#modern! reader

    A perfectly carved and structured hallway greeted you upon entering. Crossing paths where Queen Nasuada walked should had been the end or the beginning of imprisonment.

    The door you had entered from was gone. No trace of it. Only bare wall behind you and confusion on your face.

    "Where am I?"

    Perhaps that was the reason you were questioned instead of six feet underground.

    Well and similarly dressed people were ordered to check you in a rather empty room. Yet all they did was frown intensely and grow exhausted.

    "Are you alright?"

    You wondered if they had pushed themselves too hard earlier. Maybe they were new? Or perhaps you managed to block your mind? Were you good at that?

    It was a first, for you. Having someone diving through your mind would be painful in ways you were acutely aware of. But they didn't.

    Was it all an act?

    You weren't sure of current political dances.

    It did not take long for Queen Nasuada take a great interest in you.

    "Are you literate?" Queen Nasuada had asked.

    "I am." You answered, no longer peering around her private room. "I didn't spend all of those years in school for nothing." Nerves on edge, you had been determined not to show your fear.

    "Good. What do you know of Dragon Riders?"

    You twirled the pencil between your fingers as you dwelled on the past a little longer.

    Maybe she took pity on me, you wondered. Me and my sweatpants. Heh. But I should've said even less. I don't remember what she knows about Dragon Riders. It's fine. I was just trying to prove myself.

    Sitting outdoors, the sky looked similar to the day you walked out of your own world. Clouds building high in the sky. Anticipation in the air.

    A gentle breeze beckoned you to enjoy your time. No more pondering and fretting over actions long passed.

    Back to work.

    With an open sketchbook on your lap, you continued jotting down notes about the weather. Little things such as where the wind favored blowing in from. As odd as it might seem, it helped pass the time as well as made a good log of the area's weather. It would be easier for you to check how the seasons were in the area. As long as you had space in your sketchbook.

    "May I join you?"

    Glancing up from a pair of boots to a familiar face, you smiled at the presence of Eragon.

    "You may," you answered.

    The Dragon Rider sat on the ground beside you. His air of formal leadership relaxing.

    "Busy again?" He inquired.

    In response, you showed him the little map you drew of the immediate area. Mount Arngor at its center. Cardinal directions on the bottom corner and a dragon silhouette near the top of the page.

    "You can draw as well?" Eragon leaned forward, both intrigued and surprised.

    "Anyone can draw if they just do it. It takes action, practice, and experience. In that order." You punctuated your point with a light tap of your pencil to paper.

    Resting his chin on his hand, brown eyes lingered on you without humor nor judgement. Only a small lift to his lips.

    Your stomach fluttered.

    The look he wore made you tear your gaze away. Far into the distance where grasslands and imaginative landscapes beckoned the curious. The distance could hardly keep your attention then.

    At this point he can hear my heartbeat, you thought in dismay.

    Another breeze picked up as the pair of you sat quietly together.

    Thankfully the quiet, soft sounds of nature calmed your heart and in turn your mind. For the most part, anyway.

    Sitting next to Eragon Shadeslayer was still a surprise to you. Many years of him existing in books, minds, and hearts of readers was a firm foundation in this mind. Hard to break when both coexisted.

    You preoccupied yourself with adding a little more detail to your map. Suggestions of clouds, a small flock of birds, and darker shades to the mountain.

    It'd be too much to draw a worm by the farming plots, wouldn't it?

    You peered up to eye the area in the distance, however you sat up straighter. The air felt different on your skin as your eyes scanned the dark clouds. You sniffed.

    A familiar scent, one you couldn't name, caught your attention.

    "It's going to rain," you stated.

    "Perhaps." Eragon gazed out before him. "But not yet."

    "I can smell the difference," you stated.

    "Oh?"

    You ignored the light teasing tone to close your sketchbook. Slipping out underneath your shirt, you roughly tucked in the fabric.

    "What are you doing?" Eragon did his best to keep a serious expression as he watched you.

    Even from your peripheral vision, you knew he failed to hide his utter confusion and wide smile.

    You didn't answer.

    Out in the distance, rain started to pour over the crops and land beyond. Dark clouds slowly appearing to change shape.

    "You know the wind's coming this way, right?"

    "I do." His focus turned to the water finally released from the clouds.

    "This is where I say a phrase from where I'm from: I told you so." You said while standing up.

    Sound of rain hit your ears, getting louder. Closer.

