calm, but his own mind and heart scream with the same message that Hyrule’s voice does, and its all he can do to push it down.

Thunder rolls overhead and waves beneath as they push off towards the shore, each of the older heroes aiding a younger one as Wind guides them all towrads the supposed island.

Time hs never been so relieved to see sand in his life, and as Hyrule pulls himself up the bach and Wind helps Sky to settle Four, Time can only pray that he’ll find his way back again. “I’m going to look for the otehrs. Wind, stay and help Sky.” The sailor looks as if he wants to hesitate, but he knows better than anyone how a small body can be lost to the waves much easier than an adult. “Make a fire, warm up as best you can. Keep an eyes out. I’ll come back if- when I find the others.”

He stops only to shed his armor and don his Zora gear, but a single dive beneath the water is enough to tell him that it’s for naught. Wind wasn’t joking about his water being toxic, and a single breath of the stuff leaves Time heaving as soon as he breaks the surface.

His chances of finding the boys have lowered considerably.

Nayru above, don’t let anyone have sunk beneath!

Time swims for all he is worth, pushing past weariness as he battles each and every wave. And he’s just beginning to lose hope when he catches sight of something silver reflecting in the water as lighting flashes above.

“Time!”

Blue whips around to meet its twins as Warriors comes to swim beside him. “Have you found any of the others?”

“Wind, Sky, Hyrule and Four.” he breathes back. “You?”

The captian looks rueful but nods to his side. “Legend.”

Time can’t help but start as Legend’s eyes peek above the surface. Golden and violet are glassy in the pale ace of the vet, but they’re there and that means that Legend is alive.

“I’ve officially met my first mer.” Warriors sighs, but there’s worry in the captains voice and face both.

“Split up.” Legend’s voice rasps, and there none of the melodic song that Time is used to hearing from this form of the vet.

Legend is pale, far too pale.

“What’s-”

“Wind’s world.” Warriors tells him. “Water here is toxic.”

The water is toxic. The water, which mer have to breath to stay alive, is toxic.

Time’s gaze shoots to the vet but there’s only a flick of gold and pink as he disappears beneath the waves. Warriors groans.  “He keeps doing that! I swear, I have no way of knowing if he’s even still there, but he still insists on disappearing like the little shit he is.”

Usually, Time would scold his brother for such a tone, but he knows that Warriors is just sacred. He’s terrified, and it leaks into his voice and his actions, and the only way that the soldier knows how to hide the fear is by biting back with venom, not dissimilar to the vet’s own actions.

They swim together, searching and calling out for the two missing heroes. Hope is beginning to fade and Time can feel a gnawing fear eating away at his heart as he thinks of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side and the likelihood that Twilight would even be able to swim with it.

His pup’s chances aren’t high.

“Look!” Warriors shouts over the storm, jerking him from his thoughts as his eyes follow the captain’s pointing hand.

Pink bobs on the surface, backed by bedraggled and soaked black fur as Legend hauls Twilight’s limp form through the water.

“Pup!”

He’s taking the lad from Legend as soon as they’re in reach, and Legend seems to sag in relief as the weight is removed from his shoulder. “Was with Wild. Bring him to-” The vet wheezes and ducks beneath the water for a moment, coming up with a pained expression on his face. “Bring to shore. I’ll get Wild.” He gives them no time to respond, tail flicking as he disappears beneath the waves again.

Time and Warriors exchange a glance and head back to shore, supporting the weight of the rancher between them.

Wind and Sky have managed to get a virtual bonfire going on the shore, and the sailor has laid what blankets and bed-rolls he’s found of their equipment in front of it, allowing their dampened things to ry as he and the other three heroes bundle together for warmth.

It’s with a cheer that they al; greet Time and Warriors as the two emerge from the ocean, and Time can’t help but smile a bit in relief at seeing them all safe again. Only a little longer and Legend will be back with Wild, and then he can rest easy knowing they’re all out of the storm.

Rain still patters against already soaked skin and cloth, but with the fire flickering before them Time can’t bring himself to care over much.

Hyrule’s fingers shiver as they slide over the wound in Twilight’s side, cleansing it from the poisonous water that has soaked into the bandages, and while Twilight grits his teeth and winces, he’s at least conscious enough to do so, and that alone brings some peace to the others.

Warriors informs the others of the whereabouts of their two missing brothers, and Time helps to settle Twilight on one of the warming bedrolls. It made still be wet, but it’s better than getting sand in the pup’s wound.

They wait in tense silence, bundled together to share heat as nervous gazes watch the shore. Wind hasn’t stopped muttering under his breath and Four isn’t doing much better with his half formed sentences and steady murmurs.

It’s only when Wild’s golden hair can be seen on the shore that they all release a breath of air.

Cornflower blue is wide and glazed, likely from shock, but it doesn’t stop the champion from reaching back into the waves to pull out his companion.

Legend is a mess.

The veteran gasps and splutters for breath once he’s free, skin a sickly shade of white and eyes just as glazes as Wild's own as the two clings to each other, and when the two stand together Legend is leaning heavily against the shaking champion, and it’s only through sheer luck that Time and Sky get there in time to catch them before the duo collapses back into the waves.

Wild curls against Time’s chest, fingers shaking and eyes blank as the man carries him back to the fire. Legend doesn’t even stir, lying limp in Sky’s hold as the Skyloftian bustles back to join the other heroes.

Nothing is said about the glistening tail that fades into legs once Legend is warmed and dried, and even if anyone had dared the stern gaze of the first of their number would have been enough to silence them.

Violet blinks hazy and distant beneath the warmed fabric of Sky’s sailcloth, but they are all safe. They are all safe and they are alive.

“Thanks to Legend.” Wild whispers when he comes back, head resting against Times collar bone. “Without him I would have never got Twi back to shore.”

“Three cheers for the vet.” Wars forces a smile, and while the cheers are heartfelt and thankful, they do nothing to lighten the mood.

Legend hates being at Ordon.

It’s not that he hates the people; he’s used to country folk, he was raised around them, heck, his grandparents have the same strong twang in their voices that everyone in Twi’s village does! He loves the fresh air and the sounds of animals and the sight of growing things everywhere he looks.

But he hates looking around and seeing Twilight’s entire village (even the freaking kids!) wander around lifting things that probably equal his entire body weight!

Seriously, Malo (that was the terrifying toddler’s name, right? That’s what Twilight said when he introduced them all, right?) could lift up a small goat with ease, and he was an actual toddler!

What was Uli feeding her children that they turned out this strong? Were all the village women using it? How on earth was every person in all of Ordon fully capable of throwing Legend over their shoulder?

It hadn’t happened yet, but Legend was on guard because it was only so much time before someone figured out it was possible, and it wasn’t as if he could fight them off.

He wasn’t jealous, definitely not. Not even when he saw Twilight carrying a mother goat across the village with an easy stride as he brought the nanny back to her pen. When he buried his face in his arms and sighed it wasn’t because he was remembering how much he had to tug and pull to move a basket of apples, no, it was just because the mere thought of carrying goats for the foreseeable future made him tired. Definitely.

But this strength was just an Ordon thing, right? It was totally just something that was common in Ordon, and Legend took comfort in that as he sat on the front porch of Uli and Rusl’s house and helped with the mending.

Even their blankets were heavy, what the heck?

But then Sky walked past.

And Sky was carrying a barrel, an entire barrel. One that swished and clunked with the sounds of grain filling it, and if the small trail of spilled seed that followed after the hero meant anything, then that thing was full.

Okay, so Skyloftians were strong too, no big deal.

Big deal.

Their entire visit to Ordon, helping to hide away animals and supplies before a local monster band stole them, was spent with Legend trying desperately to not be jealous as he watched everyone from Wind to Time lift and carry things that he couldn’t even knock over if he pushed against them.

It wasn’t even that most of thing things were heavy, it was just... he was weak.

Uli’s gaze when she’d figured out the truth had been surprised, eyes blown wide with shock as she watched as Legend, who’d opted to help indoors since he knew working outside would lead to him being more a burden than an aid, struggled to lift buckets of water to fill the wash basin. Dark brown eyes had followed him as he’s left the bucket outdoors and stomped inside, hissing and wheezing under his breath as he moved his attention to his bag and grabbed one of his power bracelets.

“Hun,” Uli’s soft country twang caught his attention as the woman drew close, concern filling her warm gaze. “Are ya’ feelin’ alright?”

And reputation or no, Legend’s Gran would have his hide on a hitching-post if he even so much as dropped his manners. There was something about country folk that was so inherently polite and welcoming, that even the salty vet couldn’t help but return with the same manners that his Gran had pounded into his head since childhood.

“Yes, ma’am.” Crimson trailed up his neck to blossom across his cheeks and shoot up his ears. He tried to ignore that Uli had a baby on one hip and a bushel of food on the other, breath contained and relaxes as she stood there, no hint of strain in her face or body language. His fingers trailed along the clasp of his power bracelet, shame building inside as he shuffled his feet.

You just can’t walk away when lady’s talking to you, especially if she’s being all polite like and just makin’ sure you’re okay.

“Are you injured?” The farm-wife pressed. “You were huffy something huge with that there bucket.”

And Legend would like nothing more than to sink into the earth as he glances over the full bucket of water that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t lift. “I’m just not much of a farm-hand is all, ma’am. I’ll be right as rain in a tick, just needed to grab something I forgot.”

And while the look Uli gives him is a bright smile, he knows worry when he sees it peeking out of someone’s gaze. He tries to ignore that, instead turning back to the chores he’d been assigned and trying his hardest to ignore ethe fact that no one else was wearing power bracelets when they all came back for dinner that evening.

He’s not strong. So what? He can lift his sword well enough, and he can do most other things too when he wears the power bracelets.

Yes, he knows that Ravio warned him about not developing muscles if he relied on objects so much, but he’s never had time to work out or build any muscle mass, so when he needs it it’s a bit more important to just get his work done rather than hope he’ll develop it. He’s paying for that, and he knows it, but he can’t really help that he doesn’t have the time or space to really do anything about it.

Oh well, at least the others haven’t caught on.

Warriors hefts a huge rock over his shoulder and throws it, chuckling deep and loud as he smirks at the rancher. “Beat that!”

They’re clearing a road where an avalanche swept through and blocked off the main entrance to a local town. They’ve been at it for hours, and while Legend tries his hardest to be discreet by sticking to things he can actually lift, even if it does require his bracelets, the others have devolved into a contest to see who can throw stuff the furthest.

There’s nothing on the other side of the road except for the edge of a swamp, and even Legend has to admit that it’s ridiculously satisfying to hear each of the heavy stones go ‘plop’ as they land in the marsh.

Twilight smirks at the captain, all his sharp teeth on display as he hefts a rock that’s the size of Wild and easily bigger than half of the rest of the heroes. “Watch and learn, city boy.” Twilight grunts (well at least it took some effort) before throwing the boulder and watching with the rest of them as it soars through the air and lands with a dramatic ‘splosh’ in the middle of the swamp. Cheers erupt from the younger heroes, and a few even drop their own burdens to give a brief round of applause.

Warriors humphs shrewdly, gaze thin as he looks over at Twi, who only cocks a brow in challenge. “Anyone think they can beat that?”

Legend finds his gaze meeting Four’s swirling hazel, and they both quickly look away from the captain, both well aware that the biggest rocks they’ve lifted are maybe the sizes of their heads, and no where near the horrific loads that the taller heroes are tossing left and right.

“I’ll try!” Wild’s eyes are flashing as the kid clambers over the rock slide, eyes darting to and fro until they land on what has to be the biggest, most horrifically sized piece of rubble Legend has ever seen. The Champion beams, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles briefly before taking the stone in both hands and lifting it over his head and throwing it.

The swam erupts in goop and several of their group yelp and have to dark back as smelly water sprinkles the edge of the path. Wild beams down from his perch on top of the pile, hands on his hips as he looks down at them. “Who dares challenge my strength?”

“How about you, Vet?” Warriors nudges him lightly, chuckling with a cocked brow. The man is just teasing, and he doesn’t mean any harm, but Legend finds himself irritated anyways. He doesn’t know what it is about Warriors, but the man gets under his skin entirely too easily.

“No thanks.” He grunts, hefting his own stone (so small in comparison) a bit higher and adjusting his grip as he walks over to the swamp.

Wild scrabbles around above, knocking stones aside and sending them rolling down towards the vet. Legend rolls his eyes, dodging quickly around a few and kicking some of the larger ones in the direction of the swamp.

He smiles to himself at the satisfying ‘plonk’ as each one hits the surface.

Four’s head aches and the next time they see Warriors they’re going to kick him in the shins.

The captain is good at planning, usually, but if his planning means that Four is waking up to stare around a vast room where people in red and black PJ suits are eating bananas because said plan went wrong, then they think they’re a bit justified in wanting to kick the captain.

They’d reach to rub their head, to adjust the headband that’s riding too low and letting their hair all hang in their eyes, but their hands are bound behind them, and they’re left huffing their breath and scrunching their nose in an effort to relive their irritation. Their mind is too wild to shake their head, but they let their eyes wander.

Legend’s violet gaze meets theirs, sharp fury bubbling below the surface as Legend sits across from them, hands bound behind him, a rope leading from his wrists to a hook in the wall that is definitely higher than either of the two of them can reach.

As unkind as it is, they breathe a sigh of relief to know they aren’t alone (even if being four people in one body technically means that they’re never alone as is). It’s...nice, having Legend around. They don’t know what it is, but the taller boy feels safe and that’s something that they, especially Red, fond comfort in.

But the fact that two of them are here means that Wars is getting both his shins kicked, fair is fair.

Legend squeaks in that harsh way he does when he’s angry, a poor and rather adorable attempt at a growl, but apparently, he’s unable to make any sort of guttural noise, so the squeak is the best he can do. “I am going to strangle Wars when we get back. Yiga? Seriously?”

They raise a brow. “Weren’t we fighting moblins?”

“And a Talus. Unless these guys have transformative rings, then someone messed up.” The vet grates out, but before he can try and unravel their situation any more, a masked face is shoved into the vets own, one of the pajama clad banana eater’s apparently trying to leer over the vet, breath strong and rank even behind his mask.

“So! The friends of the hero awake! You will call me Astorah! Leader of the Yiga and supreme priestess to Lord Ganon!”

“I’ll call you annoying and maybe alive if you let us go.” legend drawls, unimpressed. “Seriously lady, get your face of mine or I’ll knock it in.”

They smirk. Legend is as polite and well-mannered as can be around the country villages, but the minute he’s away from thick mountain drawls and country twang, the Vet becomes a sour and salty speaker who’s as likely to threaten you as o smile at you. It would almost be funny if they weren’t being held captive.

Astorah makes an indignant sound, hand shooting out to smack Legend across the face. The vet can’t do anything to stop it, and the blow sends his head swinging to the side, a faint grunt escaping as the self-declared priestess stands to her full height (she’s taller than either of them at any rate) and promptly orders her subordinates to see to it that the prisoners be brought to ‘the mountain’.

“The hero will be looking for his friends,” The pajama clad leader declares excitedly, hands rubbing together like a villain in a bad stage play. “So, let's help him out, shall we?”

The vet and smithy exchange a glance, each somewhat surprised at how... pathetic their opponent seems to be.

