#nihlkahn

He's clearly been putting too much work into the quest for Misko's treasure, following riddles and vague directions to find this particular armor set. Link had fallen asleep, taking a break under one of the many pink blossoming trees, wearing the tunic of the Deity set he'd been searching for and, when he woke, he thought for sure he was still dreaming.

For the man in front of him wore the entire set.

breath of the wild / accepting / @nihlkahn

"Let's wish each other good luck, hm? We all need it."

     Edel signs it as he speaks it, slow and defined. "Good luck." Link plays the sequence over again in his head, from the fingers by the chin to the last shape they twist into. It's an uncomplicated progression. Easy, honestly — he can recognise what makes good and what makes luck. This is usually where he raises his own hands, mimicking each motion with the eager awkwardness of someone still ingraining these things into muscle memory.

     Link's hands remain on his lap, unmoved. His eyes flit up to his companion's. As his left hand clenches, he bites his lip against the sour taste suddenly lingering in his mouth.

     There's something really funny about a god talking about needing luck.

     I know, he's tempted to return. He can imagine how he'd say it, can imagine the press of fingernails at his temple: sharp and biting and bitter with each tap. I know. But he doesn't have to repeat what Edel is already aware of, and — worse besides — it'd be a certain kind of unfair to point out.

     His companion is a god, and his companion is a mask. In this misfortune, they are the same type of people. The ones who need luck the most — the ones for whom luck isn't an option. It isn't even a reality. For them, there are only decisions, then consequences.

     Yet here the Fierce Deity sits: eyes soft and shadow a welcome shelter from the sun, wanting to give him this wish that counts for nothing. To give him the means to say it, regardless of his voice, like it matters that he can. In the face of a world that is far more beloved than it loves, Link almost thinks it pointless. Insincere.

     Just almost though, 'cause this is the same world where Link is also Lark.

     Lark, who doesn't need to ask to have someone ready to help. Lark, who's been told he deserves to be cared for, to be loved. Lark, who— maybe, maybe, has something like a guardian.

     Lark, who definitely has Edel.

     He exhales. It's an unwinding of what he's tightened into, from brow to lips to shoulders to fist. He pulls his left hand open the rest of the way and looks down to consider it. For several moments, that's all he does, before he eventually lifts it to his chin.

Link eyes the deity as he tousles his hair, not sure he appreciates his hair being tousled and definitely not being appreciated how far he'd been thrown. It was enough that he had to pull out his paraglider midair to keep the landing from killing him, and he briefly wonders how far the deity could actually throw him if he tried.

But that's not important.

@nihlkahn asked: " You blame yourself for what happened, don't you? "

The question had Link quiet for a long moment. He'd been asked the very same by others - Impa, Purah, King Dorephan; those who'd known him the longest. To each in turn, Link had lied, finding a way to place the blame on circumstance, on the Calamity, on the Demon King.

He couldn't lie now - he couldn't even speak for how the dam had broken in him when Fierce asked him that. « Of course I do - I should've known better, should've been better. I lost everything to the Calamity and never even got it back - my home, my family, my closest friends. A hundred years before I finally finish the job and we still struggled to get some kind of normal back! »

And what for? « All so I can fail again and put everything we worked so hard for in danger. My new friends, my new family, all of it is in danger again because I couldn't stop him. And Zelda could be lost to us forever this time because I couldn't catch her. »

Hot tears gathered in the hero's eyes, threatening to fall. He brought his hand - his Hylian hand - to cover his eyes and palm away those tears.

showing affection / accepting / @nihlkahn

HAIR, sender brushes offers to brush receiver's hair.

     He tries not to think of it as work, really.

     Looking after yourself shouldn't be a chore when it's care, condensed and personalised, but it's hard to put it any other way when the body demands so much — so often. Hunger does not soften if you can't bring yourself to eat. Exhaustion will cut you down, no matter what awaits you when your eyes shut. Nothing will wait for you to muster the energy to tend to it.

     You leave it for long enough, and it all — unforgivingly — builds up.

     This is mortal work.

     ...Why would a god wanna take part in it?

     Link blinks at nothing, stunned to stillness for a second. Would you like help with that? He turns the words over in his mind, hand tugging on the comb that won't go through the knots he's subjected his hair to after too many days of neglect. It still doesn't budge, so he pulls it out of those locks entirely and spins in his seat to look at the Deity with wide eyes.

     He doesn't think he wants to call the thing that squeezes his heart fear. Shock, maybe, or some similarly-shaped confusion. It's— been a long time since anyone's asked him something like that. Since anyone could.

     It's been longer since he's said yes.

     The quiet holds, hanging over them like shadows from a sinking sun. Link swallows, shoulders stiff, teeth sinking into the inner flesh of his bottom lip. This must all seem very silly. It's just hair. It's just his, and the thought of another touch — the Deity's — brushing through it. It's not like they haven't worked on an idea close to this. He knows what peace can feel like from those hands, even if short-lived. He knows what it is to be unafraid of them, even if for a fraction of a moment.

     ( Above all, he doesn't want to say no. )

the hidden / accepting / @nihlkahn

     There comes a point where you hurt for long enough, alone enough, that the ache becomes something like a friend.

     Link almost can't imagine being without it. Saying goodbye to it. He doesn't think he'd know how to when he's been holding it by the hand for so long, so dutifully, and maybe it's his mistake — admitting that. But the night stretches on like some gaping maw: suffocating, his exhaustion a weight he can't lift his head all the way up against, the gnawing rot sunk so deep in the heart he feels he has no tears left for—

     And the Deity, through it all, is here. By his side, despite what brought them together. Despite what should've kept them apart — how Link wanted them apart. He remains, anchored. Present.

     Vengeful.

There's moments of the Deity that find him awash in regret and hatred for the Goddesses as he looks upon Link, how could they do this to a child who was so alone in the world? Even though he couldn't have prevented it, he still wishes he could have done more, " I can't believe you've been dealing with all of this on your own. If I could go back and change it all, I would. "

     Had he the energy for it, Link would've smiled. Or, at least, tried. It's a nice thing to hear. More than what he's ever gotten from anyone about this — through no fault but his own. Is it wrong of him, he wonders, that he only dares this with the Deity? That he'd sooner open the door for a god than any older friend; that he'd put his struggles there, on that divine-or-other level his companion occupies?

     Link feels it's only fair.

     He shakes his head from where it's buried in his arms, shoulders moving up-down in some half-hearted shrug. Now that it's out there, suspended in the space between them with shaky, stunted words, the hurt feels— emptier. Not gone, just...easier to fill in, maybe. Easier to breathe around and say, "S'kay."

     It's not. But he likes to imagine there's a yet there: it's not okay yet, 'cause it will be. It will have to be. He can't change anything that's happened, can't change that it's all happened to him, and he can't want to. What would it make him if he wished this on someone else? It has to be him. It has to be Link.