    Bopping Eragon's arm playfully, you turned and started running towards the fortress. "I'll race you!"

    The roar of rain gained.

    Go! Go! Go! Your ran as fast as you could.

    One did not always out run nature's shows. Especially not when the sky seemed to open up completely.

    Heavy rain hit you at an angle. Surprising if not a little refreshing in a way.

    In moments, you reached the entrance of the fortress and slowed to a stop a little ways inside. Eragon followed in behind you, hair wet.

    Others had made it indoors already. Dry and conversing amongst themselves.

    One of the dry beings was familiar to you already. The purple dragon hatchling bounded up to you as you shook off water.

    "Hi again." You greeted with a grin. "Or...kvetha."

    The little dragon gazed outside at all the rain. They took a sniff.

    So stinking cute.

    "Are your drawings alright?" Eragon asked, stepping in front of you and wringing out his shirt.

    You peered down at your own shirt, a square shape visible. "They should be."

    The Rider attempted suppressing a smile. Cheeks lightly flushed. Dark wet hair stuck to the forehead.

    Without thinking, you used your fingers to swipe a lock of hair back.

    His eyes widened.

    "I'm sorry." You retracted your hands and held them close to yourself.

    "Ah.. Thank you." The tips of his ears reddened.

    Or not so sorry, you thought with a smile.

    The moment was reasonably interrupted by an Urgal urging you both to warm yourselves by the fire. Both of you accepted the invitation gladly.

    You, for one, did not want to be sick. Not there.

    Listening to others conversing and watching the flames comforted you on the sudden rainy day. An odd familiarity.

    Perhaps it was the combination of scenes you liked to imagine with characters you knew and natural elements just as they would be back home.

    It was a wonder you had not lost your mind or fully thought you had.

    You angled your shoes this way and that. Making sure to dry your shoes completely.

    Squishy, wet shoes were not great.

    Rotating as subtly as possible, you inwardly pouted.

    I need to change clothes, you thought as you took a step back.

    SQUEAK

    You cringed. You could feel more than a pair of brown eyes look to your shoes.

    Time to go.

    "Please excuse me," you said, "I don't favor wet socks for too long."

    "Aye."

    "One could catch a cough that way."

    "From damp socks?"

    Laughing softly, you left the small gathering and headed in the direction of your chambers. Stairwells were always there to greet you. So many steps.

    Steps caught up to you as you turned down another hall. Not that you entirely heard them, more as if you sensed not being alone.

    What is he doing? You reasoned it could only be one person. Most others called for you before actually reaching you first.

    "Shur'tugal," you glanced over to him.

    Eragon fell into step with you.

    "I thought you'd still be warming yourself by the fire and talking with the others."

    "Dripping water in front of those speaking tends to make conversation..."

    "Damp?"

    "Mmm."

    "Soggy and quietly miserable?"

    "Yes," he confessed. "If not embarrassing."

    "Because you're the leader?"

    Eragon nodded. "It would not be the appropriate appearance for one in my position."

    Position, you almost rolled your eyes.

    "We got caught in a rainstorm. Dripping water is a better position than slipping and falling onto wet rock."

    His mouth opened as if to reply, but no words came out. The Dragon Rider looked to you and let his gaze roam for a moment.

    I'm lucky to not have slipped outside and busted anything.

    "Your words are true."

    Huh?

    "Better to be a little wet than filled with humiliation."

    "And a bruise the size of...my sketchbook." You gestured to it.

    "True."

    I really should've taken this out, you thought as you poked the book through the fabric. It thumped against you every other step. Uh.

    Passing another hall, you came to realize Eragon intended to walk with you. Very well out of his way considering he should had parted ways with you already.

    Oh. You eyed your shoes as another wet squeak sounded.

    Familiar stairs lay before you.

    You sighed.

    "Is anything wrong?" Eragon inquired with one foot already on the first step.

    "Please be honest with me," you started.

    "Alright." His expression turned guarded on a way that pulled at your heartstrings.

    You whispered, "Are you afraid I'll slip on a step, bounce off the wall, and land where I started?"

    He blinked once. Your words processing through his mind until he laughed out so suddenly that he covered his mouth.

    You smiled triumphantly and started up the stairs.

    Another point for me! Not that I'm keeping track. You thought. But I bet he thought it'd be a serious question. You smiled more. He needs me humor in his life.

    "Your tripping record suggests I should accompany you."