“Their screams should do the trick; all heroes listen to cries of help after all.” There’s a mad waver in her voice and the pitching is all wrong.

She’s delusional. Vio whispers, and the rest of them are inclined to agree.

Across from them, legend scowls as another red and black clad weirdo comes to grasp his binds, unhooking them from above as yet another does the same to Four.

Ideally, they would try and escape now, but legend only follows along slowly as Astorah leads them through the endless halls and up step after step, murmuring, laughing and shrieking loudly as she goes, hands fluttering and gestures erratic as Legend’s scowl grows more and more each minute.

It all seems rather pathetic, all thing considered, until another, larger, more intimidating individual stops them, voice harsh as it grates out something in a language neither hero can understand. Astorah protests and shrieks at the figure, but they disregard her and instead turn to the heroes.

“Put them back, screams echo within a cave far better than on a mountain top.”

Four’s stomach sinks. Being outside means being closer to escape, means finding the others easier and kicking Wars for landing the in a battle where two of their own had been captured by the enemy.

Legend seems to be of the same idea, his eyes flashing as he pulls at his bonds, tugging away from the guard holding onto him.

The oddly garbed enemy slaps him again, but Legend doesn’t seem to be affected, only pushing harder and biting towards the next hand that swings his way. Astorah pulls away with a light sob, shrieking when Legend’s teeth keep hold of her hand while the enemies around them erupt into action.

Fours unsure of what happens next, their head is still spinning, and quite honestly, they’re sure Hyrule will declare him concussed when they get back, but he does see blows being thrown Legend's way, blades being drawn as shouts echo around them.

There’s a dark of movement, and one of the enemies falls. Four stares in shock for half of a moment before turning their gaze to Legend, who, for all intents and purposes, looks half feral.

Blood stains the Vet’s bucked teeth and his hair swirls as he spins and ducks beneath blows. His hands are still bound tightly behind him, a rope trailing on the ground as Legend evades contact, yet somehow still manages to down another enemy.

Four would try and help, but their mind is spinning, their brain not yet up to date with what their eyes are seeing, that and they’re still bound themself, their arms are fastened behind them and they’re not even sure how Legend is managing to get blows in.

And the he sees.

The vet’s boot swings up to make contact with one of the jaws of the enemy.

Yiga. Wild had told them about them, the Yiga clan, people out for the hero’s blood. The word only comes to mind now, but they’d had to tune out of the battle for a brief moment to remember it. They’re brought back to it as the sound of an agonized scream breaks through the air, accompanied by the harsh snapping sound that Four knows too well from having broken their own bones.

Legend fights with his hands behind his back, kicking out like an angered horse and injuring any who step near. It’s impressive honestly, watching how blood spurts and bones crumple from the force of the vet’s blows, and all that without having use of his hands.

The Yiga back away, eventually leaving the room entirely as Legend squeaks out an angry Legend sound after them, before turning his attention to Four. Four says nothing, and it appear Legend thinks that that’s okay, because he darts towards the door they had been headed too, leading Four with nervous glances being thrown back over his shoulder every few minutes.

The mountain top they emerge onto is higher than Four expected, and they want nothing more than to snuggle down in the cozy parka Legend once leant him, but they have none of their items, and they’re lucky to even be out in one piece.

It takes a lot of work to climb down a mountain with their hands tied, but their fingers are too cold to make any good of the knots, and they manage in the end to climb down. They’re in the last legs when Four notices what looks like a small group of travelers below, and they can almost hear the singing of the Four Sword from them.

They’d dropped their blade in their battle, the very reason they were caught in the first blade. They’re not happy someone else touched it, but they are glad they didn’t leave it behind.

“Four,” Legend’s voice breaks them from their thoughts, and as they turn to face him, they find that Legend’s face is flushed, ears twitching nervously as he avoids their gaze. “Could you...not tell the others about all that?”

“About what?” They clamber down another stone, Legend still within sight as he trails down beside them.

“The...kicking.” Legend flushes. “I know you guys- most of them anyway- could have it handled better. I just, Wars is bad enough as is, I don’t need him bring up my lack of strength next time he decides he needs ammo to mess with me.” There’s a scowl on the vets features as he hops down and across and small hold in the mountain side. “I get it, I’m weak in comparison, they could probably have beheaded those guys with their bare hands, but mine fingers are shit o a good day and-”

Four doesn’t know if they actually figure something out or randomly spew words, but Legend’s eyes turn to them in surprise when the smithy stares down at him. “You do know most Hylia’s can’t do anything by kicking each other, right? I’m planning on kicking Wars when we get back, and the most it’ll do is bruise him.” Their voice is flat, but they let Viol take over, he always had the best endurance out of them when it came to rocky places anyways. “You kicked a man’s ribs in, Legend.”

And it’s not funny, it really isn’t, but they giggle, watching as Legend flushes before their eyes, and when the others trail up towards them, gazes curious and concerned, Four is laughing hysterically.

It could be the head wound, it could be Legend’s face, but the thought that Legend was able to kick a man's ribs in and hadn’t done so to any of them yet was both surprising and highly relieving for whatever reason, and it’s hilarious listening to Legend try and explain himself as the vet protests and struggles against the fact that apparently Hylian’s don’t usually have enough leg strength to kill people with.

Yes, people died back there. Yes, Four just watched them die. Maybe it’s Shadow’s influence, but Four can’t find that they're overly bothered. They are tired and injured and cold, and if they can laugh about something as ridiculous as Legend’s strange strength imbalance, then Hylia danggit they’re going to!

 There is a bunny on the edge of camp.

 It crouches in the shadows, eyes glinting gold and red in the firelight, nose twitching as it watches them.

 Wind watches it back.

 He doesn’t think that the others have seen t, no one’s said anything, and they all know how Warriors hates rabbits. So, he doesn’t say anything, not to them, he only wanders around the camp casually before settling down close-ish to where the bunny hides.  

 There aren’t many wild animals in his Hyrule, aren’t many animals at all, but Four’s taught him how to convey that he’s friendly to the minish and some of the forest life, so he tries to employ that knowledge now. He doesn’t look the rabbit directly in the eye, but he does force his ears forwards towards it, letting them flick away here and again, fingers rubbing softly as he glances casually as velvety pink paws.

 He waits until he can see the rabbit watching him before he begins to whisper soft and quiet. “Hello, hello there lil’ guy.”

 There’s a huff from the bunny, but it takes a single agonizingly slow step forwards, body stretched out and nose twitching as it watches him, ears pricked up curiously. When Wind doesn’t do anything different, just keeps speaking low and soft, the bunny lops its way over, ears up and attentive as it stops beside him, eyes turned up to stare into his own with a surprising amount of boldness for a creature close enough for him to smash in one blow.

 “Hello.” Wind murmurs softly, moving slowly as he raises his hand over the rabbit, only to find himself starting as the bunny simply stares at him with the most unimpressed expression on it’s fuzzy face. Even Wolfie, who is strangely intelligent even for a dog, or so he’s heard has never looked so unimpressed with something, and the sailor finds himself lowering his hand sheepishly as if scolded, meeting the rabbit’s eyes and starting when it doesn’t flinch away, instead watching him intently with shivering nose and twitching ears.

 “Hey Wind, watcha got there?” The rancher calls over, drawing the attention of the rest of the camp and making the sailor’s heart race.  

The bunny’s going to be startled! It’s going to run away! All that work to get it to come over and he won’t even get to touch it!

 But the rabbit doesn’t move, or rather, it doesn’t bolt away. Soft lavender eyes stare across the camp, unusual in their shade but lovely to gaze into as Wind finds himself transfixed with watching the silky sheen of the petal-pink fur and the glimmer of stars in lavender and golden eyes.

 “Wind?” The rancher’s voice rings with concern, and the sailor snaps bac to attention, a warm smile easily falling over his face as he turns to the camp. “It’s a rabbit.” He says quietly, careful not to startle the beast. “Twi, do you think it’ll let me pet it?”

 The rancher’s brows furrow as he looks over, markings shifting with the rest of his face as he stares at the rabbit warily.

 To their surprise, and apparently the rabbit’s too, the tiny animal freezes in place for all of a second only to have the slight tilt of Twilight’s head sending it diving into Wind’s lap, startling the sailor enough for his to blink in surprise, but not so badly that his hands don’t instantly bury themselves in the pink fur.

 And oh! It’s softer than he thought it would be! It’s nothing like Wolfie’s rough pelt or the feathers on Wild’s winter gear. The bunny’s fur is like fine down, or maybe silk, or- He runs his hands through it again, eyes widening with every stroke as the rodent shivers in his lap, eyes fixed on Twilight and ears pressed low as he huddles in the space left between the sailor’s legs as he sits criss-cross on the ground.

 “I guess that’s a yes.” Twilight chuckles, low and deep. It’s a sound that makes warmth flow through Wind’s chest, but the rabbit only shivers, huddling lower the longer Twilight’s gaze rests on it.

 “I think you’re scaring him.” The sailor hums softly, gently pulling the rabbit into his arms with an ease that comes from years of cradling his baby sister when she was small. The rabbit nestles close, eyes still on Twilight as it seems to shake itself, bt its doesn’t struggle against him, and Wind takes that as his cue to pull himself gently to his feet and cross the camp towards where Time and Wild sit playing a card game.  

 The champion is explaining the rules for the nth time as Time chuckles low and soft, purposefully asking questions that Wild’s already answered and earning pointed stares in return. The sailor’s approach lands just as Wild looks instants from pulling out his hair, and instantly cornflower blues are locking onto him with a strained smile, the champion apparently desperate to escape the game he’d asked for in the first place. “Hey, Wind, watcha have there.”

 “A rabbit.” He replies, moving one arm to let lavender eyes peek out and stare at the champion, who’s eyes fall open in awe as his cards spill from his hands.

 “It’s...you’re...” Wild’s eyes sparkle with awe as he looks from Wind to the rabbit in his arms. “How did you catch it?”

 The rabbit shuffles closer to Wind’s chest as the words are spoken, and the sailor has to settle a hand on it’s back to calm it again as it edges away from the cook’s glimemring eyes.

 “It was on the edge of camp.” Caution leaks into the pirate-hero's voice as he scrunches up his nose. “You better not ask if you can cook it.”

 Blue eyes shoot wide as Wild shakes his head violently, earning a soft laugh from Time as his apparent orrer at the idea. “No! It’s-” Wild’s fingers twitch. “I couldn’t- Can I hold it?” The second-youngest's eyes travel up to stare up into Time’s leadingly, wide and innocent and so terribly like Aryll’s face when she’s asking Granny for another bowl of soup or piece of bread that Wind can’t help but giggle as he gently scritches the rabbit’s ears.

 “That’s up to Wind.” Time answers gently. “But I don’t see why not.”

 Softly glowing blue turns to meet his own as Wild stare up, pleading, at him. “May I?”

 “Sure” He giggles, crouching low in front of the champion. “Have you ever held a baby?” Wild’s brow furrows, considering for a moment before shaking his head. “Okay, how about a kitten? A pup?”

 The champion only shakes his head, and Wind finds himself frowning as he looks first at the bunny in his arms and then up at Wild, who’s face is quickly falling to one of disappointment.

 “Here,” Time offers, gently arranging Wild’s arms properly. “It’s like this.”

 Between the two of them, they get the bunny situated in Wild’s thin arms, and within seconds the champion’s free hand is dragging through plush fur as awe shines across his face, Time and Wind both laughing fondly as they watch and occasionally reaching out themselves to scritch the rabbit’s long ears.

 Between them, there are eight heroes, and as of late, a rabbit has joined the mix, slung easily in Sky’s sailcloth as they travel.

 The creature didn’t seem keen on leaving, and while it’s in no way fond of Twilight, the others find that they can’t resist sneaking to the back of the group to gently scritch it’s ears, or laugh as it hops about exploring the land around them when they stop for a break.

 The Hyrule they’re in isn’t one that anyone recognizes, the forests strangely rich and the land both better kept than Wild’s while still more wild than the others. Fights in this world are intense, and only their two wanderers seem to be able to battle the insane variety and numbers of monsters with anything resembling ease.

 It’s strange too, having to hide the rabbit whenever battle comes, but the creature is smart, darting away when battles come, a scowl in its fuzzy face as it burrows beneath tree roots or into the brush, waiting until the battle is over to re-emerge, hopping slowly across the blood soaked ground without trepidation, not once blinking at the blood and grit that gets in its fur as it hops from one hero to the other, eyes flickering between violet and lavender as it analyzes them, chirring angrily at any of them when they try to hide wounds, and nestling in the laps of the younger hero’s with a put upon look when Warrior’s has to stitch something up.

...

 “He needs a name.” Wind declares after the second battle, his good hand petting the rabbit’s long ears while Sky helps to wrap the sprain in his wrist.

 “Isn’t bunny enough?” Warriors eyes the rabbit disdainfully. “You didn’t give the wolf anything fancy.”

 “He’s not just a bunny though!” Wind protests with a well-placed pout. “He’s our bunny-friend!”

 “And the wolf isn’t your wolf-friend?” Twilight cocks a brow, something like hurt flashing through his eyes before he actually winces, hissing softly as Warriors continues to stitch him up.

 “The wolf comes and goes. Besides, he’s a wild thing, so it’d be wrong to name him like a common dog.” Wind explains, shrugging lightly but stopping when Sky pushes his shoulder back down with a whispered reprimand for moving. “The bunny stays with us though,” Wind continues, holding still this time save for the hand that continues along the bunny’s pelt. “He needs a real name.”

 “Agreed.” Wild sounds, shuffling over with a leafy vegetable in his hands that their rabbit friend takes with a pleased chirr, glancing up at the champion appreciatively before setting his sharp teeth to the plant, earning a smile from the champion.

 “Any ideas?” Time starts, glancing around camp and earning a flick on the ear from Hyrule, who’s still trying to clean a wound on the man’s face.

 “Seriously Time?” Warriors protests, but it’s too late, the others are already musing quietly and beginning to consider ideas.  

 “Petal?” Sky tries, glancing down at the rabbit in Wind’s arms. “Like, cherry blossom petals?”

 “Cherry!” Wild gasps, eyes glimmering hopefully.

 “Pinky.” Warriors snorts distastefully, earning an angry chitter from the rabbit, but the captain only glares back at the animal, as if it had just insulted him, mimicking the chitter pathetically and drawing laughs from the others.  

 “It’s a boy, right?” Twilight questions, cocking a brow, and the others exchange looks. “I think so? I’m not sure I want to check....”

 “Nothing too feminine then.” Sky nods slowly.

 “Floor.” Four suggests solemnly. “Floof the Poof.”

 Eight sets of eyes, including the rabbits, turn to stare at the smithy disbelievingly. Red glimmers in his eyes for all of a second before he starts and flushes. “Sorry,” The smith rubs at his neck nervously, red blooming over his face and down his neck. “I was thinking aloud, Intrusive thoughts, you know?”

 “What about Apple, for apple-blossom?” Time speaks slowly, eyes still on the smithy as he speaks, concern but fondness in his eyes.  

 The rabbit in Wind’s lap looks up, staring at Time and munching in a way that almost looks considering, violet eyes fixed on the eldest hero’s single one, the two locking gazes, neither blinking until Warriors sighs and snaps his fingers, startling them both.

