#legend x reader

Four

“Ow,” Four winced, touching the side of his head.

“You ok?” you turn as you walk, shifting the bag on your back as you do.

“Fine,” he mumbles. “Just a headache.”

“Ok, give me a sec,” you take your arms out of the straps of your bag, swing it around to the front of your body, then put the backpack back on backwards so you can dig through it.

“I don’t need a potion,” Four says quickly. “Honestly, it wouldn’t even help. It’s just a headache.”

“Four, if you’re complaining about a headache, it’s serious,” you continue digging through your bag, remembering the various injuries he’d taken without so much as a wince. You guess black smiths were just built different. “I’ve got some Tylenol. One pill and some water and you should feel right as rain.”

“A potion wouldn’t help,” Four says again. “It’s not an injury.”

“Good thing this isn’t a potion, then,” you take out the small white bottle, then proceed to struggle with the child-proof cap. 

“I’ve seen you give that to some of the others,” he points at the bottle. “They eat it and then they feel better. Potion. Maybe not liquid, but still.”

“It doesn’t actually heal anything,” you explain, grunting as you try to open the cap. “The thing causing the headache will still be there. It just blocks the pain.”

“How would there be no pain if the injury is still there?” Four raises an eyebrow.

“It’s like… how do I explain this,” you muse. “So, your nerves send signals to the brain. Think of them like little mail men, taking messages from where the pain is to you. This blocks those signals. The mailmen are still there with their letters, but now the letters can’t get to where they’re going, so no pain.”

“So I’m full of tiny little mailmen,” Four smirks.

“Sure,” you laugh, then finally pop the cap off the bottle and shake a single pill out of the container. You hold it out to Four. He takes it, looks it over, then pops it into his mouth.

“Wha–!?” you sputter, your hand still reaching for your water bottle. “Did you just dry swallow it?”

“Yes?” Four winces at the after taste. “Why? Was that wrong?”

“I mean, no, it’s fine,” you close your bag, still bewildered. “It’s demented, but you won’t, like, die.”

“Who are you calling demented?” He grins.

“You just took a pill without water!” you cry. “Who does that!?”

Time

Time was old. Mentally, yes, he was probably like 60 or something as far as you or anyone else could figure, but physically as well. Most of the other heroes were in their twenties or younger. Time was in his thirties, and with the added stress of hero work he might as well have been forty.

He had old injuries that still ached, and the past strain on his body had definitely sped up how quickly he developed arthritis. You noticed the way he would massage his hands occasionally. Or wince when he woke up. It was your job to notice these things after all. 

Unfortunately, heroes were stubborn and selfless. Most attempts to help them were met with “I’ve had worse” or “so-and-so needs it more.” And from what you could tell, Time had never been “mothered” in the traditional sense, making it all the more unlikely he would accept anything you had to offer. He thought your help was necessary for the others, not him. It was noble. And incredibly stupid.

You had to find alternative ways to help him.

“Tea?” you hold up a mug to him as he passes where you’re sitting, your own cup held loosely in your other hand.

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Time frowns at the mug.

“What’s suspicious about tea?” you take a sip from your mug.

“Yeah, old man, when has tea ever gone wrong?” Wild, currently also enjoying a cup of tea next to you, smiles. 

“Tea isn’t suspicious,” Legend nods, clutching his own mug close to his chest.

“Not at all,” you agree, nodding in a totally not suspicious way.

“Then why are the two people you’re always after about pain management the only ones drinking it?” Time points at Wild, who often got whole-body aches that he liked to try to ignore, then at Legend, who, like Time, had arthritis in his hands, but was more willing to take medicine for it.

“Maybe they’re the only two who happened to walk past,” you take another long sip from your cup.

“What’s in the tea?” Time sighs.

“Uhhh, it’s green tea, so Camellia leaves,” your arm is starting to get tired from holding the extra mug out to him. “And some honey.”

Time raises an eyebrow. He didn’t remember having honey in the camp supplies.

“We just got it. Wild shield-surfed face-first into a hive,” you explain. The Link in question gives you a thumbs up when you glare at him.

“So this tea is just to use up the honey?” Time takes the mug carefully.

“Can’t really store it all. Our jars are for fairies or potions,” Legend shrugs.

“I kept one jar,” Wild smiles.

“Fine,” Time takes a drink. Success!

“Oh! And I added some turmeric and ginger,” you admit, looking away from him as you do. You glance at your surroundings in a nonchalant manner. “They have anti-inflammatory properties. Figured you could use it.”

“I knew it,” Time narrows his eyes (eye), but takes another drink of tea. “You were trying to medicate me.”

“Is it helping?” you ask. He flexes his hand, thinking.

“...Yes,” he finally admits, shoulders slouching in defeat.

Sky

“That’s not what happened!” Sky scowls. He had been recounting his attempt to catch the apparently portal-using mail man when a few of the others had begun teasing him about his inability to run.

“That’s totally what happened,” Legend smirks.

