#teba botw

Well. He can’t exactly just fly down there and introduce himself.

The princess is unmistakably the princess. Teba soars a broad circle around them, chirping to himself. He recognizes Link from the weird memory magic stuff he’d dealt with. The Sheikah with them… it’s gotta be Impa, right? She looks like Paya.

Golden Goddesses. How the hell is he gonna start this conversation?

He clicks his beak and flies ahead. Most monsters had turned tail when him and Mipha had slain the lynel, but a stubborn few were trying to set up camps. Some of them were dangerously close to the path— they probably wouldn’t be much trouble for the kids, but he might as well try and clear the way. That is why he’s out and about in the first place.

Teba lands at the largest one he finds, gathering up loose tails. None of the weapons are really worth taking (he’s got a couple longswords he’d like to get rid of first anyway). Really, there’s no loot better than the handful of shock arrows… oh well. Something is better than—

A Guardian beeps behind him.

He doesn’t have a shield.

There’s a second between sound and shot— he flings himself to the side, frantic— a ragged squawk escapes him— his bow slips in shaking talons— fuck, fuck, fuck—

What the fuck is that—?

Feathers fluffed, heart thundering in his ears, he stares down— an egg?

His breath comes in a struggling gasp. There’s ice in his veins. There’s no target, no laser. It’s a fucking egg.

He’s looking at an egg. Teba hisses thinly. Hylia above. Damned Guardians.

“Get back here!” A distant voice yells, accompanied by the sounds of someone charging through the brush.

Teba stares at the stupid thing. It whistles at him like it thinks it’s cute.

The Sheikah woman— Impa— emerges from the leaves. “You little—!” She sees him and stops, heaving with another harsh breath. Noticing his panic, she spins to scan the empty encampment; finding nothing, she barks, “You!”

He stares at her for an embarassingly long moment. “Me,” he finally croaks. His ribcage still feels like it’s stuck in a vice. He resettles his feathers, swaying when he stands. Goddesses above. It’s been a while since he’s had a straight shot of Guardian adrenaline. It chirps up at him innocently; he shudders.

The one who must be Impa folds her arms at him, eyes intense. “You’re Teba, right?”

“Uh,” he says, eloquent as ever. He figured he would be the one inexplicably knowing them, not the other way around. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he starts slowly, “how do you know that?” She marches off back the way she came, gesturing for him to follow; confused, he obliges.

“Your wife told us.”

“My wife?!” Teba lurches forward, feathers fluffing. He looks around like Saki might suddenly appear— which, to be fair, that does seem to be happening a lot— and of course finds nothing. He hadn’t seen her during any of his flyovers. Struggling to keep his voice even, he repeats, “My wife. Is she with you?”

Impa shakes her head. “She’s at the Ancient Tech Lab with the royal scientists,” she explains, “Your kid is there as well.”

Saki and Tulin are also a century in the past with no idea what the hell is going on.  Teba blinks. He can’t decide if that’s better or worse than being alone. “Okay,” he manages.

When they clear the brush and get back to the path, there’s people waiting for them. Impa gestures to one of them, looking pointedly at Teba. “Princess Zelda of Hyrule.”

Teba bows. “Highness,” he greets. He pauses, looking at Mipha, and amends, “Highnesses.” She smiles at him, even as he raises an eyebrow. “I thought your father said not to come down here.”

Mipha’s smile freezes on her face— still looking pleasant and polite but suddenly much less genuine. Before she can explain herself, he shakes his head.

Tired but fond, Teba says, “You’re just like your brother.” He folds his wings affectionately. “Well, there shouldn’t be any trouble between here and the Domain. No sense sending you back now.”

“Thank you, Teba,” Mipha murmurs, sheepish. She seems to fall into step with Link, trotting happily back to the Domain.

Trying not to think of the armor gathering dust in a chest somewhere, Teba asks, “How exactly did you run into Saki?”

“She saved us,” Zelda explains, looking at him over her shoulder. “I imagine it is similar to what happened to you— we were in danger, and she seemingly appeared from nowhere to come to our aid.” She fidgets with the Sheikah Slate in her hands; Teba’s wing drifts to his out of habit. The buzz of the ancient tech is a comfort. “There are others as well; we expect to meet them when we meet the others.”