 “Aaaand, that’s a yes for Apples.” Warriors rolls his eyes. “No angry chitter, no arguments against.” The captain’s gaze levels them all. “Unless anyone has any objections?”

 “Nope!”

 “I think it sound’s cute?” Sky chuckles, patting Wind’s arm to signal that he’s finished and scratching the newly named Apples behind the ears. The rabbit huffs in his rabbit way, but they've all grown too used to the grouchiness of the animal to do anything other than laugh at it.

...

 Apples is a wonder, and they are so very happy to have him.

 There is nothing so convincing to make Sky finally relax than to have a pink mess of fur barrel into his lap and force heavy eyes to close under the soothing feeling of fur on his fingers and a small warm body pressed against his own.

 Sky’s restless sleep and eternal exhaustion ease with every night and Wind giggles as each evening after dinner the bunny climbs resolutely into Sky’s lap, glaring pointedly up at the Skyloftian until long fingers are dragging through his fur and crystal blue eyes are falling shut contently.

 When Sky shoots awake at night, there's a rabbit there that presses tiny paws to his chest, dark eyes staring up into his face in the darkness as ears flick and a tiny nose twitch, worry in the rabbit's expression as Sky sighs, a light smile on his face as he raises a hand to run through long fur. “I’m good, Apples, it was just a dream.”

 The rabbit always snorts, scowling lightly and buffeting Sky’s chest with its head, but the Skyloftian only chuckles lightly, wrapping the bunny in his arms and shifting to lie on his side, the rabbit held close as he fades back into sleep.

...

 When Time broods, brows low and frown lines pulling at his features and aging him by decades, most of the others know not to disturb him. They let each other have their space and they never press. Wolfie will, at time, curl up at the old man’s feet or sit at his side, allowing callused fingers to run through his thick fur as Time sits and stares at the ground, mind a world away where none of them ever wish to see, if the pain and sorrow in his gaze is to be read properly.

 Perhaps a rabbit cannot be expected to understand this law of privacy though, even if he is unusually intelligent.

 Time’s hair falls into his face as he perches on a stone on the edge of camp, gaze fixed on Lake Hylia below them as his elbows rest on his knees, face downcast and frowning as pain glimmers in his single blue eye.

 Apples, who had been stretching his legs after being carried in Sky’s arms during their traveling that day, pauses, ears flicking up and towards the old man, paws freezing just off the ground as he watches, nose twitching.

 The heroes watch, Wind darting up worriedly as the bunny lops closer to Time, but he freezes when the pink ball of fur pulls himself up next to Time with surprising agility, head butting carefully against their leader’s armored thigh as a soft squeak break through the air. Time doesn’t stir, not at first, but then the rabbit settles next to him, one paw on the old man’s leg, eyes following Time’s down to Lake Hylia.

 Scarred hands twitch before finally landing in silky pink, pulling through the long fur as tension bleeds from Time’s shoulders, a breathy sigh escaping their leader before a soft tune begins to drift through the air.  

 The rabbit gently settles down, head resting beside his paws as Apple allows Time to pet him slowly.

 The others are to far to understand the words, but Time’s soft murmurs break the silence, Apple’s ears twitching while an intelligent bunny face stares up at the tear-streaked face of the hero of Time.

 When Time rejoins the rest of them for dinner, it’s with Apples nestled in his arms, a sad sort of peace in the hero’s gaze as he settles down to join in the meal, never once releasing Apples while they eat and joke, and by the time the meal is finished, the pink bunny is soundly asleep in Time’s arms.

...

 It’s Four that seems the most curious about their little friend, and while the rabbit doesn’t seem particularly playful, the smith will occasionally catch up the animal, laughing s Apples sighs in an almost reluctant manner, and carry him off into the woods near where they are.

 The Minish love Apples, and Four himself delights in diving amidst the pink fur or the first time while the bunny looks at him in utter shock.

 Air enough, it was unlikely that Apples had ever seen a Hylian shift into a Minish before. But at this size, Four can enjoy Apples’ fur far better than as a Hylian, and it’s delightful to lead the rabbit around, chattering lightly as Apples lops along behind him, ears pricked and nose shivering as they move through Minish towns and groves, exploring the tiniest nooks and crannies they can find and having all sors of adventures.

 Of course, there are dangers to being smaller than a rabbit, and the first time a spider attacks them, freakishly big and easily big enough to rip off Four’s head, it’s Apples that darts to his rescue, chirping and scolding in his rabbit way as he thumps his feet and pins back his ears in a strange imitation of Wolfie’s growl.

 The spider is in no ways eager to give up her prey, and Four finds that, despite killing monsters on the daily, he has to turn away in disgust as Apples tears the spider apart, eyes flashing with gold as the seemingly harmless pink rabbit unleashes mass destruction on not only the one spider, but also her sisters that emerge from the burrow beside them. Long legs and venomous maws stretch over the top of him, reaching out to grab the Minish Hero, only to have a rabbit dart over, teeth flashing and harsh chatters sounding as legs and bodies are torn asunder.

 When the spiders stop emerging, the small patch of grass is full of the remains of spiders, and Apples is rubbing at his nose and sneezing softly, absolutely covered in the remains of the monstrous insects.

 “Thank you...” Is all the smithy can breathe out as Apples’ eyes meet his own.

 He’s replied to with a sneeze.

 Four shifts back as soon as possible, carrying his bunny savior back to camp and carefully helping to clean the rabbits long fur, murmuring softly and thankfully all the while. And if he shares a but about his previous adventures, and Ezlo, who while being a hat shared some things in common with the grouchy rabbit, well, it’s not like Apples will be able to tell anyone!

...

 It’s Wild that seems the most enraptured with their new little companion. Always asking the older hero’s questions as he sorts through his inventory, offering all sorts of foods and treats to the rabbit and cooing in delight each time something is accepted. No one knows what it is exactly what it is about watching Apples eat has Wild so happy, but there’s no denying that the easy grin that steals over his face is better than the solemn frown and sad thoughtfulness that takes over on occasion.

 The first time they see Wild go into a memory, it’s Apples that catches their attention, the rabbit shrieking worriedly as he bumps against the champion’s still hand, concern filling his violet eyes as he stares up at the champion, paws raised to press against the hero’s stomach while ears and nose twitch and shiver worriedly.  

 Apples doesn’t even panic when Twilight steps over, although he does shrink back, wary as the rancher gently shakes Wild’s shoulder before sighing and sitting next to him. The rabbit mimics the motion, but on the other side, eyes flicking from Twilight to Wild with nervous concern and wariness, but when neither move he contents himself with gently rubbing against the champion’s limp hand.

 When Wild blinks awake again, eyes darting too and fro to take in his surrounds and breathing harsh, Apples jumps up, paws settling on the kid’s thigh and catching his attention, making the young hero still and stare. Tears well in cornflower blue eyes, and the rabbit doesn’t even sigh when Wild scoops him up, burying his face in Apples’ fur and sobbing quietly.

 Were their hearts not aching for their brother, soft chuckles would have sounded around camp when Apples had freed a paw to gently pat the champion’s cheek.

...

After the first few weeks and a few more switches, Sky will come to find Apples every time that bedtime draws near, scooping the bunny out of the lap of another hero with a chipper “My turn now!” as he almost skips over to his bedroll, bundling both himself and his emotional support bunny into his sailcloth with a smile as Apples rolls his rabbit eyes and presses his paws to Sky’s own blue eyes, pushing them closed before settling against the Skyloftian’s chest. The Chosen Hero is always asleep within minutes, sleepily singing Zelda’s lullaby between snores as Apples’ violet eyes watch the rest of the camp.

 When Time need space, the rabbit will follow, gently resting a paw on his leg and sitting with him, eyes filled with an understanding that is ridiculous in a rabbit, but somehow believable as Time’s callused fingers work through pink fur, songs and stories drifting from tired lips as long ears twitch ever so slightly to catch the words.

 When Wind is playful, he’ll dart up and after the rabbit, who will always sigh in his rabbit way and either dart away or give chase, running the youngest hero ragged until Wind collapses, giggling and breathless, with Apples hopping up on his chest to bat at his face, as if to say “I win, I beat you, you lost so give me pets” and Wind does, eventually hauling himself up, and inevitably knocking Apples over before administering thankful ear scratches and pets until Apples springs free and continues going about his rabbit business.

 Hyrule, though quiet, will often be found with the rabbit beside him, sometimes with Apple’s pushing his nose against the traveler’s hands and guiding them to better hold a knife while he’s carving, or a needle while he sews. It’s strange to see a bunny of all things unroll a bandage and offer it to the healor, but be it Hyrule or someone else that’s injured (provided it’s not Twilight) the rabbit will be springing over with his bunny brows furrowed as he scolds and fusses, nudging things over to Hyrule before the traveler can even ask someone for them, and climbing into bags and pulling out potions when the Hyrule’s healing glow begins to fade.

 Sleeves are tugged at when the Traveler is exhausted, unreleased until Hyrule agrees to rest, and when they eat the bunny will chitter and fuss and kick up a riot until Hyrule will humbly ask for seconds or Wild will offer them, stern indigo eyes following the travel’s movements until his bowl or plate is empty.

 When Wild is cooking, the rabbit will sit at his side, watching the process and chittering or nipping when the champion goes to add something dubious to the food, or begins to spice it too much for the younger ones to handle. Wild only ever laughs, offering bits and bobs of food as he works, and chuckling with delight when the bunny accepts them, Apple’s sharp teeth working away at leafy greens as stern violet eyes watch the young hero work.

 And when memories strike, harsh and horrid and often sad, the bunny climbs his way into Wild’s lap and sits until the hero stirs again. Apples’ fur is drenched time and again with tears, and every time, without fail, tiny paws gently pat the Wild’s head, lavender in normally violet eyes as a tiny nose nuzzles against a reddened and drooping ear.

 Four delights in exploring with Apples, and whether it be carrying the bunny off with him and chattering, or shrinking down and riding on Apples’ back, the two never fail to find something interesting to do.

 Through all of it, Twilight will gaze sadly at the rabbit who avoids him like death, and Warriors will scoff and roll his eyes, although fondly, as the younger heroes all fuss over their new friend.

 It’s only so much time before the captain breaks.

 It’s a nightmare, blood and blades and shrieks of two little boys and many trusted friends echoing in the captain’s mind, making him start awake with tears in his eyes. Warriors shivers in the night air, drawing his scarf around his neck and wrapping himself in his arms as he moves towards the fire.

 To his surprise, Apples sits before the flames as well, ears flicking towards the captain’s movements but gaze fixed on the flames with an almost sad air.

 The captain merely snorts and dismissed the rabbit in his mind, but with ever second the world around him presses closer and Warriors becomes more and more agitated. And still, the rabbit doesn't move, doesn’t look at him, Apples only sighs deeply as he stares into the fire, and when Warriors shoots the rabbit a confused look he starts when he sees what looks to be tears in lavender eyes.

 “You too huh?” Exhaustion loosens his tongue as he hunches before the fire, watching the flames dance. “Bad hunt? Lost mate?” The rabbit chitters something unintelligible, tiny body stiffening almost like Twilight’s does when he gets defensive. It draws a laugh from the captain’s throat, barking and bitter as his gaze rests on the burning remains of a log. “I feel you there, didn’t expect a rabbit to have trauma though.”

 An unimpressed glare is leveled his way, this time drawing a genuine but startled laugh from the captain. “So it’s like that huh? Too tough to talk about it?” 

 One ear twitches Apples wrinkling his tiny nose before stomping one of his feet agitatedly and huffing a short and sharp little breath at the flames.

 “I hear you.” Warriors laughs, a little broken and a little teary, eyes returning to the coals, shimmering with the ghosts of memories as screams echo in ears too used to their calls.

 Apples twitches, hesitant, ears flickering and feet stomping grouchily for a moment, before Warriors finds himself with a lap full of rabbit as the pink bunny pushes his head into Warriors’ hand, nearly demanding to be pet.

 “Oh,” Warriors scoffs, voice wet and harsh. “That’s how it is, huh? All your other Hylian’s are asleep, so because I’m awake from nightmares and goddess darned trauma, you figured I was available to pet you?”

 Another insistent nudge, and Warriors is rolling his eyes, pushing his hands through long fur with a sigh.

 It’s like silk, he muses to himself, blinking in surprise and running his hands through again. Like the finest of fabrics in the castle, like Artemis’ dresses that she wore when the war was over and they celebrated with dances and feasting and speeches of honor to the dead. Apples’ fur is like glinting red hair, oiled and brushed every night before bed. It’s like baby’s hair, impossibly soft and delicate.

 There’s a small body curled in his lap, and Warriors’ hands run over it curiously, stroking impossibly soft fur as he becomes lost in the wonder of the color, in the texture. Screams and blood fly from his mind as the captain’s fingers trail through the fluff, and warmth floods trough his chest when he takes Apples’ face in his hands and rubs at the rabbits' cheeks, laughter bubbling in his chest, warm and bright as the bunny scowls up at him.

 The next morning, when the heroes awake, its to find Sky shaking his head as he looks down at his usual sleeping companion held tight in Warriors’ arms, a blissful smile on the captain’s tearstained face. Apples scowls up at them, but he’s curled close to the man’s chest, with ample room to escape, and no one believes for a minute that he’s there against his will.

 The jabs and eye rolls continue from both parties, but on long nights, when the others are asleep and rabbit and soldier both find themselves awake, Warriors will scoop the bunny into his lap, losing himself in Apples’ fur before drifting off again.

 Wild has the pictures to prove it.

...

 Twilight sulks the entire time, the sadness in his eyes turning into a full-blown pout as he tries time and again to win Apples’ affection, earning teasing from all parties, but especially Wars.

 “I didn’t even want the thing, and he insists on climbing all over me!” The captain jests. “Yet you court him with more care than a knight with a lady he favors and he still rejects you!”

 The rancher’s scowl and accompanying growl always sends Apples closer to whatever other hero is nearest, the rancher’s eyes narrowing as he huffs out retorts that go from being teasing to being genuinely hurt. The captain stops after a time, apologizing, but Twilight blows him off, excusing it as teasing while clearly looking hurt.

 No matter what he tries though, food, cuddles, gentle words and careful movements, nothing will win the rabbit over, and when they again land in a world that none of them recognize, it’s too late to keep trying.

...

 Ravio blinks down in surprise as the rabbit that sits in his living room. It’s raining wildly outside, and the animal is positively soaked, so he can hardly deny it access, but even so, it’s not every day that woodland creatures are entering the house.

 …..Alright, not anymore. Not with Mr. Hero having gone missing.

 Only Sheerow flies about the house, chirping and singing as he helps Ravio with the housework and keeps the merchant comfortable, and while he doesn’t ind in the least being with only his bird friend, he does rather miss the constant presence of birds outside the windows and deer wandering in from the forest to graze in the front yard. Mr. Hero never minded them, claiming that the beasts kept the grass short, but Ravio knows his friend, and he’s seen Mr. Hero dozing while surrounded by woodland creature enough times to know that the affection the animals feel for his friend is mutual.

 Even so, Mr. Hero isn’t here, so there really shouldn’t be any forest creatures flocking into his house, especially not one that’s going through his things.

 “Hey! Stop!” The merchant protests, darting forwards and scooping up the creature in his arms, only to be met with familiar violet and golden eyes staring back at him. “Mr....Hero?”