    "For safety?" You called back.

    "Of course."

    "And if you were to trip from any moisture remaining on your boots?"

    "I can catch myself before I fall," Eragon announced from beside you as you both continued ascending the stairs.

    "Hmm. When I say: I catch myself falling. It means I'm seeing a blur a split second before I hit the ground."

    He chuckled. "In that instance, I hope you do not catch yourself falling."

    "I hope the same."

    A wider smile pulled on Eragon's lips and you felt as if the weight of the world and knowledge you held was a little lighter. Less daunting to hide.

    Maybe we're kind of...sort of, you sneaked a peek at him, friends? Friendly friends? Your cheeks warmed. What are the odds? Pretty sure he doesn't walk with anyone else so casually.

    One hand tracing the wall, you carefully took each step as consciously as possible.

    Being distracted by the Dragon Rider was always possible. Day or night. Most certainly a degree more when in his presence.

    He's cute when he smiles. Your gaze traced the curve.

    "Do you draw?" You asked, aware of the suddenness of the question and the visibility of your chamber door up ahead.

    "Not as you. No."

    "I could teach you, if you'd like."

    Brown eyes brightened, betraying the diplomatic expression he held. He thought it over regardless.

    "I would be much calmer than my teachers. I promise," you added.

    "You had more than one--"

    SQUEAK

    The sole of your shoe had lost its placement. More so, you felt the fear spike through your body as the pull of gravity made itself known. However, only for a second. Thankfully.

    Eragon caught your outstretched hand and held you in place, stabilizing you.

    "Thank you," you breathed out.

    Again.

    "You're welcome," he answered, still very much holding your hand.

    All of your senses were going off and your mind did all it could to appear calm. Relatively, anyway.

    Yet even with you safe from falling and very aware of almost thirty seconds of hand holding, you noticed something else.

    Eragon's right hand felt...different. In texture, a little. In temperature difference, maybe.

    Taking a glance at his hand, the knowledge came to you without needing to move.

    Argetlam, you thought. Right. Obviously.

    As you met his gaze again, Eragon's throat bobbed.

    "All the way up," you said, forcing your sights ahead.

    "Yes."

    The last steps leading up to your chambers felt shorter than the rest. All the while, your companion held your held your hand up for support and watched your footfalls with a keen eye.

    He's just being very polite, you told yourself. And now I know what the gedwëy ignasia feels like.

    Both of you stopped at the doorstep.

    Slowly, he released your hand.

    "Thank you again... I promise it's just the shoe being wet. I can usually jog up the stairs without help."

    "I don't mind helping you."

    "But you do so much already," you interjected.

    His eyes squinted ever so slightly, reading you. "Helping you isn't a chore. It's what I want to do. Whether it's raining or perfectly bright."

    Heavy words hit your already full heart.

    OH.

    Your fingers blindly reached for the handle to the door.

    "Or if you've fallen into a bush," he added with a smirk, "or you need assistance with a door." Tips of his fingers pushed your arm up to finally touch the handle.

    Fire. Your skin felt like you were in front of the flames once more.

    Patting the sketchbook hidden in your shirt and opening the door, you knew your composure was slipping.

    "See you later."

    "I will." Brown eyes did not look away for a moment. Eragon held himself confidently. An ease about him that sent butterflies in your stomach.

    Slipping inside your room, you gave him one last smile before closing the door.

    Oh, what is happening? You thought as you tried getting your heartbeat to a calmer state. He could still be right out there.

    You knew he was. No doubt in your mind could convince you otherwise.

If you said anything under your breath, he'd hear you. If you cracked open the door, he's see you. If you walked out of your room, he could touch your hand again.

Warmth and comfort and all the closeness you imagined could happen.

Reaching up without a rational thought towards the door again, you bumped your knuckles into the edge of the sketchbook.

"Ow. Really?" You shook your hand and moved away from the door.

Use your head, you told yourself. He's a Dragon Rider. The leader here. You sighed. And that doesn't make these feelings any easier today, yesterday, or years ago with just pages in books.