“Sounds like asthma,” you shrug, turning away from the conversation to inspect Twilight’s side. Apparently there was some evil magic that you couldn’t see infecting the wound, and while you were no mage, you were a medic, and infection of any kind, magic or otherwise, was unacceptable.

“Asthma…?” Nine heads tilt inquisitively sideways, various looks of confusion on their faces.

“Do you guys not know what asthma is?” Now it’s your turn to be confused.

The blank looks you get back speak for themselves.

“Okay,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think. “Athma is like… your throat gets tight and it gets really hard to breathe. Sometimes it feels like someone is sitting on your chest, making it really hard to get air in.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s pretty accurate,” Sky smiles.

“How do you not know what asthma is? If you have asthma you should have an inhaler.” You stand up, forgetting Twilight’s magic wound for a moment, and start rummaging through your bag. There wasn’t really a way to treat inflammation like that with the herbs you had available, but you had to have something.

“I thought it was just because I grew up in Skyloft,” Sky shrugs. “The air down here is just different.”

“That’s not how altitude changes work. The air up there is thinner, meaning Skyloftians should have an easier time breathing near the surface,” you say exasperatedly.

“Oh,” Sky blushes.

“So it’s an illness?” Warriors glances at Sky and takes a not-so-subtle step away.

“No, it’s genetic. You can’t ‘catch’ it, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” you roll your eyes. A few of the boys snicker at Wars’ look of relief.

“But is there a cure?” Sky sounds hopeful. “You said something about me needing to have something.”

“An inhaler. Not a cure, just a way to treat the symptoms,” you give up digging through your bag. “It’s medicine that you breathe in. And I have no way of making it here. If we ever go to my era I’m breaking into a pharmacy and getting you one.”

“Surely there must be something you can do without traveling to your era,” Time says.

“Not really,” you grimace. “We can limit triggers. If you didn’t have issues on Skyloft your asthma might be triggered by humidity? Or pollen? But it sounds like it’s triggered by exercise, which… well, you might have chosen the wrong profession.”

“You could say that again,” Legend snorts.

“Well, not much to be done,” Sky hums. “I’ve been alright up until now. I should be fine.”

“I’m still swiping you an inhaler if we wind up in my era,” you mutter, adding it to your growing list of things to either buy or steal from a modern pharmacy (some of the meds these boys needed were prescription, which you wouldn’t really be able to get otherwise).

"Thirty on her confessing first."

"Really? Why dontcha put fifty on the sun risin' in the east while yer at it, yeah?"

"Twenty on something happening, and that's what's gonna force the confession."

A chorus of "ooooh's."

The small crowd looked over to you and Legend. The latter seemed to be teasing you, holding a jar of something just out of arm's reach. You were getting annoyed at him, and just as Legend leaned over to gloat about something else, you swept your leg out.

He fell backwards with a startled yelp, and you used the momentary distraction to pin him down and grab the jar from him. He landed with a thud and a groan, and you triumphantly held up your prize from where you sat on him.

"I'm changing it to twenty on a confession from her in three weeks."

Legend flailed beneath you, a deep flush creeping up from his neck to his ears. You also seemed to realize the position you were in and leapt off of him.

A brief bout of stuttering and a flush of your own came out before you decided to just walk away and pretend like nothing happened.

"That's still easy money."

"At this rate, neither of them are going to do anything about it."

Wind scowled and turned to face Four. "There's no way! They've got to do something eventually, right?"

"If nothin's not happenin' on it's own, then looks like we gonna hafta make somethin' happen."

Wind made an intrigued expression. Four looked at Twilight with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you have an idea?" the smith asked.

"We could always lock them in a room together," Sky offered with a miraculously innocent smile. "Zel and I did that to some friends of ours once. It worked out!"

"You wanna lock Ledge up ina room?" Twilight looked at him incredulously. "They's gonna be plottin' how t'kill us `steada smoochin'."

"I agree. We'll need a more inconspicuous plan."

"Let's start small, yeah? Send `em on patrol t'gether or somethin'."

"Send who?" Legend asked.

All four of them jumped, and a near-visible shiver of fear went down Wind's spine. Twilight looked at him with wide eyes, words failing to come out of his mouth.

Sky jumped in for the rescued and wildly scanned the area for a second before spotting you.

"Hey!" he yelled at you. You looked at him and blinked owlishly. "Vet wants to patrol with you!"

That same blush from before returned to both you and Legend with a vengeance. Too flustered, you couldn't say much to the knight. And too angry, Legend also seemed a little incapable of saying much to him. He raised a fist, fuming.

"Why you fucking—!"

All four of them scrambled from the scene in different directions, leaving Legend alone in the dust, with you not too far away. He yelled incomprehensibly for a minute.

It came to a stop when you placed a hand on his shoulder. His hand came to harshly slap it away before he realized it was you. The flush of anger transformed into a flush of embarrassment.

"Do you uh, you wanna go on that patrol?" you asked.

He grumbled a bit, not wanting to say yes just because of the other four. "We do need to do one." Without another word, he grabbed your hand and marched away from camp.