 The bunny squeaks something that sounds like it might be in the affirmative, and Ravio stares.

 “How did you...” He’s leveled with an unimpressed stare that is all he needs to see to know for sure it’s his friend. “Were you cursed?”

 There’s a firm nod in return, and concern bubbles in his heart as the merchant holds his friend a bit tighter. “Can you reverse it?”

 Violet eyes roll, but Mr. Hero isn’t panicking, and he even points towards the chest in the corner where he keeps most of his adventuring things, which itself is enough reassurance that one of his many items (some of which are Ravio’s own handiwork) will do the trick to turn him back.

 “Oh good.” Ravio sighs, sagging in place and taking In his friend properly. Again, Mr. Rabbit Hero points at the chest, and he’s getting the idea that his friend wants him to let him go so he can change back but...

 Soft fur rubs at his fingers and the feeling of a small body held in his hands is just so pleasant!

 “One minute, please? Just one?” He pleads, turning on all the power he can as he aims a sorrowful look at his friend. “Your fur is so soft and I- can't I pet you for just a little bit, before you change back?”

 Mr. Bunny Hero sighs, but the huff and nod are easy to read and Ravio clutches his friend to his chest with a cheer. “Thank you Mr. Hero!”

...

 “Apples? Apples?” Wind’s voice is breaking by now as he calls out into the underbrush. The last switch had them all separated, and while the heroes have successfully regrouped, they’ve failed to be able to locate their fuzzy ninth member.

 “He’s got to be here somewhere!” Wild whispers, scratching at his scars worriedly and prompting his mentor to gently push his hands back down again, it does no good, the habit that died with fur to play with reappears in its absence, and Twilight’s pelt is too cumbersome and heavy to be carried and stroked while they walk.

 “Apples?” Sky chokes out, staring at the path before them, but nothing can be seen except a lone traveler who stalks along stiffly towards them.

 “We’ll ask this traveler.” Time sighs, eyes heavy with worry as he pushes to the front of the group, raising a hand in greeting. “Ho there.”

 “Ho.” The traveler returns, sharp violet eyes staring at them all from under pink and rose-gold bangs that peek out from beneath a blue cap. “What brings fighters like you into these parts?”

 “we’re looking for a rabbit.” The captain says, taking no consideration for how ridiculous he sounds. “Normal size, but as pink as a cherry tree, you can’t miss him.”

 Hopeful gazes turn to the stranger, who’s gaze darts away for a brief moment. “Sounds like my boarder’s pet.” There’s a strain to the man’s- or is he a boy?- voice as he speaks. “He disagreed a few months back and only came back yesterday. His-His owner was delighted.” The stranger speaks slowly, flushing slightly as he meets their eyes with an awkward attempt at a smile.

 “He...he already had a family?” Wind and Wild both droop, and the other’s all sigh in collective disappointment as the stranger shifts before them, the light catching in the hilt of the sword on his back.

 “Yeah... Sorry if you got attached.” The stranger winces, incredibly awkward as his eyes dart over them all, as if desperate to find anything else to talk about. “Why so heavily armed, just to look for a bunny?”

 “Monsters.” Sky answers softly, eyes downturned as he twists his cloth in his fingers.  

 “Aren’t those for heroes and soldiers to bother with? Not common folk?”

 “We aren’t exactly common.” Time explains. “Monster fighting is sort of our job.”

 “Uh huh.” The stranger shifts back on his heels. “Last I checked, the only person the royal family was hiring to get rid of monsters was me, and I don’t recall hearing any changes about that recently.”

 “Why you?” Wild tilts his head to one side, curiosity mingling with his sadness as he takes in the stranger.

 “Hero’s duty.” The other drawls,, scowling slightly as his nose scrunches up, wiggling the tiniest bit in distaste.

 “You’re a hero?” Warriors deadpanned, disbelief tainting his voice as he looked from pegasus boot clad feet up to red and green tunics, fluffy golden hair and sharp violet eyes. Said eyes stared back with an intensity that was strangely familiar, irritation glinting in their depths.

 “Unfortunately, yes.”

 And just like that, the Hero of Legend joined their group.

...

BONUS

 Twilight blinked down at the pink rabbit in front of him in shock. “Apples?”

 Apples- Legend? -The pink bunny- shuffled his feet, ears twitching as violet eyes flickered from the rancher's blue eyes and back down to the ground. “Um...chances that this is kept a secret?”

 Disbelief pained the Ordonian’s face. “Do you know how much they’ve missed you?”

 “I was right there.”

 “And you never told them?”

 “Well, you never owned up to being Wolfie, not last time I checked!” The bunny hero shot back, nose shivering in frustration.

 “They don’t need to know about that,” The rancher dismissed. “That sort of power isn’t something I feel comfortable sharing.”

 “Well newsflash,” Legend scowled. “I didn’t either. And it’s not like I could change back to prove myself or something, I was cursed! Anyways, can you imagine how absolutely off the hook crazy I’d sound if I just waltzed up to you and said ‘hey I’m the Hero of Legend and I’m also the bunny that’s been with you for the last two months.  was cursed but now I’m not, want me to join?’”

 Twilight scowled. “Fine. Valid. One question first.”

 “Deal.” Legend groaned.

  “Why did you never let me pet you?”

 “I’m sorry, what?” Violet blinked up at the rancher in confusion.

 “Why did you never let me pet you.” Twilight repeated simply.

 The veteran bunny stared up at him, blinking slowly. “You are a freaking wolf. Did you not notice? I may not have known it at the time, but do you think a rabbit can look at a wolf and go ‘hey look! New friend’?” At the wolf shifter’s silence, Legend scoffed. “Yeah. That’s why.”

 “Okay, valid.” Twilight nodded. “But one last thing, why didn’t you never talk?”

 “Cursed.” legend rolled his eyes. “The nature of this one is different, I’m just my soul's reflection, not an actual animal, there’s a difference, and it’s one I’d like to not have to worry about for much longer. Now, how do I change back?”

 “Well,” The rancher offered a weak smile. “We’re gonna have to ask Sky for help.”

The others are laughing and it’s making him mad. Usually, he’s just smack them over the head (a much good as it would do, curse his weak arms) but usually he can reach that high.

Right now, he can’t.

Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit

He’s a little pink rabbit sitting in the middle of a circle of heroes who are all laughing at him, and more than anything he wants to hop his freaking furry tail over to Warrior’s horrid choice of footwear and bite the shit out of the captain’s ankles; he deserves it (the rancher does to).

“How did this happen?” Hyrule wheezes out, and even though he wants to be, Legend finds that he can’t be mad at the healer, not when the kid’s face is flushed with laughter, his smile bright and carefree, golden gaze watery under the force of his bell-like laughter as it pricks at Legend’s sensitive ears.

“I don’t know!” Twilight wheezes from where he’s leaning against Time, hearty chuckles exploring from him unabashedly as he looks down at Legend. “We were scouting around the camp and when I turned around,” He gestures weakly to the veteran, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Rabbit!”

Legend scowls. He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute he was walking and the next he was tumbling head over paws on the pathway. He’d refused to let Twilight carry him back to camp (if only to try and maintain whatever dignity he had left) and had waited hopefully for Twilight to retrieve the Master Sword for him, only for Warriors to stumble upon him with the darkest expression he’s ever seen on the captain’s face.

Warriors’ expression at seeing a rabbit might very well haunt Legend’s dreams for ages to come, and had prompted a squeak of fear from him that had sent Sky darting up from his seat. “Legend!” The Chosen Hero had shouted, concern in his sky-blue eyes as he had skidded to his knees at Legend’s side, cautious hands scooping him up and inspecting him for injuries in the brief moment where he was too shocked to protest. Of course, he wouldn’t stand it for long, and after pawing at Sky’s fingers with angry huffs and squeaks that he was going to hope the others would forget about, he had been released back onto the ground.

Which landed them where they were now, surrounded by cackling heroes as they stared down at the fluffy pink ball of fur that was their salty veteran.

“Wow vet, I’d’ve never guessed, a rabbit?” Warriors wheezes, eyes full of mirth. “No wonder we don’t get along!”

He rolls his eyes and growls as best as he can as a rabbit (not like he can growl anyway, but he tries none-the-less). “Just hand over the Master Sword so we can get this shit over with.” He squeaks, ignoring how his growls sound more like honks and chitters than anything threatening.

Sky looks at him oddly, as do several of the others, none of them (save Twi and Sky) apparently expecting him to be able to speak in this form, but the Chosen Hero obliges regardless, reaching back for the Master Sword and carefully settling it within Legend’s reach.

The cool cross-guard is comfortable under his paws, even if it is too big, and he sighs in relief as the power of the blade flows over him. In a moment, his form will disappear into the light and reappear, whole and Hylian, and fully capable of kicking some rancher ass.

Just a moment....

A second more...

He blinks his eyes open, violet flitting across the blade in mounting concern as he takes in the fluffy pink paws that are where his hands should be. Why isn’t it working? Why is he still a helpless rabbit?

“That’s weird.” Twilight and Sky both murmur, exchanging a worried glance as the Skyloftian retrieves the blade. He lunges after it though, not giving Sky a chance to inspect the blade and instead startling him with the weight of a rabbit in his lap as pink paws reach up to grasp the sword hilt again.

“Fi, explain.”

The sword spirit’s voice rings clear and cool in his head as Sky lowers the blade further, better into his reach. He hardly processes the motion, so focused on the words, which is perhaps why he doesn't question the stabilizing hand that lowers onto his back.

“Young Master,” Fi chimes softly in his mind. “The forces which have transformed you are not dark in nature. There is a 76% chance that they are in fact, of nature themselves. As such, my blade is unable to undo the curse. You will likely have to wait until this curse runs its course.”

“How long.” He grates out, nose shivering in irritation as his ears flick back, brushing gently against the Skyloftian's fingers and making Sky gasp softly.

“Processing....There is a 49% percent chance that this curse will fade and return you to your Hylian form in approximately three days' time, and there is a 27% percent chance that it will take a week for said change to occur. Additionally, there is a 15% percent chance that the curse will not fade, and a 9% chance that this curse will make you explode.”

A strangled screech escapes him and he doesn’t even realize his paws have released the sacred blade until they are grasping at his ears, tugging with all of the pent-up emotion inside of his body as he processes the words. Never mind the exploding bit, he might not turn back? There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll turn back in the next few days?

Sky’s long fingers drag through his fur gently, rubbing soothing circles over his back. “What did she say?”

“Three days!” He tugs his ears again. “Three days of being utterly useless and helpless, and it’s not even certain that I’ll turn back! I could be stuck like this forever! I could explode!”

“Exploding doesn’t seem likely-” Twilight attempts to calm him, but it only makes him tug his ears harder.

“Fi said it might happen!” He shouts back, high pitched and squeaky, and hating every second of it. He buries his face in the fabric beneath him, his rabbit heart pounding with panic and cold dread washing over him as the words continue to spew from his mouth. “And if Fi said it could happen than it might! And we were about to go into battle too! What’ll happen if someone gets hurt? I can’t help anyone and there's absolutely nothing that stupid bunny could do and-”

Someone’s scratching his ears.

Long fingers rubbing just right between them and Legend is helpless to tell them to stop because he’s too busy melting into a puddle in Sky’s lap at the sensation. All thoughts flee as he lets Sky’s hands drive away all worries. Should he be worried that he’s rendered speechless and vulnerable by something so simple? Probably, but Sky seems to know just how to place his hands and Legend can only hum in appreciation at the feeling, a squeaky purr escaping him as he leans into the sensation as Sky hums something soft and soothing under his breath. The vibrations carry down his fingers and tingle down Legend’s spine, calming him further.

“Cute.” Twilight's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and he’s pulling back from Sky’s hands and glaring up at the rancher with all the fury he can fit in his now tiny body.

“He’s not wrong, Kit.” Time chuckles soft and low, and Legend whips his head around to stare at the man.

“Oh no, you are not giving me a nickname!”

“Yeah Time,” Sky’s voice is low and mirthful as he speaks, hand once more settling on Legend’s back as he lifts an arm to block the vet from launching himself at their leader. “He’s my descendant, if anyone should be giving him a nickname it’s me.”

“How about Nibbles?” The sailor grins, leering into Legend’s space with enough mischief in his gaze to kill a Lynel. “I mean, the vet is always chewing us out.”

He forgets for a moment that his growls sound more like chirps in this form, baring his teeth at the sailor as he attempts to frighten him off. It doesn’t work, rabbits aren’t made to scare off bigger animals “So help me sailor I-”

Large hands scoop him off the ground and suddenly he’s being cradled in Sky’s arms. Like a baby. The indignity! “Calm down, Bun, he’s just kidding.” Sky’s crystal eyes glimmer with genuine concern as he looks down at Legend. “And we’ll find a way to change you back, I promise. The goddesses wouldn’t have let you change like this if it was for the worse. You’ll see,” Sky bops his nose with a smile entirely too pure. “It’ll be fine.”

Legend would like to argue that point, the goddesses have never shown any particular interest in what’s best for him before, and most of them seem to find humor in ruining his life time and again (except the Golden Trio, they’re alright he guesses, especially Din), but Sky looks so certain and Legend’s honestly too tired to start a big fight about Hylia again. (Heaven knows the last time he made Sky mad he nearly shat himself at how terrifyingly defensive Sky could get about those he loved). It doesn’t matter anyway, he supposes, as Sky’s already standing and making is way back to their main camp, gait just smooth enough not to jostle his reluctant passenger as Legend slumps in place.

He might as well let this happen, at least until he can figure out how to fix it.

It’s official.

Legend hates being a bunny.

They’ve settled down for dinner and as if to mock him and all that he loves, Wild has been struck with the inspiration to make his absolutely heavenly radish stew. The one that Legend would literally sell some of his rings for because it is that good.

And he can’t eat it.

He tried, and that attempt resulted in both himself and Sky covered in broth, the thick liquid clinging to his fur now as he sits on the ground with some raw fruits and vegetables instead. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to eat it again without being forced to remember nearly drowning in the stuff.

He feels like a baby and he hates it.

He’s soaked himself and his ancestor and food and Warriors still isn’t done tittering about it.

He really hates being a bunny.

The others have nearly stepped on him numerous times, simply because they aren’t used to having to watch underfoot, so every time someone walks over to Wild to get seconds (why did the Champion sit next to him and Sky in the first place?) he has to back-peddle onto his haunches to avoid being crushed under heavy boots and even heavier feet.

Add to that that Wild and Wind both subconsciously reach out to pet his bedraggled fur every few minutes and he’s absolutely fed up with this shit!

At least the Champion was willing to lend him something to dry his fur off with, and even if he hates it, the spare brush Warriors has on hand does a decent job of detangling his fluffy hide. If he melts a little in Twilight’s lap as the rancher goes over him with the brush than no one says anything (although both Sky and Time have infuriating matching smiles on their faces).

But then it’s bedtime and Time is sorting through his things to try and make sure that no one person will have to carry all his stuff, and he’s reminded once again how utterly useless he is in this form. It only makes things worse that he knows that the others will be burdened with his bags, and considering his top speed at the moment can only be held for short sprints, he’s pretty sure the Old Man is going to have someone carry him too.

The very idea makes him puff out his fur in irritation.

