#ravlinkweek

Speaking of Link, there’s not much our resident hero in purple knows about the guy. From what Ravio can gather, the boy in the wolf outfit isn’t very... befitting of that garb. You’d expect someone to be mean and nasty, maybe super aloof and not very personable. Instead, he’s rather soft-spoken (when he chooses to speak, that is), shy, and really quick on his feet.

Some nights, when the squatter and his fairy companion (Taffle, he says) are fast asleep, Ravio can’t help but wonder what kind of face is under that mask. Is it young, or old? Grotesque, or plain? Voice can only lend so much to the imagination. He knows taking a quick peek wouldn’t immediately be met with a consequence, but the knowledge would eat at him for weeks. Despite his need for the instant gratification of his curiosities... he stays his hand and doesn’t intrude on something Link clearly wants to keep secret.

After all, he’s not exactly open about himself either. He might overshare (read: talk nonstop) about what he’s encountered on his travels, but talking about himself is a hard thing to tackle. And he prefers keeping a good chunk of his past behind closed doors.

Doesn’t stop a certain fairy from doing the prodding when his buddy otherwise wouldn’t, though.

“So!” he starts in that squeaky voice of his, “You and Link have been getting along pretty well.”

“...I guess? About as well as we can be, given the situation. The guy’s got me kinda relyin’ on ‘im for his goods. Gotta be friendly in that case, or else I’m kinda sunk.”

Taffle’s cheerful disposition fades a bit. “That’s a little...”

“Little what? ...Look, pal-- I don’t mind ya. I don’t mind Link either. It’s just that... our relationship is strictly business. He lends me items, I use ‘em to traverse both lands an’ save each sage that Ganondorf guy stole away. He’s not really one for talkin’, so I won’t press ‘im for anything beyond that.”

The fairy lets out a sigh before flitting over to sit squarely on Ravio’s shoulder. He’s not immediately brushed off like last time, so that’s an improvement. 

“Let... let me let you in on a secret, oh hero: he might not talk a lot to you, but he talks a lot to me. Especially when you’re not around or when you’re holed up in your little corner of the house. Would you like to know what he talks about the most? ...Don’t answer, it’s rhetorical-- he talks a lot about you.”

“Well, duh?” He shrugs and furrows his brow. “I’m, like, his one customer. An’ the guy who’s runnin’ all across kingdom come even though I... eh. S’whatever-- point is, he’s gotta talk about me.”

Taffle starts to stretch out on his little perch. “That’s not what I meant. Now before you get your cynical little tights in a twist, hear me out. I mean he talks about, well, you in a friendly way. He’s... well, he thinks you’re pretty-- pretty interesting. Interesting, funny...”

“You goofed there.”

“No I didn’t. I paused for effect. Anyway... he thinks you’ve got a neat sense of humor, even if it gets... a little worrisome. You’ve got a wicked sense of gallows humor, is what I’m saying.”

“...He worries about the jokes I make? They’re just jokes. They don’t mean nothin’. An’ don’t you correct my grammar again, firefly.”

“Goodness, you’re a little defensive today! But, see, that’s my whole point. You wouldn’t be defensive over them and snappy at me if they didn’t mean anything. It’s clearly a... what’s the word...”

Ravio reaches a hand to his shoulder, cringing internally when Taffle flinches at the movement. He’s been... not a nice guy to the little thing, has he. ...He flattens his palm and motions for the other to hop on, before holding his hand outward so he doesn’t have to crane his neck to make eye contact anymore.

“Copin’ mechanism.” It’s a blank, matter-of-fact answer, one he’s heard before. Taffle doesn’t like how it sounds.

“...Yes, actually. It’s a coping mechanism. For stress. ...Listen. He really worries about you, okay? Not because you’re the hero and everything, we’re past that point. He worries because... I don’t know. He cares about you.”

Ravio’s expression softens. He’s quiet now, turning his head away so Taffle doesn’t get to see how wet his eyes are getting.

“...I don’t think he should.”

Taffle, used to this sudden change in body language from Link, tones down the lecturer voice pretty quickly.

“You’re a really nice guy, Rav. He and I think so. You might put on that cold and aloof mask all the time, but we can see right through it. ...Didn’t you tell me, once, it was funny how Link should be the aloof one because of his outfit? If anything, you’re the lone wolf here.

But you don’t have to be.

...You could let us in.”

He wants to put Taffle down, clench his fists and say something dismissive like usual. But a part of him just... isn’t letting that happen. Goddammit, he hates getting close to people. That’s how he gets hurt.

Ravio takes in a deep, deep breath, letting it out as a loud enough sigh to stir Link in his sleep.

“...I feel like I’ve been given this talk before, but okay. I’ll be more personable around the guy. No promises on some magical friendship filled with deep discussions an’ late nights, though.”

At that, Taffle lights up.

“Now that’s the spirit, Mr. Hero.”