“From what we’ve gathered,” Impa interjects gently, glancing to the princess for permission, “you’ve all been brought here by the little one.” She nudges the little Guardian with a foot, making a face.

“The egg brought us here?” Teba, too, makes a face. Damn Guardians. Damn magical ancient tech. He sighs softly; he’s got a good guess of who the others are, if there’s one for each pilot. “Mixed us up,” he notes lowly. Hopefully Sidon hadn’t been sent to the desert— then he would have to figure out how to scold a Guardian.

Mipha giggles, unaware of the possible danger her future-brother was in. Teba grimaces. This whole thing is going to get confusing. She laughs, “It does sort of look like an egg, doesn’t it?”

The Guardian whistles indignantly, smacking at Teba’s legs with a tiny hand. “You look like an egg, that’s not my fault,” he tells it. It smacks at him some more. He ignores it. “So, you… know about the time travel thing.”

“To an extent, yes,” Zelda hums. Link looks at him for just a moment, saying nothing.

Impa casts Teba a glance over her shoulder. “I imagine the scientists will still want to pick your brains, though.”

“Figures,” he sighs. He finally aknowledge’s Mipha’s incredulous look, half-shrugging under her scrutiny. “Sorry. Kind of a hard thing to explain.”

“I… suppose I wouldn’t have believed you anyway,” Mipha manages, reigning in her expression somewhat. “You’re from…”

“The future.” Impa folds her arms. (The little Guardian finally gives up on trying to trip Teba and darts back to the princess, chirping.) “A century into the future, ish.”

“Ah. I suppose that explains your strange looks,” Mipha hums, still hesitant, “You must have been expecting me to be much older.”

Oh. Something in Teba’s chest twists. He tries not to grimace. “Something like that.” He steps on to the Great Zora Bridge, clearing his throat. “I, uh, figure the rest of this conversation can wait until we’re outta the Domain again? No offense,” he manages, shifting from spur to talon, “but I feel like this sorta thing is… not… something to be vocal about.”

“Probably not,” Impa hums. She looks to Zelda, who nods her agreement.

About halfway down the bridge, Mipha’s strides falter.

“Princess,” she starts, pausing thickly. She closes her eyes and takes a breath. “Father will not let me pilot the Divine Beast.” Mipha’s eyes are sharp and steely; she looks at Zelda with an unshakeable certainty. “I will. Whatever happens, Princess— I am with you.”

Zelda stares at her, maybe awed, maybe concerned. She nods. “And I am with you.”

…

“Mipha… pilot the Divine Beast?” King Dorephan tilts his head, considering.

Mipha folds her hands behind her back and doesn’t say anything. Poseidon stands to her left, not paying any attention; at her right is Teba, who seems to be very intentionally not looking at anyone.

“Yes,” Zelda nods, half-stepping forward. “My father, King Rhoam, has faith she will do her utmost… with your permission, of course.”

“Hm. This will be a dangerous mission, piloting the divine beast against the darkness.” He sits back in his throne, words carefully measured. “And I understand that the knight who will seal the darkness has not yet appeared.”

Zelda reluctantly nods. “That is true.”

“I must refuse. I cannot send my daughter into such peril.”

Mipha winces. Zelda, pleading, surges forward.“But I—”

“Your Majesty!” A soldier charges into the room, out of breath. Mipha can’t place him— she internally reprimands herself for not knowing one of her own. “I bring news!” The king nods at him; Zelda steps out of the way. Teba’s wing goes to his bow. “It regards the princess—” he nocks an arrow; Mipha blinks at him, silently asking him not to shoot one of her men— “and her impending doom!”

There’s a great poof, red papers scattering everywhere. Teba is in the air loosing arrows before anybody knows what’s going on; when the smoke clears, there’s Yiga. Not just the false solider, but dozens. Mipha curses, drawing her trident; she darts forward with the others, glancing behind her to confirm somebody stays with Poseidon.

“An ambush— here?!” Impa charges into battle beside her, kodachi catching moonlight.