At the very least though, he doesn’t have to worry much about how he’s going to handle the cold nights, Sky’s already taken his beloved sailcloth and bundled it into a little nest, and the minute Twilight is done with his fur the Chosen Hero is scooping him up and laying him in it (absently, he wonders if Sky might have a stronger paternal instinct than Time and if his own small form is triggering that). The fabric is warm though, and it’s nice. If Sky curls up around him in the middle of the night though, well, he supposes there’s not really much he can do about that.

Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.

The Skyloftian may look soft and cuddly, but he’s got an iron grip when he’s asleep, and it’s only by the pure squishability of his current form that he’s able to escape (Sky will be disappointed when he wakes up, he knows, but even so, Legend doesn’t intend on staying a rabbit, not for a whole week, especially when there’s monsters out there.

Perhaps the thought of said monsters should dissuade him, but it doesn’t. He knows now what triggered this change, and he’s determined to hunt it down and trick it into changing him back, he just needs to escape his babysitters for a hot tic in order to do so.

It’s a lucky thing that Four and Warriors are both so drowsy that the feather light step of a rabbit doesn’t catch their attention as the two sit on watch, and Legend’s able to creep over to his bag (positioned with Twilight’s things) and dig through it until he finds what he needs.

You can’t go making deals with the fae unless you have something of value, or those tricksters will rob you blind and steal your first born. Not that Legend ever intends on having kids, but on the off chance that he ever did he’d rather they didn’t have a shitty life because he made an error in dealing with a forest sprite.

Come to think of it, how powerful are the forest people of this time?

Warriors looks seconds away from walking up to Sky’s sleeping form and throwing Legend as far as he can into the distance, and it’s making Four nervous.

Rationally, they know that Warriors wouldn’t consciously do such a thing, but they also know how much Warriors hates rabbits in general, and that the captain’s initial instinct at seeing them is to toss them away from himself as far as possible (never mind how rare a real rabbit is, Warriors’ time is apparently full of them and Warriors hates them). They’ve heard the story, how the captain was made to hunt rabbits down across his world and return them to their homes, the fact that he did so by throwing them is a bit concerning considering the delicate bone structure of the animals, but it’s not Wars’ fault that he doesn’t know that.

All the same, Four would feel a bit more secure if they knew that Wars wouldn’t be doing such a thing.  (Rationally, they know he won’t, but rationality is only so much of the equation).

“I’m gonna check on the vet.” They murmur softly to their companion. Somethings not right and they hope it’s just Warriors’ previous retellings of his own rabbit-escapades eating at them and not something else. “Sky’s got a grip like a vice when he sleeps and I don’t want him getting crushed.”

Never mind that being small sucks when it’s this cold out. Four desperately hopes that it won’t rain tonight (although the air tastes right for it).

“Rabbits are tough little things,” The captain chuckles. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

Vio wrenches control from the others, gaze flat as he stares out at Wars. “You do know most rabbits can’t survive being thrown, right? They’re not like cats, if they land wrong their done for.”

The captain pales slightly but doesn’t say anything, and they take that as their cue to stand and make their way over to where Sky and the vet had bedded down for the night. Sure enough, Sky is curled up around the sailcloth nest he made for Legend like a child curled around their favorite stuffed animal (or Red with any of the rest of them), but at the very least it doesn’t look as if Legend would have been smashed, just caged. They wince, the vet doesn’t sleep well on a good night, but waking up to being trapped? That is...not good. There’s a reason they never force him to join everyone else when Red takes over and calls for a cuddle pile; everyone knows that the most Legend will stand is letting Hyrule hold his hand while he sleeps, and even then, the vet will still pull away when he finally does fall asleep.

Sky shifts (he’s a heavy sleeper, but all the same he moves a lot), arms wrapping tighter around the bundle in his arms. Tight enough that the sailcloth gives way. Sky’s face screws up in his sleep, wrapping even tighter around the bundle as if seeking out some form of resistance.

Four panics. Bunnies are delicate creatures and Sky is strong, did he just crush Legend?

Only, looking closer, Vio points out that there isn’t even a hint of pink amidst the fabric, and when Four dares reach out to test the bundle himself, they find that there is nothing within its folds.

“Four?” Warriors’ voice is tinged with concern as Four stand back up from his crouch, brows pinched together as he scans over the camp. “Is something wrong?”

“Legend’s missing.”

The captain’s brows shoot up, but thankfully he doesn’t bother with questioning them, instead hoisting himself to his feet and making his way around the camp, an ever-growing frown marring his features as he looks around. “Did he choose to sleep with Hyrule instead?” It’s a soft murmur, likely only spoken aloud because Wars is too tired to stop it before it reaches his mouth, but Four’s eyes flick over to where the Traveler sleeps regardless.

“I don’t think so.”

“Look,” Warriors groans softly, not loud enough to wake the others, stopping at Twilight’s bedroll and motioning to the bags stacked near the rancher's pillow. “His bag is open.”

“You don’t think he climbed inside of it, do you? We’d never find him!”

The captain gives him a look, blinking once before shaking his head. “No! But he was clearly trying to get at something.” Royal blue eyes turn to stare out at the forest. “What are the chances he went back out there, alone?”

Four hesitates, fingers drumming on his thigh as the colors swarm in his mind. “I don’t know, but I should probably check.”

“We need to watch camp.” The older hero frowns.

“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”

“You can’t go alone, Four, it’s not safe.” Wars reminds him, concern glinting in his gaze as he turns back to the smithy.

“Fine.” Blue’s the only reason they roll their eyes, they swear. “I’ll take Hyrule. If the vet’s fallen down a hole or something then we can take care of it immediately.”

A smile breaks out across Warriors’ face, even if it is slightly strained. “Funny how that’s even a risk now.”

“Don’t I know it.” Besides, at least Hyrule seems to have a second sense for these sorts of things. Like Sky and Twilight, he has a knack for tracking down the others, especially if he needs to find Time for whatever reason. Four’s seen it themselves, it’s uncanny, but incredibly useful, so they’ve never really questioned it (Vio has, Vio has questioned it enough to give them a head-ache).

It’s the work of a minute to shake the traveler awake, as he’s one of the lightest sleepers of them all, and it takes even less time for them to be off, the simple words “Legend’s gone” being enough to send the traveler springing up and following closely after Four, one hand on his sword as the two of them make their way back into the depths of the forest.

Legend should know better than to try and make a deal with the fae.

Hyrule can recognize the look of a fairy about to claim her prize in an instant, and it appears Legend is about as clueless as a bunny can be about the loophole that he must have left open in whatever twisted deal the two have concocted. Anger burns in his blood as a whisper-hisses through his teeth, a few words all it takes before he’s zipping between the two of them, wings beating furiously as all six of his eyes stare into those of the other with nothing short of pure fury.

“Mine!” He hisses, darting forwards in a fake charge at the other, wings whirring angrily as his eyes stare at them “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!” His voice contorts and buzzes, his aura flickering brighter and sharper as he zooms down to hover over Legend’s ears. “MINE.”

“What is your claim?”  The other chimes smugly. “What promise or service marks him as yours? Where is the Mark that makes a mortal the charge of a fae, hmm? Show it to me and I will release him to your care.” Glistening teeth glimmer as multiple eyes glisten with malice, jealousy over a potential catch making the fairy’s gaze spark dangerously. “Else ways, leave us be, our deal is near set and you have no business to interrupt it.”

“His true form,” He hisses. “There is my Mark on his hand. The Triangle, my symbol.” He hisses through bared teeth, every eye slitted and glimmering with fury. He can’t lie, not even if he tried, but he’s fae and they’re more skilled than anyone at finding tricks to get around things. The triforce is his symbol, something he’s recognizable by in his world, but it’s not only on his hand, the others bear the same mark and even if it isn’t Fae in origin, it's from the Scared Realm and none can deny that it sets them apart. Anyways, the Fae know mortals by their markings, this should be enough of a claim to make her renounce her dealings with Legend.

No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.

“What is your proof? Can you show me?” She taunts.

“My power isn’t that strong.” He hisses. “You do it and then you’ll see!”

“And give him what he asks without receiving my due? Oh no little Half-Blood.” She glares at him. “Give me Good Reason or leave alone.”

“He is goddess born.” He hisses out finally, grasping at straws. Mother only taught him so much of Fae law, but surely there’s something against touching those blessed by the heavens, right? “Hylia’s child descended. To touch him or any other of Mine is to plead wrath from the Scared Realm.” A sly smile slides over pointed teeth. “Would you wish that on Yours?”

She pales. “Mark your own in all forms, Halfling. This would not happen if you did.” It’s all she cares to say though, zipping away without another word.

“Do I want to know what I just avoided?” Legend’s voice croaks up at him, faint and pitchy all the same as he looks up to the fairy above him.

“I don’t know. But never, and I mean NEVER, make deals with fae again. Not even me! You can’t break promises or be too careful, you never know what they’ll do.” Two of his eyes glance over his shoulder to ensure that the other Fae is gone for good.

“I was trying to be careful.” Legend huffs, his breath sending Hyrule higher over his head for a moment before the fairy regains his balance. “They’re clever little-” He cuts off, violet eyes narrowing and bunny nose shivering as he looks up at Hyrule again. “You’re a fairy.”

His aura dims slightly, wings drooping ever so slightly as he looks down at his mentor. “Yes.”

Legend stares, violet piercing and sharp. Hyrule has never noticed the hint of gold that bands his irises, nor the flecks of blue that glisten under the effects of a fairy’s glow, and it only makes the Veteran’s stare all the more intense.

“Huh.” The bunny huffs softly. “That’s pretty neat, ‘Rulie.” There's no anger, no accusation in his tone, and when Hyrule brings his gaze up to meet that of his mentor again, all he sees is fondness and intrigue. “Is this new? An item? Were you- no,” Legend’s ears prick forwards, his interest obvious as he leans forward. (Hyrule wonders if the vet realizes that he's smelling him.) “You speak like They do. This isn’t new.”

It’s not a question.

“I’m, uh, half fairy.”

Legend nods slowly. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” At the dimming of Hyrule’s glow the vet pulls away, eyes flashing with panic for a moment. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, ‘Rule, just-” He cocks his head long ears flopping to one side sloppily. “It’s not something I’d think you’d want to hide. Seems pretty useful to me.”

And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.

“I told Four.” He nods to the Hylian standing over them. The smithy’s eyes flicker various colors, his lips pulling aside into a slight smile as he crouches to be closer to their height.

“Now I’m taller than both of you.” Four chuckles softly, crimson tinged gaze sweeping over the two of them.

“Don’t get smart.” Legend huffs. “This is a curse, not my true form, you’d be tiny too if you were cursed into an animal form. Probably smaller than me!”

There’s a knowing look in the smithy’s gaze, but he holds his silence, smile still present as he carefully looks over the both of them. “Well, if neither of you were harmed in that little exchange, we should get back to camp. Wars will be in a huff if we don’t back with you soon.”

Legend huffs his own huff, but doesn’t object, gathering up the glimmering item he had brought as a toll (Hyrule thinks it might be a precious stone of some sort) and slowly hopping after the Smithy as he turns back towards camp.

They’d have made it to camp rather quickly too, if the sky hadn’t chosen that moment to weep out it’s sorrow with the world and the evils within. Great sheets of rain, the likes of which they usually only expect from the Champion’s Hyrule, flood down over them, and Hyrule thanks all things Holy that Legend is there to break his fall as the water soaks his wings and sends him careening towards the earth. Four yelps in surprise, hands fumbling for his hood as he tried to fend off some of the wet (it does little good, they’ll be soaked in seconds in this downpour.

“In here!” Legend squeaks, the rabbit hero already darting into the nearest hollow he can see that isn’t clearly inhabited. It’s a tight squeeze, and Hyrule nearly knocks his head on the bark of the opening, but Legend gets the both of them under, and despite the mushrooms that seem to fill the space with a soft light, it’s a comfortable fit for the two of them. The ground beneath is laid with moss, purposefully it would seem, and Hyrule lets himself side down into it with an appreciative hum.

“What about Four?” He murmurs softly, looking out of the crevice through which they entered. It’s still pouring buckets, and unlike them, the smithy has no dry place to hide (heavens knows the camp will be soaked. He feels terrible for the others).

“What about me?”

Violet and gold turn upwards as twin gasps escape the two. Four, in all of his minish glory, waves back at them from where he’s perched on top of one of the mushrooms. “Minish portal.” He smiles cheerily (but Hyrule can Taste the nervousness rolling off of him).

“Wait, both of you get small?” Legend’s ears stand up straight, brushing the roof of their shelter. “Smaller?” He corrects himself.

Four rolls his eyes. “It was get soaked or get small. I don’t fancy catching a cold, so I chose small.” He wrinkles his nose (it will never stop being cute), hopping down from the mushroom and free falling into the dampened fur of his rabbit-companion. “Now shut up and let me warm up, you’re bigger than I am and since you left me out there to soak I think I can get away with using you to warm up.”

Hyrule’s laughter rings soft and sweet through the hollow, Legend’s vaguely offended expression only adding fuel to the fire as he flits closer. “The vet doesn’t really mind cuddles, do you Ledge? Besides,” He lets his wings fall still, embracing the warmth of Legend’s soft fur as he lands in it lightly. “We just saved his ass.”

Legend turns his head to stare at the two of them, but even in rabbit form his lips twitch with amusement as he shoves him nose into Four’s personal space, making the minish-hero tumble down into the moss with a faint yelp. “You’re soaking.”

The smith grins back, plunging right back into the warm pink fur. “That wasn’t a refusal.”

“One time.” Legend huffs, ears flicking briefly. “One time only, smithy. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Trust me,” Four sighs, plonking down against the vet and leaning into the plush fur around him. “I will.”

It takes mere seconds before Four has drifted off, and Hyrule is reminded that the smith was keeping watch for most of the night before they had gone out looking for Legend. Guilt, sickly-sweet, yet bitter, taints his tongue as Legend stares down at the tiny form curled against him. Hyrule sighs. “I guess he was more tired than I thought.”

Legend only huffs, ears flicking back and nose shivering as he noses the smithy’s sleeping from. Four’s dropped off like a stone, completely dead to the world as Legend curls around him (not dissimilar to how Sky had curled around him earlier that night), easing the gentle shivers of the smith, who noses deeper into Legend’s pelt. Tiny paws coming up to catch hold of pink fur as Four curls up, feather-like tail brushing against the top of his tiny nose, moved only by tiny snores that make Legend’s ears twitch and Hyrule giggle softly.

“The rains still pouring down.” Legend hums, gruff as he can be in his current state, but Hyrule knows it’s all an act. “You might as well get some sleep too, ‘Rulie.”.

And while any other time Hyrule may have argued, Legend lifts his head to offer the space next to Four, and if Legend is offering cuddles, especially with his silky soft fur as a barrier against the cold, Hyrule knows he can’t resist it.

Four’s paw catches hold of him the instant he settles next to the smithy, and before he knows it the two of them are both bundled up in each other while Legend curls himself around them, breath soft and soothing as his heart pit-patters away inside of him.

That’s how they wake the next morning.

Wolfie’s nose shoved against the crack in the bark is what pulls them back from the land of dreams, and the soft snuffling bark followed by Time’s voice is what gets them up on their feet. It’s an awkward thing, emerging into the light again to find five heroes and a wolf staring down at them in a mixture of confusion and concern, but nobody seems to be able to bring themselves to scold when Four sneezes.