There were no fictional emotions within you. All were real. As were those looks Eragon gave you.​

~~~

~~~

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DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire

Close to the ground, a dark shape stepped into your path. Caught off guard, you yelped before realizing what exactly you were seeing. A purple and blue dragon hatchling about the height of a German Shepard, glanced your way and tilted their head. Light danced across their youthful scales almost magically. You exhaled calmly. “You’re cute, you know that?” The hatchling did a small bounce in place. Effectively making your heart melt. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You chuckled and carefully walked around the hatchling. “Have fun today.” With a garble of a response, the dragon hatchling bounded off down the hall you already traveled. At least they give the elves a run for their…well, not money, but, you lightly scratched your ear in thought. A lot of running, I guess. One of the hatchlings did find the food storage the other day. Despite how cute and funny it was, there very well could be serious consequences if a large amount of food had been…destroyed. The community in Arngor still had a ways to go. Every ounce of supplies, tools, and food were important. Resources couldn’t be wasted. Which was why you were lending a hand. Well, a little more than that.

Passing through a wide courtyard and waving to the other ambassador in greeting, you hurried towards the steps that lead further down the mountain. Always so many steps. Your intention? To reach the fields beyond. You wanted to help tend to the crops. I can’t be writing letters for Queen Nasuada and notes for myself all day. Steadily down you went. One step at a time. An easy rhythm and pace as you breathed in the fresh air. Smiling whilst hearing birds chirp and sing in-between many trees. The sluicing of the water container in your bag. And no honking of horns or sirens. No traffic either. Just small dragons lurking—exploring — who-knows-where on the mountain. Just another normal day living on Elëa. Where winter were freezing and summers were hot on many continents. Not that Eragon knew specific details of the world. Not that anyone around you might know that. You weren’t going to bring it up in conversation. Thus far, you hadn’t messed up nor revealed any information you deemed classified. You were not about to start.

Everything’s going pretty darn well. Shades of green was all laid out in front of you. Trees, bushes, and grass in the lively environment. A distant figure with brown hair. Only a few steps away from green—until it wasn’t. The heel of your shoe skidded off of the step you were meant to take. All your weight and momentum followed the pull of gravity. A force you could not see. But you sure as heck tried to best it. One frustrated yelp, a curse, and a broken twig later, you found yourself staring up into the blue sky. “Why?” You questioned to the universe. Sighing, you didn’t bother wondering how your shoe was caught in another bush near you. You only tried tugging yourself out of it. Blur of movement caught your attention. Why? To your great embarrassment, Eragon had rushed over to you. Groaning, you covered your face with both hands just as the Dragon Rider knelt beside your form. “Are you alright?” Eragon asked. “I’m fine,” you nearly groaned again. “I swear I don’t trip over everything.” “This wasn’t a trip.” Eragon said. You felt a pressure around your foot before your shoe was freed from foliage. “It’s an embarrassment,” you murmured. Dropping your hands, you pushed yourself to sit up. How could you even meet his gaze? Once again you were seen accidentally hurting yourself, however mildly. Severely embarrassing. All in front of him. “It’s a rarity,” he claimed. “Huh?” You gaze snapped up to his as confusion settled over you. “It’s rare that anyone who should fall as you did…not be injured.” Eragon clarified before grabbing your hands and pulling you to your feet in one smooth motion. If you didn’t notice the heat on your neck before, you definitely felt it rush across your skin then. It refused to fade even as Eragon released your hands. The Dragon Rider offered you a small smile. “Thank you,” you said before brushing your hands over your clothes. “You’re welcome.” He offered your bag, held up by two fingers. You sighed. Eragon only smiled more as you grabbed your bag. “Are you still to join us?” “And probably trip into the soil? Sure.” You shrugged, not sure if you were entirely kidding. There was no telling what would happen every second of the day. “That might be the faster way to tend to the crops,” he quipped. You openly gawked at him. Smile still present, the Dragon Rider wandered in the direction of the tended land. Did he just…? Oh, that’s not fair. You narrowed your eyes lightheartedly. Him and his cute, fluffy hair. You paused mid-step and patted your head. Okay. Good. No leaves.

. . .