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The more feral part of you is thrown off.

Naturally, because rabbits aren’t exactly known for a vibrant pink coat. In fact, such a mutation screamed of sickness, of a poor ability to hide, of a bad diet. Clearly such an individual would only bring you the extra attention that leads to getting caught in-

Ohmygoddessesitsmovingtowardsyou 

Tentatively, your company shuffles to your side. He’s smaller than you, reaching half your length and to your shoulder in height. He looks at you only tentatively, sparing side glances from his bowed head, declaring himself as not a threat.

You both stand in the cracked riverbed, pretending that he isn't shuffling closer. The night’s chill had now dissipated. The sun, its light, its heat, covered more now. And the latter it brought would soon prove problematic as well. Animals, predators, people, would seek the bank. Dry as it was, the dampened clay and crawling arms of water would provide enough respite to draw them from the treeline. And once they would, it's certain you could be their next pursuit. 

Something presses against your hind legs.

You spring, before you can calm yourself to even look, dashing on the dry tiles along the river, for where the river once ate away at the dirt, now leaving an uneven wall you had to climb so that you might escape your pursuer

“Ohhkay, angel. Just calm down” A familiar disgruntled voice sighs from behind you. Familiarly bitter, but more of a comfort than any sweet cooing could ever be. You relent on your struggle to climb, scraping on your way back to the crackled bed. Just to be sure of your safety, you circle him a handful of times, for good measure. He makes no move to follow, content to let you observe as you please. Eventually, though, you stop.

Legend saddles up beside you again, content to flop against you.

“Better?” He nudges again, his own furred ruffling yours. 

“What- how- I-” You try several questions. What he’s doing here. How he got here. Did he get attacked again from that wizzrobe? What are you even going to d-

“One thing at a time,” He eases, continuing to nuzzle his head against your side. The pressure is enough to distract you from the many spiraling questions. “The more you worry, the easier it’ll be to set you off. The less control you have”  And you focus in on his voice. How it hums beside you, how it's the only familiar thing you have in this form. Your ears settle closer to your back, your arms spread out in front of you. 

“There we go” You’re nudged again in your side, and you can't help but let out a happy little chuff– the most akin to a laugh you can find in this form, built only for panic. 

It’s as if suddenly, the big scary world was no longer so big, nor so scary. The world– all its sights and sounds and smells and tactiles, are no longer directly feeding into your senses. The sun was warming your fur, and that was enough comfort  for you.

The world, and all its predators, and towns, and people, aren’t even a latent concern in your mind. Instead, you have your husband to keep talking so he could maintain a hold on your attention. 

The world you were once nothing but bait for, suddenly didn't even concern you. Because your fur was getting groomed, and that was enough to occupy you for now. 

The sun rolled over its highest point , the trees that once danced atop the skin of the water, now casting a shadow upon your lover and you. Voices follow upon your path.

“Just relax,” 

They grow closer. Grow louder than the rustling of the leaves above. 

“Just stay still, with me” 

There’s three of them, heavy footed on the dirt. 

“Angel” 

You need to run. 

“Just-” 

Two large hands pick you up from your hind. No matter how much you squirm and how much you buck, they won’t relent for your escape. You care little for the voices you know, trying to ease you. You only care for the blood rushing within you, trying to pull you out from the inside. 

Legend is held in front of you by one of them, his voice returning back to your attention. 

“It’s just Twilight.” He says, though it leaves him more on one panicked breath. 

“It’s just some of the others. They know how to get us back.” His voice returns calmer than before, a shaky ease about him. It’s not quite enough to bring you calm, but it’s enough to get you to stop bucking. 

“What- How?” Now that– that seems to rock him some. He can’t stand to look at you while he plans what he says. 

“I won’t lie to you.” Never reassuring to open with. 


“It’s going to hurt” Never good to lead into. 

“You just have to trust me. You can do that, right?” And for just a moment, you’re not sure you can. 

They wait until you’re settled, until you relent to let them fix it. 

The whole ordeal goes with far less fanfare than you’d’ve thought. A sword –the mastersword, you realise a moment too late– is pressed upon your forehead. And that’s it.

Well, aside from the pain. 

Your bones crack and break open, growing and changing and moulding back to what they’re supposed to be. Your skin stretches and snaps,  forced to grow into a much bigger body. The fur once covering you is forced from your skin, a searing, burning pain as it leaves you. 

The hind consciousness is purged from your head.

𖦹

You awake covered by a now very human Legend, his hands running through your hair. 

“Feeling any better?” Sky checks in once he hears you groan out the residual pain. 

“Sure,” You sigh, not really sure if *this* qualifies as better, when it’s still so painful. Twilight and Legend mumble their understanding. Legend’s hands curl you closer, as if He might absorb some of the pain out of your bones 

“Never again.” You swear, swallowing down the bile trying to force itself up a the reminding wave of pain flowing through you.

“Glad I got some photos while I could then!” Wild chirps happily, scrolling through the slate.