“We got caught in the storm.” Legend huffs when he sees the soft expression on Time’s face.

Wolfie huffs, and, much to the surprise of the currently shrunken heroes, they can hear the laugh in it. “Of course you did.”

 Mr. Captain Hero Sir wasn’t wearing his scarf.

 The one constant Ravio knew he could always count on during the war, was that the captain would be wearing that bright blue scrap of cloth with all the pride in the world, no matter what the circumstances (good grief, one time he’d stumbled upon the man bathing and the scarf had been the only thing that saved them both from embarrassment). But today, he wasn’t.

 The heroes had come to stay at Mr. Hero’s house again after a long battle, and Mr. Captain Hero Sir was currently sitting on the couch in the living room, one arm resting across it’s back and his feet propped up on the table. A scowl marred his fine features and his neck was horrifyingly naked.

 “Mr. Captain Hero Sir! Where is your scarf?” The words were out of his mouth in a moment as he looked around the captain to make sure it simply hadn’t fallen off or been laid aside (things the captain would never let happen, ever. He’d once been bleeding out and still managed to keep the trailing blue fabric out of the mud.)

 “It’s shredded.” The captain sighed, a bitter look in his eyes as he motioned down to the arm hanging from a sling around his neck. “And I’m currently unable to mend it.”

 The thought of the captain not having a scarf was so utterly horrible, simply unthinkable, that Ravio didn’t even think about what he was doing, instead bounding over to plonk himself onto the couch and quickly unwind his scarf before rewinding it around the captain’s neck (he had a dozen of these things anyway).

 “There! You can’t be without a scarf.”

 Mr. Captain Hero Sir smiled fondly, fingers reaching up to gently stroke the fabric. “And you can?”

 Ravio shrugged. “I have a dozen of those, keep it, it looks fabulous on you!”

 The captain’s eyes sparkled brightly, a familiar cockiness erupting within. “Are you kidding? I make everything look good! Even the Vet’s fashion choices would look fabulous on me!”

  Ravio sniggered. He’d heard and seen plenty of the goods from Hytopia, and he wasn’t entirely sure that Mr. Hero even knew what fashion was. But then again, he was just a simple Lolian; for all he knew, things like bomb outfits and heart shaped collars were absolutely acceptable and normal in this world.

 “But where is your scarf, Mr. Captain Hero Sir?” He asked after a moment, cocking his head on one side as the man looked at him oddly.  

 “Don’t you ever get tired of saying that? You can call me Warriors like everyone else you know.”

 “I know, Mr. Captain Hero Sir, I don’t mind.”

 Mr. Captain Hero Sir blinked. “O-kay.” Shaking his head, he answered. “Legend has it. Since I can’t use my dominant hand, he said he’d stitch it up for me.” The captain hero nodded towards the corner of the room, and Ravio followed his line of sight.

 Mr. Hero was perched in that Lolia-awful rocking chair that had been in the house since Nayru knows when. It was a horrid thing in his opinion, old, out of style and absolutely stiff and uncomfortable, and he’d shoved it into the furthest corner of the room ages ago. Mr. Hero loved it though, although he never said why, and he didn’t seem to mind that it was now nearly next to the fireplace all the time, even if he did have to pull it out of the corner to properly rock in it.

 Mr. Hero sat with one leg tucked underneath him and the other one hanging down to gently push at the floor, making the big chair rock steadily. Mr. Captain Hero Sir’s scarf lay in his lap and a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose, a needle in his hand as he dutifully labored over the brilliant blue fabric of the famed scarf.

 “His eyesight is terrible.” Ravio snickered to the Captain.

 “But his hearing is perfect.” Mr. Hero’s voice rang clearly across the room, violet gaze darting up to look at them disapprovingly over the top of his spectacles.

 The minute he looked away, merchant and captain shared a grin, only to burst into muffled laughter.

...

 Mr. Smithy and Tune are cold.

 It’s obvious from the way the two huddle in place at the kitchen table as everyone enjoys the meal that Ravio and Mr. Hero have pulled together (Mr. Hero is hesitant to let even the finest of chefs in his kitchen for some reason, despite having stated that Mr. Champion Hero is a very good cook and better than him (at cooking, life, or heroing, he does not specify)). Tune- Wind has all but attached himself to Sky’s side, using the bigger hero as a heat source as he slurps down his warm stew, and Mr. Smithy has bundled himself against the Mr. Rancher.

 It’s only autumn, but both of the smaller heroes act like it’s the start of winter with the way they shiver and rub at their arms.

 Mr. Hero’s only response when he asks is to sigh, but when he presses, his pink haired doppelganger eventually explains. “Their Hyrules were never corrupted, so they’re used to warmer weather most of the time, if not always. The mist from the ocean is the worst Wind knows, and heaven only knows if Four could survive a proper freeze.” Mr. Hero shakes his head, wiping the last of the broth from their meal off a plate with his dish-rag. “If they need something, they know to ask.”

 But Mr. Hero isn’t really that cold hearted, he’s worrying too if the way his brows furrow and the lines around his mouth deepen is any indication. “I offered blankets, but they don’t want them.”

 “Does this happen often?” He muses as he takes the plates from Mr. Hero to dry and put away, and to his displeasure, his housemate nods.

 “When we come here or to Sky’s Hyrule, yeah. Usually, Wars will bundle them up in his scarf, or Sky with his sailcloth, even Twilight shares his fur, but...” Mr. Hero’s ears twitch irritably (truly adorable how they do that, although he’ll never say as much). “Sky’s asleep with his cape, the wolf pelt is a bloody mess after that battle, and I haven’t finished mending Wars’ scarf.” The ears flap again. “That thing is so dang complex and Warriors apparently hasn’t the faintest about the proper cloth to use to mend it. He used new material to mend a hole! Brand new material, Ravio! It’s an awful state and I swear if Styla could see it she’d faint dead away!” The vet huffed as he plunged another dish under the sudsy water of the wash tub. “Using new cloth on a worn scarf, it’s like he wants the thing to be ruined...”

 Ah yes, Mr. Hero’s rants. There’d be no righting this one until he’d fixed the problem, and considering he’d only been torn away from the scarf that lay peacefully sitting on his rocker in order to make food, it was quite likely that once his kitchen was clean again, he’d be right back to working on it.

 Ravio smiled, Mr. Captain Hero Sir would be quite pleased.

 His gaze traveled over to where the hero in question was sitting. The captain and Tu- Wind, were talking on the couch, the younger staring nearly longingly at the rocker and the scarf on top of it.

 Kid really liked that scarf, huh? If Ravio remembered right, half the time during his adventure with Mr. Captain Hero Sir, he’d constantly seen either Mask or Tune hanging onto it.

 Somewhere inside of a bunny head, an idea sparked and green eyes brightened excitedly.

 He’d donned a new scarf just before dinner, but it wouldn’t do quite right, so instead, he darted off to his room, much to the displeasure of his dish partner as his rag flew into Mr. Hero’s face and left his housemate spluttering indignantly.  

 “Ravio! You didn’t finish-”

 “One sec!”

 Mr. Hero’s grumbles followed him out of the kitchen, but faded as he darted into his room and towards his wardrobe. It was the work of moments to select two of his largest scarfs, and less time than that to dart back out to the living room and wrap one around each of the smaller heroes.

 “There! Snug as a kit in a quilt!”  

 Two small heroes stared down at the black and purple fabric that now draped around their shoulders, smiles brightening their flushed faces as Tune buried his face happily in the fabric with a bright hum.

 “Thanks, Ravio!”

 “Thank you.” Four’s eyes glimmered warm brown as he sunk into his seat, only the top of his face and his hands visible beneath the striped fabric.

 Mr. Captain Hero Sir’s eyes sparkled as the man looked up at him, and Ravio fought the blush that rose in his cheeks as he fiddled with his own scarf (he’d mess with his sleeves, but he’d shed his robe to help do the dishes, and his undershirt wasn’t nearly long enough to fiddle with). “Don’t mention it, it’s-” He chewed his lip for a moment before a smile broke loose, the one Mr. Hero said was cheesy and fake, the one for when he was trying to sell things. “It’s a complimentary gift for exceptional customers and/or guests!”

 “We’ve never bought anything from you.” Four deadpanned, eyes glinting with a smile Ravio couldn’t see past all the scarf in the way.

 “Yet!” Ravio chirped back, and darted back into the kitchen to help Mr. Hero finish doing the dishes.

...

 Mr. Champion keeps rubbing his scars.

 The heroes had left for a short spell, traveling off to fight more monsters only to be dumped in the orchard a week or so later (Mr. Hero said it’d been a month and a half for them, but by his time it was a week). And when Ravio said they’d been dumped in the orchard, he meant in the orchard. He’d been busy picking some of the ripened apples before the birds took them all (most of the wild birds knew better, but still, it was the principle of the thing, fresh fruit was rare in Lorule) when a shout and the snapping of branches had sounded all about him.  

 Ravio had shrieked in surprise, thinking that he was alone only to find (once he’d removed his hood again) that there were nine heroes hanging from various tree branches around him, and Mr. Hero himself was hanging upside down, one foot caught in the branches, as his face dangled inches from Ravio’s own, a scowl darkening it as a string of mumbles escaped his room-mate.

 He couldn’t stop himself, he kissed Mr. Hero’s twitching nose.

 Mr. Hero shrieked in surprise, jerking in place and effectively loosening himself from the tree, falling all over Ravio in the process. It was worth it, Ravio giggled as he lay on the ground. Mr. Hero was so like the bunnies in Lorule and their noses simply demanded to be kissed.

 Laughter and grumbles sounded around them, the heroes pulling themselves down from the trees around them.

 Captain Hero Sir Jr. moved with surprising ease, despite his heavy armor, clambering down the tree with the same grace that Mr. Champion did most of the time. Some things never change, he could still see him climbing up onto Mr. Captain Hero Sir’s shoulders in the same manner (only now he rather doubted either of them would attempt to do that anymore, Captain Hero Sir Jr. was much bigger now).

 It felt entirely too natural to lead them all up to the house, Mr. Hero trailing at the back with a bushel of apples in his arms. Settling them all down in the kitchen was easy as could be, and he and Mr. Hero worked quickly to set some fresh apple cider to boil before starting on a meal for everyone.

 He missed not having them all around, it was going to be awful dull when they all had to go back to their worlds when this adventure was over again.

 He was determined to enjoy the moment for that very reason while they all sat about in the living room, sipping apple cider as Mr. Hero had settled down in his blasted rocker, spectacles on his nose and more mending in hand. He never would rest until the light was faded, and Ravio had half a mind to take out his knitting (he was still currently short three scarves) before he decided to simply flop down on the nearest open spot on the couch and just enjoy his cider.

 Except, Mr. Champion was sitting in the seat beside him.

 The young hero kept rubbing at his scars, eyes distant, and despite the numerous amounts of times that either Mr. Captain Hero Sir or Mr. Rancher tried to move his hands back down to the still full mug he was cradling in his other hand, Mr. Champion (he was younger than Ravio though...would Mr. Be an appropriate title for him?) kept reaching right back up to rub his neck and face.

 The scars were enflamed, harsh red and puffy where they peeked out from beneath the collar of his shirt, and it made Ravio wince to even think of how he’d acquired such injuries that would scar so.

 He only winced more with every drag of broken nails and rough finger pads over the skin, but Mr. Champion- Wild? He could think of him as Wild right? He was kind of the kid’s uncle in a weird way- didn't seem to even notice that he was doing it. Cornflower blue eyes stared unseeing into the fire, face still and only his hands moving.

 Mr. Captain Hero Sir sighed, worry pulling his lovely face into shadows as he grasped Wild’s hands again. “Wild, hey, no more of that, okay? You’re hurting yourself.”

 Fingers twitched, but no other movement came from the young Champion until Mr. Captain Hero Sir (wait, was Wild also Captain Hero Sir Jr.? Or was he Champion Hero? Oh fiddlesticks, he wasn’t sure anymore) let go, and then broken nails moved right back up towards swollen flesh.

 Ravio shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

 Mr. Hero had spaced out before, did it a lot when the sun set or when he was outside, but he never scratched like that. He sang and fiddled with his rings. If Wild Champion Jr. Sir (oh heavens) did something like that, it would be fine, but this was... this was rather unsettling.

 Ravio shifted in his seat, curling around his mug as Mr. Captain Hero Sir had to reach out to stop the wild-child's hands from reaching the inflamed wounds (the last scratch had broken skin, and a thin trail of red has appeared).

 It was without a thought that he acted, pushing his mug into the captain’s hands and promptly looping his scarf around Wild Champion Hero Captain Jr.’s (oh Lolia help) neck.

 Thoughtless fingers nose just as before, but this time, they brushed against soft fabric. Ravio tensed, dearly hoping that his scarf would not be ripped off or simply pushed aside.

To the surprise of all of them, rough fingers brushed over the fabric, paused, and gently stroked its material. The Champion’s face did not move, but slowly, long fingers ran down the fabric, rubbing it between their tips as cornflower blue eyes blinked slowly. In an instant, the young hero’s gaze was lost to sight as the fabric was nuzzled with all the fondness of a cub nuzzling their parent.

 “He likes scarves, of course he does.” Mr. Rancher chuckled wearily, a tired smile playing over his features as both he and Mr. Captain Hero Sir sat back (but not before Ravio took his mug back).

 “So he does.” Mr. Captain Hero Sir sighed, eyes fond as he watched the hero in question curl up on the couch, face lost in purple fabric and bare toes the only moving part of the kid. The wiggling toes were almost like a dog wagging its tail, but weirder, still, he wasn’t one to judge.

 Mr. Captain hero Sir caught his eye. “Thank you, Ravio.”

 “Customer loyalty.” He murmured softly into his mug.

 He caught the way Mr. Hero and the others stared at him though, and he could only be thankful his hood shaded his face enough to hide his pleased blush.

...

 Mr. Rancher needs to wear more color.

 It’s like looking at the photos of Mr. Hero from just before he’d come around. Mr. Hero always fussed at him for going through things, but he couldn’t help but laugh at how odd his room-mate looked with black hair and dark clothes. “You dyed it?”

 “For safety reasons. How many people have you see in Hyrule with pink hair of all things? It was a dead giveaway!”

 “But you’re the hero?”

 “A hero whose face was plastered on every wanted poster in Hyrule. Still is in some cases.” Mr. Hero had grumbled, folding the last piece of newly clean washing and throwing a pointed glare in his direction. “Life on the run sucks. I was thirteen and just wanted to be ignored.”

 A glance at the dark haired but smiling youngster in the photo and back up to the bitter pink haired hero he knew told him (even if Mr. Hero hadn’t already) how well that wish had been fulfilled.

 But seriously, those photos at least showed Mr. Hero with some color. The most Mr. Rancher wore was that horrid sash and obi, and the orange and blue looked simply terrible with his color scheme, something that, when brought up to Mr. Hero, his friend seemed to agree with, stating that ‘he’d never get into Hytopia’s capitol looking like that’.

 Ravio had never been to Hytopia, but based on the stories and mannerisms Mr. Hero took on after that adventure, he can only agree.

 Originally, he’d hoped he could simply find something among his wares that he could sell to Mr. Rancher, but that proved to only be so effective, after all, when one sells weapons and items, it’s hard finding a normal piece of clothing amidst all the blessed or charmed pieces.