The afternoon sun shone brightly across the fields as they were being tended to. A light breeze tickled nearby trees. Pleasant temperatures for time spent outside. They look so similar, you thought after squinting up at the sun. Not for more than half a second, mind you. Not a cloud in the sky. Even with dirty hands and shoes, you were happy with your decision to help out. Some amongst you sang between plants while others swapped stories. A content community. “How’s the weather?” Eragon asked with a growing smirk. A playful Dragon Rider kneeling beside a healthy sprout. Brown eyes watching you. It took a second for you to recognize his double meaning. The inside joke. “Fine.” You tossed a leaf his way, partially successful as it almost reached him. “How are the earthworms?” You countered and tossed weed aside. “Fairing well,” Eragon answered with a simple nod, “I haven’t received any complaints.” “Oh.” “Why?” He exaggerated his tone. “Did you hear anything?” Turning your head, you snickered into your shoulder. Fully prepared for questions, formal talk, and even the occasional sass; you were no where near ready for Eragon joking with you. It warmed your heart never the less. For you knew he was content. “You’re a trip, you know that?” You wagged an index finger at him. “A trip?” Oh, right. You straightened to your full height, ready to explain. “Are you blaming me for your tumbles down stairs?” He challenged with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and not moving away from the green plant. Ill-prepared for his playfulness indeed. Looking at Eragon, truly looking at him, made the entire situation seem dreamlike. The young man was working the soil and his brown eyes appeared golden in sunlight. All bright, content, and living as if the load on his shoulders wasn’t too heavy to bare. How could he hide so much of his worries and past behind a smile you could hardly remember reading of? What made him open up in this way? You swallowed. Why did Nasuada want to keep tabs on finer details of Eragon’s new home? Tilting your head slightly, you answered the Rider. “I wouldn’t blame the person who has actually saved me from falling forward. I might be clumsy at times, but I’m not foolish. And you’re —” His eyebrows rose expectantly. You cleared your throat and stepped over to pull out more weeds. “You’re also not foolish.” Your gaze set on your task. After a moment, you half thought he might have something to add, but the banter ended as fast as it started. Way to compliment him, you sassed yourself.

. . .

Hours after the sun had set in the West and the people of Mount Arngor were relaxing for the night, you sat in your usual seat away from the fire. Close enough for conversation or peace. A group of urgals sat together enjoying the rest after a long day. No sight of any elves or dragons. Some dwarves off in a corner were deep in conversation with the other ambassador sent by Queen Nasuada. Rolling your shoulders, you stretched out your aching muscles. All that pulling and bending down, you thought, and I forgot how many stairs between the fields and my room. I better sleep like a rock tonight. You rubbed your knuckle into the side of your thigh. “This must be why leg day is a thing,” you muttered. “I’m surprised.” Jolting in your seat, you peered to your side to see the leader of Mount Arngor. “Surprised?” “You’re not writing.” Eragon pulled up a chair beside you. “Oh.” “I presumed you wrote everyday.” “I do.” You sat up straighter. “Maybe not so often each day.” He adjusted himself in the seat and let out a short chuckle. “I don’t see how you or anyone can write so often without tiring. My wrist grows sore with speaking of writing.” “Try shaking your hands…like if they’re wet. Rubbing circles into your hand or wrist kind of helps.” His eyebrows pinched together. “Do you know healing as well?” “Don’t quote me on anything. Some of it’s from experience and other stuff I don’t remember if I learned it or read something somewhere.” “Did you have much access to knowledge where you’re from?” His brown eyes bore into you with growing curiosity. Question time. Lounging back a bit, you answered, “More than I knew what to do with and more than I could ever completely read.” Confusion and awe flashed across his features. He likely expected a simple answer. Hands flexing on his lap, he did not add a response. You smiled. “There are some amazing libraries, books from floor to ceiling, that… I really wish I could have at least seen in person.” Your gaze fell to the floor, images of beautifully intricately designed libraries flashing through your mind like a smooth slideshow. The calm and comfortably warm atmosphere slowly brought you into a haze of memories. Borrowing books with a list of names inside the cover, navigating aisles to find a newly released title, saving images similar to how you imagined fantastical lands, and scrolling for hours and hours. How often did you seek out printed language?