Zelda’s strange Sheikah Slate lights up in her hand; shards of ice lurch from it, knocking into Yiga masks and sticking out from their uniform. “They must have followed us here,” she hisses; guilt burns like fire in her eyes.

“Well, then let’s make ‘em regret it!” Teba calls. He shoots ahead of Mipha, clearing a path for her to get to the actual Zora; unspoken, he watches her back as she carves them a path out of the frey.

Link remains with Zelda; he cuts a circle around her as she lobs attacks into the distant crowd. Impa flashes in blue streaks across the plaza, shoving foes into the water when she can’t cut them down.

They repel their foes from the Domain itself only to find more waiting for them. Those with bows nock shock arrows; Mipha sees a few thunderspears flitting in the night. She curses.

Teba lands next to her, his Sheikah Slate glowing at his hip. “How do you feel about a Divine Beast crash course?”

“What— right now?!”

He shoves her to the side, a shock arrow whizzing past them. Their attacker recieves several ice arrows in reply. “Electric weapons, kid! Bein’ on Ruta will get you outta the way—” she glowers at him, and he quickly continues, “—and give us the advantage!”

Mipha stabs a blademaster between the ribs, leaving him bleeding. Teba’s herding her toward the Reservoir. “You know where Ruta is?”

“Same place she always is!” Teba lands in front of her, 0ffering a wing for her to— climb… on? “It’s faster if we fly. Let’s move!”

Left with no room to protest, she’s forced to hold on for dear life as Teba surges through the air. Over the East Reservoir, he glides a circle; something blue shimmers below the surface.

He whistles, long and loud, a sharp set of notes that Mipha must have heard before but can’t place her finger on. He hovers for a moment, watching what must be lights in the water. Lowly, he murmurs, “Rise and shine, Ruta.”

And then he folds his wings in and drops.

Mipha cries out, scrambling to hold on tighter. Her heart pounds in her ears louder than the whistling wind. Usually, when she jumps like this, she’s expecting it— she’s freefalling, unable to dive because of her grasp on Teba—

The great beast erupts from the water.

At once they’re soaring again, though it takes the pounding in her chest a while to catch up with that; she’s gasping, head practically buried in Teba’s feathers. “Was that— really neccessary?!”

“Sorry, kid!” Teba calls to her, not sounding very sorry at all. They glide in an arc around the beast, its eyes turning, water pouring from its trunk. It’s beautiful, in a strange, frightening way. The fear and the awe leave her breathless.

Teba, with a soft reverence in his eyes, casts her a glance. “Ready?”

“Ready for what?!” Beauty forgotten, Mipha grabs on to him again, preparing for a drop. He laughs as they descend— much slower now— toward the beast.

…

The others remain around the Domain, all but oblivious to the flight and the pilot. They’re backed by Zora soldiers, now, even though they’re skittish around the electric attacks. King Dorephan himself marches forward to hold the line. His greatsword leaves divots in the earth when it does not cleave Yiga; their blood is swept from his blade by the falling rain.

A blademaster surges forward with his thunderblade. The king prepares to clash swords— only to be knocked back by a great light.

He is unharmed, only stunned; the Yiga, however, is simply gone. Shards of ice the size of a lynel slice through the air, weaving somehow past every Zora and finding marks in every Yiga.

Defending them, scattering the inverted eye, is the Divine Beast. He cannot see her, but he knows who drives it— his daughter.

Within moments, the enemy is fleeing.

…

“This attack proves your point,” the king murmurs, “We are woefully unprepared to defend against the Calamity.” He surveys the room with careful eyes, lingering on the young Poseidon. “The Zora will face this peril head-on. We must consider the future.”

Mipha casts a look to Teba. He looks to Poseidon as well; she follows his gaze.

“We all share this land of Hyrule, so all of us must do our part.” King Dorephan closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath. “Mipha. Attend.”

She tries not to look too eager as she steps forward. “Yes, Father.”

“You will become the pilot of the Divine Beast Vah Ruta.” He nods at her. She recognizes the fear in his eyes, despite his regal posturing. “On one condition… you must promise to come back safely.”

Teba returns to pointedly not looking at anyone. In the corner of her eye, she sees Impa and the princess share a look.