 Oh well, he was counting on ending up sharing the rest of his scarves with them all anyway.

 It wasn’t any dramatic or particularly touching moment when he walked up and slung a clean scarf around the rancher’s shoulders, but Mr. Rancher, after initially starting, smiled as he touched the sun-warmed material. Of course, that expression quickly faded into one of awe as the hero squeezed the fabric lightly.

 Mr. Rancher’s eyes lit up like a dog being given a new toy (Ravio wasn’t stupid, he knew a dog when he saw one) and the man proceeded to continue squeezing and petting the springy fabric with eyes sparkling as if Ravio had just handed him the stars themselves.

 He was down to two scarves now, but it was worth it.

...

Mr. Traveler Hero is small.

He is small, and wild, and the clothes he’s wearing are nearly too small. The traveler is a growing child (never mind that he’s still a teenager himself) and he’s out and about in nearly threadbare garments that leave Ravio shivering at the mere thought of wearing.

And this is the other hero who grew up in a corrupted world where the sun doesn’t shine as bright as it should and the winters are always too long.

Ravio doesn’t think twice when he sees the first signs of cold in the young hero. He’s got two scarfs recently made, and he’s only too happy to share.

Purple and black stripes nearly drown the young hero when he walks over and wraps not one, but two of the comfiest scarves he’s ever made around the youngster's neck.

Like Mr. Rancher, nothing is said or done immediately, but Mr. Traveler Hero smile at him shyly, holding up a hand and scampering over to his bag.

The pair of polished stones he’s given don’t make much sense, but he catches sight of Mr. Hero and Captain Hero Sir Jr. Both smiling over at the two through the doorways.  

“Thank you.” He murmurs warmly, tucking the rocks in his pocket.

“Thank you.!” Mr. Traveler smiles in return, eyes twinkling in the shade of the room and scarf tails flapping like the four wings of a fairy as he spins around to show them to Mr. Hero.

...

 Captain Hero Sir Jr. has nothing comfy to wear.

 Once more, the heroes had been whisked away, and once more they’d appeared at the house weeks later, looking exhausted and utterly soaked.

 The chill autumn rain might be to blame for that.

 Mr. Hero hadn’t even protested that... Wild (he’d just call him Wild, he couldn’t do this title thing this time) had bustled off into the kitchen to warm some tea, and instead promptly collapsing in all his soaked glory onto the couch.

 The other heroes followed suit, and Ravio (like a good host) immediately hopped up and fetched some blankets. Mr. Rancher was already stoking the fire, and with a bit of work, Ravio was able to help Mr. Her grasp what was left of his own steaming mug of cider (his hands were quite the state in this bitter weather) before popping off to the kitchen to brew more of the sweet apply goodness to share with the heroes.

 Armor and over-clothes had been stripped off, sitting wet and dripping in one corner (Mr. Hero eyes it with distaste, knowing just as Ravio did just what that would be doing to the floor) but neither housekeeper said anything, Mr. Hero nursing his cider and letting its warmth sooth his gnarled fingers, and Ravio puttering about with a kettle and mugs to share with everyone else.

 Blankets had been pulled from the shelves and were cast around quaking shoulders as chattering teeth uttered breathy thanks to the purple-robed merchant.

 There was nothing like being thanked for good service, and Ravio beamed as he passed between them.

 That smile faded however when he noticed Captain Hero Sir Jr.

 The man sat in a thin linen shirt and under-armor, looking far from being near the level of comfort that the rest did in their undershirts and pants (or a dress in Mr. Hero’s case).

 Come to think of it he’d never seen Captain Hero Sir Jr. dress in any comfortable manner since he’d come along behind Mr. Hero that first time since they’d started this adventure. Did the poor kid- er... Man, not have anything comfortable to wear?

 While the heroes slept that night, in the two bedrooms and sprawled across the couch, Ravio kept Mr. Hero comfortable, sitting before the fire with his knitting needles while Mr. Hero repaired yet more damaged clothing (poor mister Chosen Hero’s sailcloth had been damaged somehow).

 Usually, one or the other of them would eventually remind the other to go to bed, but both were so wrapped up in their work (Mr. Hero started singing even, that goddess ballad Miss. Princess told hm about) that neither seemed to remember to check the clock, or even to go to bed.

 Come morning, Ravio finds that he has fallen asleep wrapped in the tails of the scarf he’d been making, and Mr. Hero has become entangled in his mending, a peaceful smile on his face, worn fabric brushing his cheeks and spectacles teetering precariously on the tip of his nose.

 Mr. Chosen Hero is the one who wakes them up, stirring awake with a violent sneeze, but he smiles fondly when he lays eyes on them, opening his arms in an offer of a cuddle if either feels inclined to return to sleep. Neither does, but Ravio appreciates it, and even if Mr. Hero doesn’t say as much (quite the opposite really) he knows his friend does too.

 The day is normal, as far as a day with nine heroes in the house can be, and with the rain still pouring, they spend their time cleaning, although Mr. Hero shoos them all away after a time because they’re not doing it the right way (AKA Mr. Hero's very practiced manner of cleaning and organizing). It’s after Mr. Hero had shooed them all into the main room while he organizes the basement (thank goodness, it's an awful mess down there) that the talk starts.

 It’s cold out, and most of the heroes have donned the scarves they’ve been gifted over time (Ravio isn’t blushing, he’s not). Smiles shine and laughter rings as they explain to their brothers how they’d some to have them.

 “And he just... threw t at me! Not a word, not an explanation, just came up and tossed it over my shoulders.” Mr. Rancher chuckles. “Kinda like how my ma would do when I was a tot, jist wrap it up and ‘round soon as the cold weather came a’creepin’ up.”

 The others nod, smiles fond. Ravio beams as he lights the candle set near the masks on the wall.

 “I had one too once,” Captain Hero Sir Jr. Muses aloud. “Back in the war, you remember, Wars?”

 “Do I ever.” Mr. Captain Hero Sir smirks. “I used to tie you up with that thing when you got too rowdy.”

 “You and the general both.” Captain Hero Sir Jr. Chuckles, soft and deep and so different from his nearly witch level cackle that Ravio remembers.

 “What ever happened to it?” He asks curiously, blowing out his match and turning to move towards the rest of the group.

 Captain Hero Sir Jr. Smiles at him, eyes far older but far more at peace than they used to be. “I outgrew it. It was a child’s scarf, even if it was a bit big at the time. I considered bringing it, but it just doesn’t do much anymore.” A thin smile pulls at his features, almost guilty as he admits “I didn’t take the best care of my clothes as a kid.”

 Well, that doesn’t matter over much. Ravio smiles at his young (old) friend, and around him he can hear the others whisper and laugh. They know what’s happening, and Captain Hero Sir Jr. Does too if the twinkle in his eyes is to be believed, so Ravio makes a point of flourishing his gift with all the fuss he can before reverently draping the garment around the tall man’s neck. The eldest hero has to stoop, even from where he’s sitting on the couch, so that Ravio can reach, but it only adds to the mock reverence as Ravio adorns another bare neck with one of his toasty scarves.

 “Mind you take care of that one,” He scolds lightly. “I was up all night making it.”

 “Yes sir.” Captain hero Sir Jr. responds with a playful smile in his eyes, even if his face is the picture of obedience.

 Giggles sound around them, and despite hating it, Ravio takes the only seat left available (he really hates that rocker) and curls up. “You all be quiet now, I’m tired and need a nap.”

 “Okay, gramps.” The sailor whispers faintly, a giggle in his tone as titters and chuckles erupt.

 Strangely, it doesn't take too long for Ravio to doze off, especially when Mr. Hero settles in beside him and starts to rock the stupid chair, humming lightly as fingers work over another project, the light buzz of activity all around them as Ravio allows himself to be carried into dreamland.

...

 Mr. Chosen Hero has caught cold.

 He’s not surprised, not with how drenched the others all were day before last, but the Skyloftian is shivering madly, miserably sniffing into handkerchiefs and trying his best to avoid drinking the nasty herbal teas that Mr. Hero claims are good for people. Ravio doesn’t care if Mr. Hero drinks them, but for pities sake, drink black tea if you’re going to drink tea! What sort of decent being are you if you’re just drinking plant water?

 “Legend, I’m serious, I don’t-” Mr. Chosen Hero breaks off coughing. “I don’t think tea will-” Another cough, nastier than the last. “I don’t think it will help.”

 “Trust me.” Mr. Hero already has a small table pulled up to Mr. Chosen Hero’s side, tea and handkerchiefs both set carefully on top. “Tea’s just what you need. Eucalyptus does wonders for a cold.”

 “He’s right.” Mr. Traveler Hero chimes in, gaze warm and sleepy as he sips some of the tea himself. “And it’s got a calming effect.”

 Mr. Hero cocks a brow. “What are you, ‘Rule, a koala?”

 No one knows what that is, except Mr. Traveler Hero, but it doesn’t seem to matter much, as Mr. Chosen Hero breaks into another coughing fit and bundles a blanket closer around his shoulders, voice hoarse when he speaks. “I wish it’d stop raining. I didn’t even realize-” A cough sounds and is followed by a sniffle. “I didn’t realize the surface got so wet.”

 And Ravio sees where this is going, the shivering hero, the gentle atmosphere. He doesn’t bother waiting for Mr. Chosen Hero to sniffle again, he just wraps a scarf around the man’s neck, tucking it in close enough to keep the heat in.

 The smile exchanged is silent, and Ravio is thankful that the others aren’t about at present to tease, only Mr. Hero and Mr. Traveler Hero are here with them, and neither says a word as they sip their leaf water.

 “I’ll make you some real tea.” He murmurs softly, offering a wink and a gentle pat to the knee before he’s off towards the kitchen.

...

 Mr. Hero doesn’t have a scarf.

 It was glaringly obvious, as whenever the rest of them appeared at the house, they'd all be wearing their Ravio gifted scarfs proudly, smiles on their faces as the ends trailed or dragged after them (despite that, they were all in perfect condition).

 But Mr. Hero didn’t have a scarf.

 He was never going to get one either.

 They’ve all just returned to the house (it’s been two months since the last visit) and the snow outside it up to Ravio’s waist in places. It took him ages to shovel himself out of the house, but the harvest of apples is in and the bees are well prepared for the winter, and Mr. Hero finally tidied the cellar enough that they have room for food storage aplenty.

 Cider and tea are brewed as the heroes gather, fluffy socks and scarves on full display as they sit around the fire.

 Mr. Hero is shivering.

 Curious glances are thrown at both himself and Mr. Hero as the heroes drink their beverage of choice, concern in their gazes as Legend eventually gets up to pull the most ridiculously bulky quilt in the entire house over his shoulders. He’s all pink in the face and he’s shaking like a leaf, and it’s only because he won’t hold still that Ravio hasn’t attempted to try and help him hold a warm mug enough for his fingers to relax.

 Mr. Hero moves like a man thrice his age, if not more, and he creaks worse than the roof does in the wind outside.

 “Where’s your scarf, vet?” Mr. Captain Hero Sir murmurs softly, one brow raised as he watches Mr. Hero fumble with the quilts edge.

 “My what?”

 Glances are exchanged among the others. “Your scarf? The one Ravio gave you?”

 “I don’t have a scarf.” Mr. Hero answers, dropping the quilt again with a scowl that makes his nose wiggle.

 “But” Cornflower blue dart between himself and his housemate. “Aren’t you two friends? How do you not already have a scarf? Even Time did!”

 “It’s a customer service thing.” Mr. Hero murmurs. “I’m already a loyal customer, so he doesn’t waste resources on trying to earn my loyalty. That, and I don’t wear purple.”

 He shakes his head, loosening his scarf as the eyes of the others twinkle, but rather than taking it off, he only loosens one end, before wrapping it tightly around his friend’s neck, fluffing up the quilt in both of their laps, and settling a warm mug of cider in Mr. Hero’s hands.

 “Nonsense!” he chirps, trying not to be hurt at the obvious surprise on his friend's face, so he muses Mr. Hero’s hair instead. “You have every item I offer except this scarf. Why would you keep buying from me if you get it? I have to keep you from having one until I get something better in, otherwise business will plummet!”

 Knowing smiles are exchanged amidst the others, but Mr. Hero just sighs and shakes his head, leaning slightly into Ravio’s side as he sips his cider.

 A bitter expression overtakes Mr. Hero’s face. “You forgot the cloves.”

“Four, how tall are you?”

Don’t kill him. Green whispered, whether to himself or to his brothers none of them knew.

Why would he even need to know that? The grouchier voice in his head huffed out as hazel eyes shot up to meet the captain’s blue.

Was that particularly necessary? Vio groaned, and if he’d had a physical form the color in question would likely have just flopped over tiredly.

“Four foot four.” They answered curtly, turning their gaze back down to the sword in their hand as they continued to work over its length.

Warriors chuffed out a strangled sort of noise across from them, whether it be from pain, surprise or laughter they didn’t know, and as long as the captain didn’t push, they’d give him a little grace. The poor man was in enough pain as it was, and it really would be a shame to have him writhing on the ground if they kicked him in some... painful places.

“Really?” The man wheezed. “Please tell me you’re joking?”

They rolled their eyes.

Permission to kick him in the nuts?

One minute, let me think about it.

Pities sakes you two, we are not kicking the captain! Vio scolded. We’ll dye his hair while he sleeps or sew a patch on his tunic while he walks or something, not...oy vey.

“I’m four-foot-five.” They corrected aloud. “Happy?”

Sharp eyes met the captain’s again, four voices fighting over whether to cause harm or not. “Huh.”

Guys, look at him! Red huffed. He’s not even able to sit up straight! Give him a break, this one time?

Agreement rang in their mind. Wars was in pretty awful shape. The man had pulled his back while trying to heft a wounded Twilight through the forest the other day, and while he’d insisted the entire time that he had it handled, he’d come to regret it the next day when he woke up nearly too sore to move. They all teased Time about being an Old Man, and it was well known that Legend’s arthritis gave him trouble on some days, but neither the vet not their leader had ever moved as slowly as the captain this morning when they’d been on the road, and Time had had to call an early halt simply because Wars was clearly in so much pain.

The man currently lay on his stomach on the ground at the edge of camp, trying to stretch out his strained back and staring as Four with an odd look in his eyes. “Could you do me a favor?”

Could you not mock our height?

I thought we liked our height?

We do, but we don’t need to be teased for it!!!

“What do you need?” They eventually settled on, setting their sword aside and giving the captain their full attention.

“Stand on my back.” Warriors answered.

They blinked, startled. Once, twice, thrice, four times at the man. “Pardon?”

“Stand on my back.” Warriors repeated himself, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But-”

Is he bonkers? Captain, we are not cracking your spine to put you out of your misery? Blue frowned, confused.

We’d hurt him doing that, why would he even ask?

This is Warriors, he’s not known for having all the lights on a good day.

“Aren’t you in pain?” Red managed to take the forefront, worry spilling into his voice as he stared down at where the captain lay on the ground.

The man smiled, shaking his head slightly only to wince and instead offer one of his charming smiles. “It helps. Just trust me, ‘kay?”