“What was your home like?” Memories and the touch of nostalgia fizzled away. Crap. Your eyes refocused and you took a glance at Eragon. His focus on you made the panic start. Having the Dragon Rider’s focus was much more intense than his fleeting attention. Yet you were prepared. Somewhat. Time to yourself allowed you to imagine many possible encounters, especially with Eragon Shadeslayer. “Before the Queen assigned me to this role?” You asked, trying to give yourself more time to think and consider your next words carefully. “Yes,” he nodded. “Where you spent your childhood.” Indoors and outdoors, you mentally sassed. “Busy people,” you shrugged, “working adults, homework.” Your lip curled back at the thought of the last word. “Living from one day to the next and hope it’s better or easier.” “Were there any…magicians where you lived?” You nearly snorted. “No.” Nodding slowly, Eragon related to you a detail about his home. “There wasn’t a magician in Carvahall either. My home.” He clarified and shifted in his seat. “Not as the bigger cities.” You nodded even while very well knowing of his past. Knowing what information the young man withheld of an old bearded man he once knew. Brown eyes looked to you again. “Was there no on who could use magic where you’re from? You had spoke of this place being different for you. Is this the first time you’ve seen magic? Can you tell me of any of it?” “Depends on how you classify magic.” Bewilderment covered his fair face. “Classify?” Shifting in the chair, you faced him fully. “Back home there are magic tricks, which is usually a slight of hand. Then there’s the feeling that something could be described as magical, but most likely is nowhere near what say a dragon or Dragon Rider could do.” Eragon nodded along, “Just a word.” “Exactly, like wondrous. And there’s events or actions that maybe no one has an explanation for,” you shrugged again. He sat back. “You handle being an ambassador here as if you had years of training. As if everyone and all of Arngor was knowledge given to you.” “Knowledge, the truth, of this place isn’t common knowledge for anyone in Alagaësia. I think it’s better that way.” You swallowed uneasily.

You knew well what the Dragon Rider could be thinking. He had complimented you not long ago on your role while he mistook your questions as doubt in your abilities. His current words still reflected a sort of admiration of your adjustability to new situations. However, you knew in your gut his subconscious was wary of something. But he wouldn’t genuinely be so friendly if he suspected me of any deceit. Your fingers intertwined tightly on your lap. “I feel like you want to ask me something,” you whispered. “I have a great deal of questions.” “I know.” You kept your voice low. “But I can’t answer everything.” “Even if you wanted to tell me?” The Rider’s voice lowered as your own, keeping the conversation as private as possible without the use of a spell. Gaze flicking to your own lap, you heard Eragon hum an affirmative. At least he won’t push. “She only gave me an overview of what I should expect here. I don’t know what specific details she has of this place,” you added even softer. “I still don’t see why two ambassadors are necessary.” Eragon’s gaze hardened in thought. “But I’m grateful to be here. Everyone has been nothing but kind and welcoming.” “Your words are appreciated.” Said Eragon as he came back to himself. “As is your kindness.” Any response was caught in your throat as you peered into his brown eyes. Swallowing proved mildly difficult.

A whole person with a past, personality, and dreams for the future were behind that gaze. Not just words in a story. Eragon was real. The whole of Elëa with Alagaësia was very real. You were sitting in it with less than an arm’s length away from a Dragon Rider. One you held dear to your heart. But you feared him learning the extent of what you knew. What you felt. Yet keeping a distance from Eragon was not what he appeared to have in mind. Jokes and questions increasing by the day. A warmth filled your chest and you tore your gaze from him.

“It’s late,” you murmured and stood from the chair. “Good night.” “Good night.” Eragon responded quietly, watching you go. The sound of his voice repeated in your mind as you made your way up to your room. So many darn steps. So many darn cute smiles given to you. You clutched at your chest. What am I doing?

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~ DreamerDragon Tags: Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

Time

"Ready to go?" You asked him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Time sat on the couch, leg crossed over the other as he sipped a cup of coffee. He was dressed in a black turtle neck with darkwash blue jeans. You hated to admit it, (no, you didn't) but he looked good in modern clothes. He was busy trying to figure out the phone you got him two weeks ago. He marveled at the tech but argued that it was a strain to look at for too long.

You didn't blame him. You showed him how to turn on the eye protection filter and how to lower the brightness. But you imagined that he was having a difficult time adjusting his one eye to the new information and light it was being exposed to.

Still, he didn't give up.

It was admirable. It made you smile how willing he was to learn everything just to fit in with your home.

Never let it be said that Link wasn't a champion of hitting the ground running. He was willing to bite down on any challenge big or small.

"Almost," He said softly, finishing his coffee with more speed than you would have recommended.

"Working on something?" You walked over, leaning down to get a good look at what he was reading.

He turned off the phone quickly and shoved it in his pocket. He smirked and spun you around so fast toward the front door that you didn't have the chance to form a sentence. "I have found those stores you mentioned from the crystal screen," He says directly into your ear. "I was merely perusing their stock, that's all."

"Oh no, who showed you Faron?" You groan.

He laughs.

"Link, I'm serious. That is dangerous territory."

