#triiforced

so with a ribbon still twined through his hair and still wearing his snowquill armor, link gave a small wave over to mipha once she noticed him and jogged the rest of the way over to her. as his steps slowed down when he neared, he began to rummage through his pouch, moving small trinkets and elixirs aside before finally pulling out a small bag and holding it out to mipha. it was full of wildberries, freshly picked just two days beforehand, and for once, link was glad for the cold weather. it kept the fruit frozen and fresh enough to withstand the journey back. although ... a few of them were probably squashed. a hazard of horseback riding and fighting.

How those ember-orange eyes glow, at the sight of them. How each step packs more noticeable spring at the heft of the bag slung over his wiry back. How the previous silence ( which would unnerve most save Tatl and Tael, who were accustomed to it ) was now cut by cheery, sharp whistling. A familiar melody, a fairy boy from the woods… Mischief truly warms his heart. 

Lunch is spent by a riverbank, carefully lining this unique haul out among the grass to be appraised. Tael favors the uglier ones, Tatl the animals. Skull Kid himself settles juggles them all before settling, finally, on a large mustached face with a red cap, capital M. There’s something charming about it, he thinks, so charming it’s worth a cartwheel – he does three before talk turns to what is to be done with them. They’re of little use, after all, and despite his love of colorful nothings they add too much collective weight. Their own theater? Handing them out to the kokiri? Selling them? No, no – it has to be more! 

And then it dawns on him: Tael visibly wanes as the plan is laid out, which means it’s absolutely the one they must go with. Each mask will be affixed to a branch twenty ( or thirty, he hasn’t decided ) feet up on a dense cluster of trees, one per tree, an easy and enjoyable task as he’s well-suited for climbing. And as he descends, he’ll remove any branches immediately available to the ground. The first fifteen feet ought to do it.

    There they stand, scissors still in hand, surrounded by     the carnage that was once their shirts. They examine     the mess, then scarlet eyes are raised, meeting Midna’s    gaze, an eyebrow quirking as they speak.

cries why did we do this to them?

          Don’t mind him as he pulls Janus as close against himself as possible, laughter on his lips as he eagerly kisses him back- there’s a flood of butterflies taking flight in his chest, his ears are lopsided (one perked one drooped, neither knowing how to react to how flustered and happy he was), and his heart is racing so hard it feels it might simply burst from his chest at any moment- but. He’s happy; dearly and truly happy, there’s stars in his eyes as he parts from the kiss to rest their foreheads together, he’s breathless from amazement and from the ache in his heart telling him that yes he loves you too Janus. 

         More than he should 

          it’d only been a few hours since the sorceress rendezvoused with the army, two new allies walking beside her -- faces that give the softest vibe of familiarity, but nothing that the knight could say with certainty. UNNERVING, he’d call the feeling twisting within his gut as he watches them both from a distance, but nothing else. he’d hope, until they faced hell on the battlefield, that he could avoid them both.

          unfortunately, as masterful as he may be at keeping distances,  the twili -- midna, if he remembers right from their earlier introductions -- seems less interested as she floats over to him.

   Link had worked hard to find the man, which had surprised him seeing how eccentric the mask salesman was. During his travels, he recalled seeing and hearing of the red-haired man many times. Maybe he was laying low now, something he could imagine Janus doing. Losing the mask gave him quite the fright, or at least it seemed that way all those years ago.

   But Link would not just leave so easily, he had a bone to pick with him and his masks. He was angry, at the mask salesman, and at himself for being naive enough to trust him. If he’d know the infinite evil was going to be sticking around, he would have destroyed it himself. But instead he trusted the humble looking merchant with the mask.

   He should have known that no man was strong enough to resist the urges of that mask. Even Link himself was tempted to wear it, just once, it took everything he had just to leave it be. But this did not excuse the man, he was urgent about getting the mask back even after it was stolen. Which meant it wasn’t Majora’s doing that it was still around.

   Something so evil needed to be destroyed, this much he knew, he wouldn’t allow what happened in Termina happen in Hyrule. The mask’s existence only served to taunt him with what he wasn’t able to finish. Which was once the Deity’s goals, were now his own. The mask had to be destroyed, and the monster inside it vanquished for good.