And what were they supposed to do? Even Legend had stepped up to offer help with the pain this afternoon, not that it would do much good for Warriors’ specific problem, but it had earned the vet a warm chuckle and a head ruffle, resulting in much squawking and insults as the vet protested the action. Wild had searched his slate for supplies to make a cure, and Time had called a halt for the day’s travels entirely. Sky had even offered what little help he could provide, but while offers of aid had come from everywhere, there hadn’t been anything that had worked.

But Wars was claiming that actively stepping on the injury would help it, and as absurd as it sounded, the captain seemed utterly confident in it, eyes almost pleading as they shifted where they sat.

“It won’t, I don’t know, mess up your back at all? Are you sure-”

“Goddesses, Four! It’ll be fine.” The captain huffed desperately, just do it, please?”

Now they understood why Warriors could charm discounts and special deals out of merchants and inn-keepers, his royal blue eyes looked utterly pitiful and almost tearful as they stared up at them, pleading and wide. The effect was ruined though when Wars added a tiny little pout that sent Vio reeling with laughter as Blue and Green stifled their own, Red cooing softly in their head.

“Alright.” The laughter of three of the four colors spilled over in a light chuckle as the smithy pulled themselves to their feet, stepping over hesitantly and setting one foot on Warriors’ stretched out back.

“Go on.” Wars prompted, chuckling fondly. “It won’t hurt me, I’ll tell you if it does, okay?”

That didn’t help at all. They weren’t big, they knew that, but they weren’t as slight as they looked, they were smithies after all, and they were a solid little brick of muscle mass. Warriors may be certain it would be okay, but they sure weren’t.

“Four, I’m literally begging you. Step on me.”

The smithy’s nose wrinkled and they pulled back. “That is incredibly weird sounding.”

“Step.” Warriors ordered.

“This is so weird!” A nervous laugh fell from their lips. “How does this even help?”

“Just do it!” The captain groaned. “It helps, I promise. I can’t explain it, but it does.”

One tentative foot pressed against the captain’s back again, only for the smithy to back off, earning a huff in annoyance from the captain. “Four-”

“Let me take my boots off first.” They murmured, shivering off the awkward feeling that came from stepping on of their brothers. But they could only avoid Wars’ pleading gaze for so long and once their shoes are properly put to the side, they had no valid excuse to not ‘help’ the man.

How does this even help him?

Do we care? We have an excuse to step on him!

Vio, I think you spent too much time around Shadow. Stepping on people isn’t funny.

It’s funny if it’s Warriors. Vio sounded particularly satisfied with himself at the moment, and the others could only sigh at that, finally giving in to the captain's request as Vio pushed the body forwards until they are standing, fully, on Warriors’ back.

“Oh, yes, thank you.” The captain’s voice comes out in a relieved sigh. “A bit lower if you could- that's the- yes, right there. Oh gosh.” Blonde hair met the dirt as their resident “pretty boy” let his face fall to rest on the ground. A satisfied sigh escaping him, albeit muffled by the earth. “That is so much better. Thank you, Four.”

“How does this help?” They frowned, staring down at where the man spread out on the ground, utterly limp and incredibly boney under their feet.

“No clue.” Comes the muffled reply, no attempt made to explain as the captain continued to let himself melt into the earth. “But it always works like a charm, so I don’t question it.”

Always?

“Who do you usually have step on you?” They ask, standing awkwardly on a boney spine any trying their hardest to keep their balance so they don’t slip and tumble onto Warriors’ head and give him a concussion on top of everything.

“My kids.” Comes the easy reply, as if the words don’t send them reeling enough that they almost do fall. “Mask jumped on top of e once to try and wake me up. I wasn’t asleep, but it was a tough battle the day before. Come to find out having a smallish person stand on you does wonders! My younger siblings used to do it too, but then they all hit growth-spurts.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” They chuckled easily, finding a comfortable placement for their feet as Warriors’ back rises and falls with soft laughter.

“Believe it or not,” The captain rumbles, the vibrations trailing up their legs and making them stifle a giggle. “I’m the short one in the family. The eldest, but the Hylia forsaken shortest.” There’s very nearly a pout in the man's voice and they failed to hold back their laughter as they look down at him.

”You’re the shortest?”

“To my eternal torment.” Comes the groaned reply, and all the colors can do in reaction is laugh.

Later, when the others finally look over and see what’s happening, there are shouts and concerned looks from the heroes when they see their shortest standing on the previously sore and aching back of their tallest, but for now, Four gets to tease the captain for being short; something they never thought would ever happen.

Epona’s song drifted through the cool morning air.

The sound brought a smile to Time’s lips as he snuggled closer to the warmth pressed beside him, breathing in the clean morning air and tugging the blanket up higher on his shoulder.

He really didn’t want to wake up.

Although, he didn’t remember opening the bedroom window last-

Wait. They weren’t on the farm! They’d gone to sleep in the forest last night! There was no window to leave open, and no Malon singing or lying beside him. He shoots awake, pulling himself up with the intent of looking around camp, only to have something pull him back down towards the ground.

Looking down, he feels his scarred heart melt. Twilight twitches in his sleep, arms locking around his shoulders, sleepily groans sounding as the lad hangs off him, cold nose pressed to his neck. Tiny, whuffling snores sound from his pup as the younger man nuzzles closer, and he can only chuckle softly and rub his protégé's back lightly as he settled back down to let Twilight sleep.

He is curious who had been singing though.

A single blue eye takes in the camp as he props himself up slightly on his bedroll, careful not to disturb Twilight as he takes in where each of his boys lay.

Legend and Hyrule lay curled into each other, Legend clinging to his protégé while Hyrule’s hands lay buried in his mentor’s silky hair, a smile on the face of the younger and drool on the face of the elder*. Warriors lies close by, sprawled across his bedroll and snoring fit to wake the dead, utterly content and comfortable in the safety of his brothers and proving it with his noise. Opposite the three, Wind and Sky curl close, Sky’s sailcloth and their blankets thrown over the two leaving only Four’s left foot visible from between them.

His pup curls close to his side, one leg thrown over his waist and arms locked tight around his shoulders, holding him in place and preventing him from rising, but the bedroll on his left...

Epona’s song continues to dance through the camp, and Time’s single eye finally falls on Wild, the cook busily scrubbing out his favorite cooking pot on the very edge of camp, the familiar tune dancing off of the young one’s lips, suds rising halfway up his arms and hair thrown back in a messy bun that reminds Time strongly of Lullaby’s own hair when the woman loses patience with it. Decorum be shot, the queen will throw her own hair back with a simple hair tie in front of the whole court, ignoring how it makes her appear and continuing her duties without hair hanging in her face and her neck free from the oppressing heat of its constant curtain.

If ever he doubted that Lullaby and Shiek were the same person, each time he sees his princess behave in such a way, he’s reminded that, different time lines or no, there is still the same fiery spirit and passion for change in his friend that there had always been, and it is something he is happy to see reflected in some of his boys, along with Malon’s stubborn personality and incredible strength and kindness.

Maybe he is looking for the traits of those dearest to his heart in the boys that had pushed their way in. Be it by force or by accident as the hero might be, but it brings him no small joy to see Lullaby in Legend’s sharp glares or in Warriors’ brisk manner when planning. In Hyrule’s swift fingers or Wild’s sharp and calculating eyes. To see her in Four’s dark eyes, always thoughtful, always knowing, or in Sky’s burning passion.

It’s a wonder to see Malon in Wind’s boisterous cheer, and in Twilight’s rolling laughter. To see his wife’s mischief reflected in Wild’s luminescent gaze or her love of life in the way Legend cares for his orchard and animal friends. And the glimpse of unbelievable strength in Four’s easy lifting of weapons as big as himself, or the echo of her in the firm set of Warriors’ shoulders always makes him smile to himself.

There are others at times. Saria in Hyrule’s smile. Kafai in Wild’s laugh. Romani in Wind’s eccentric ideas, Nabooru in Legend’s firm stance and heavily lidded gaze, Navi in Sky’s light scolding and Tatl in Four’s acerbic wit. Glimpses of home and family echo around him, pulling close what reflected it and making them home and safety themselves. And over it all he can hear the winding of tunes that both tore apart and hold together the memories of his youth.

And now, one such tune, one especially close to his heart, one meant only for the Lon family and their famous steeds, dances over the edges of the camp and past the ears of the sleeping heroes as Wild lifts his cooking pot and carries it over to the fire, singing softly with faint and muddled words, many of them wrong, mumbled or tripped over, but sung all the same as food winks into being from the champion’s slate.

“-ne-ver far from home. Epona, Epona, can you hear hmm hmm, singing from in my heart, hmm-hmm-hmm.” Mumbled hums break the words as the champion works over the fire, measuring and stirring. “Something if you’re wandering far away hmm-hmm, listen for this melody calling you! Re-mem-ber that you have something-or-other to complete! I trust hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hm!”

The muddled version of the song makes him chuckle softly, startling the younger hero into spinning around, the spoon that Sky carved him brandished like a weapon as the champion prepares to defend himself against whatever he thinks may have startled him. Face beet red and growing redder.

“You have a nice singing voice.”

Wild looks instants away from combusting on the spot. “hOW- How long were you awake?”  Gone are the stumbling yet melodious trills of the cook’s voice, instead replaced with a panicked squeak only made worse by his age.

It was like the first time he’d successfully startled Shiek, both of them both still so young that their voices broke under pressure, and the thought makes him smile as he meets the startled child’s gaze.

“Long enough.”

Wild’s ears droop, quivering with shame and embarrassment as the kid’s shoulders hunch up to brush against them, eyes darting down and refusing to meet Time’s as boot scuffs the dirt softly. “I thought you guys- that is- I thought it was-” Cornflower blue glances up, meeting his own for only a second before darting away again. “I thought it was safe.”

Safe? What does the cub- Understanding dawns and he finds himself chuckling low and soft. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“It’s not that.” The champion whispers. “I just- I don’t like people...hearing.”

Oh.

Also familiar, also so very familiar. Only this time he doesn’t see his wife or sisters and brothers, or mother or friends in the flushed face of the hero before him.

A squeaky voiced young hero, who’d pulled his cap over his face more times than anyone would guess when looking at his scarred face now, had time and again been encouraged by a darting blue fairy.

“You’ve got a lovely voice Link. No shame, come on!”

Of course, fairies always like hero their Chosen sing, but Time himself had, admittedly, stumbled over notes and keys nearly as badly as his pup still does, but he’d lacked any of Twilight’s playful self-confidence to be able to own up to the harsh squeaks and shrieking chirps that erupted out of him whenever someone else tried to get him to sing, or caught him singing.

He was fine, when Navi was fast asleep or the Kolkiri were half a forest away, or when it had just been himself and Epona, trailing through the dark woods in search of a light he’d have given anything to hear encouraging him to keep trying to raise his voice. It’d been the first time he’d really tried to Sing for his fairy, but it hadn’t done anything but tempt over two fairies who already had their own Chosen, a skullkid who’d pulled him along into a world where his voice had hidden with his face behind mask after mask.

It took Malon catching him singing while at work in the barn before he’d been able to et the guts up to actually try for her, but it’d been worth it when he hadn’t had to fumble with fancy words to ask her to marry him, not when there was a song and a dance just for that that he’d learned for Kafai while in Termina. Malon made his heart sing, but she also made him sing, and while her voice far outdid his own, it always made him happy to hear the two ringing together.

He’d once hoped, once he found out, that he’d one day hear Twilight’s voice rise up with theirs on some starlit evening, but after hearing his pup sing...

He loves Twilight like a son, but heaven forbid he ever force his wife to listen to that tone deaf mess!

Wild though, oh, Malon would love to tempt Wild into singing and guide him along until his voice could ring with hers. The child had the voice of a fairy, ethereal and inhuman, but in a way that made him feel light and airy and almost like he could fly.

“Well...” He wants very much to stand and walk over to Wild, but he was still trapped and Twilight was both a brick and incredibly strong, leaving him trapped until his pup is good and ready to wake up, something he fully believed Wild would prefer to prevent happening for the time being. “I can’t not hear it, Wild.”

“Try?” The kid pleads, eyes wide and face nearly purple from embarrassment.

“It’d be an insult to whoever created the voice to do so!” The words spilled out before he could stop them. He was supposed to reassure the kid, not make him panic more by pressuring him! “That is- Wild, you have the voice of an... I suppose Legend would say “an angel” whatever those really are. To be frank, I wouldn’t choose to forget it if I could.”

“I’m not a good singer.”

“Bullshit.”

The newest hero’s gaze shoots up to meet his own, shock written across scarred features at hearing him swear. “You-”

“Don’t tell Warriors.” He whispers with a wink- blink- whatever, it was meant as a wink, and hopefully Wild would read it as one.

“You swore.” Wild breathes

“And you lied.” He returns. “You’re a good singer. Confident, maybe not, but I thought I heard Maon when I first woke up, and unless you want to tell me that my wife has a poor singing voise-”

“No! Of course not!”

“Settled then.” He smiled. “You’re a good singer.”

The champion stares at him, ears twitching slowly and eyes blinking as he processes the words, before a light scowl pulls at the kid’s scars as he crosses his arms. “It- no!” At the grin he shoots at the kid, Wild whines softly. “Dad!”

Both freeze at that. Or rather, Time blinks repeatedly, shocked, and Wild’s hands fly up to his mouth, eyes wide and horrified.

“I’m sorry!” Wild blurts out, still hiding behind his hands. “I slipped I-”

Laughter, deep and rumbling enough that Twilight is happy grumbling against him in response, sounds through the camp as Time throws his head back. He can’t stop it, but he will embrace it. This is the best morning he’s had in ages and Hylia have him if he doesn’t take a moment to enjoy it! “You’re fine, Cub. I’ve been called much worse than that more than once. Unless of course,” He grins at the young hero, brows pulling down in a mock stare, even if he can’t hold his smile back to be convincing. “You think I’d be a bad one?”

“No! You’re an awesome- You’re going to be-” Wild is somehow redder than he was before and he stomps his foot almost petulantly as he catches on to the laughter that still rumbles in Time’s chest. “Time!”

“I don’t mind.” He rumbles out, and more than anything he wants to walk over and ruffle the kids hair, or wrap him in a hug, but he’s trapped by Twilight, and instead can only lift his free arm in an offer that Wild hesitates to take. He’s almost considering lowering his arm and rescinding his invitation when the champion barrels into his side, face buried in his shoulder as Golden hair fills his vision.

“I hate you.”

“Such disrespect to your father.” Time scolds playfully, gently pinching Wild’s ear and making the champion giggle at the touch. “What will your Mamalon say?”

“Ma-” Wild sits up again, staring down at him in confusion. “Mamalon?”

His lips pull into a smile again, something he’s done more this morning than he has nearly all week. “Something Legend calls her, which I’m stealing because she and I both like it.”

The champion’s eyes trail down to where scarred fingers still tangle into his tunic. “Can I call her that too?”

“Well,” He chuckles. “If I’m your Father Time, I think it’s only fair she’s you Mamalon.” At Wild’s smile he smirks. “Ad she’ll be delighted to learn you already know the family song, if only in part. Her mother wrote that for her you know, and I’m sure she’d love to teach you the rest of it. She taught it to me after all, and I used to sing as poorly as Twilight!”

Wild’s mouth opens and closes a few times as a light blush colors the kid’s cheeks before he shyly nods. “I’d- I think I’d like that.”