"Nothing," He shrugs. "I haven't figured out where the cart is."

"Oh thank the three-"

"Don't look into it though."

"Oh?"

"Nope," He says with a shake of his head. "I'm not telling. Let's go to this movie thing you mentioned. What was it again?"

You raise an eyebrow, not at all impressed with his attempts to distract you. You might need to check your bank account later just in case. "Storytelling. Moving pictures that we can see and hear."

"I'm excited. Let's go!"

Twilight

"Tell me again, how this goes?" Twilight looked at you nervously.

"Link, you're a bonafide country boy. This shouldn't scare you." You tease, putting your hands on your hips. "You've been shot out of canons, turned into a wolf and fought evil incarnate itself. You blew up a bomb shop! This is where you draw the line?"

"This is different, Darlin'."

You took the moment to admire his new outfit. You put in a pair of dark wash Levi's, a red flannel shirt, cowboys boots and a hat to match. But you had taken the hat off and instead set it aside.

He wouldn't need it for what you had planned.

"Look," You smiled at him, the teas sitting on the tip of your tongue. "All you have to do is stay in one place. It'll take care of the rest."

"So how do you stop it?"

"You don't."

Twilight sighed and gave you a long-suffering look. You only smiled wider at him in response. Pushing up the tractor tire with as much strength you could muster, you hit the side of it. "Hop in."

"This is insane." Twilight groaned and maneuvered to get inside the tire. "Something tells me this isn't safe!"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You accuse, slowly rolling it down the hill you've place it on. "Ready?"

"No."

"Let's go!" You cheered and pushed him away.

As expected the tire began to roll down the hill, gaining speed as it descended. You laughed, chasing it down as it began to bounce. There was a possibility that it would go straight into the lake that was at the bottom but you were sure Twilight was fine.

Twilight was screaming.

Still, that was normal for first time goers.

He had wanted to know what the farmers did for fun. You couldn't resist the temptation to include in the chaos.

Eventually, the tire did bounce directly into the lake. It stopped the rubber in its tracks and you jumped in after it. Within moments, Twilight popped his head over the side, climbing over the tire with a large smile on his face.

"Let's do that again!"

Warrior

"...woah..." Warrior breathed.

You had decided to take him to a LARP'ing scene in the local park.Not because you thought that he would be interested in it, but because you thought that he would lose his mind at seeing something a lot like the time he was from.

It wasn't exactly the renaissance fair. It was far too low budget to come close to that. But it was close enough that it counted.

He would never admit it, too stubborn and headstrong in keeping his decisions, but you could see that he was homesick. Warrior had decided to leave behind everything he knew because he never could bring himself to say goodbye to you.

Knowing that it was one of the most difficult decisions anyone could make, you've tried to make his transition as smooth as possible.

It wasn't remotely smooth.

But again, it was the thought that counted right?

All around you were people who decided to dress centuries out of style. You joined them to fit in the spirit.

Did Warrior know this? No.

You grinned and skipped over to him. He was dressed in his hero gear, just as you requested. You looped your arm in his and kissed his cheek. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of you. You half expected his eyes to fully bulge out of his head. "Like it? I managed to find enough people to throw this all together."

"...For me?" He whispered, looking around with wet eyes.

"They don't know that." You gestured to the people. "They're just here to have fun and pretend to be someone else. If they do things that are still a little... off, forgive them, won't you? After all they're still very much this time, not yours."

"It looks so real." Warrior gaped. "It's like I stepped back..."

"Home?" You offered quietly, letting his arm go to give him some space to take it all in.

"....yeah..."

Most of it was actually painted carboard that would later be donated to the local theater. But you thought it would be a bit cruel to burst his bubble by mentioning that.

"Hey!" Someone random guy passed you both. "You look awesome dude! Is that real chainmail?"

Warrior quickly wiped his face, giving the passerby his most charming smile. "Why, yes, of course! Had to bring some authenticity to this place!"

"That's sick! Did you make it yourself?"

"Uh.... no. I ordered it."

You snorted, knowing the lie for what it was. "Come on! I heard they're about to start a bon fire! They're going to roast cucco and mutton and someone brought kombucha to purchase."

"I don't know what that is." Warrior smile a bit warily. Said bubble was already on the verge of being popped.

"Fermented mushroom drink. No one is going to want to drink mead, love."

"....That's fair. Let me try it at least. It can't be as bad."

"That's the spirit."