#wedding fever

Is it a clear night? Can you see the Aurora Borealis? she’d asked him once.

It’s just to my left.

It must be beautiful.

He’d given it a sidelong glance. I suppose it is.

I would love to ride Ruta up to Hebra someday and see for myself.

Or, if you want to get here before you die of old age, I could fly Medoh down to Lanayru and fetch you, he’d countered with a smirk.

Ruta is not slow!

All right. Maybe he enjoys it just a little.

And so, as tends to happen when one become accustomed to something, it’s both jarring and upsetting when the display on the console is blank, not just once, but three mornings in a row.

At first he’s miffed. And then he’s worried. But if she’d been hurt, word surely would’ve gotten to Hyrule Castle by now, and they would pass the message on to the rest of the Champions. Wouldn’t they?

He swallows his pride and sends a message first. Just to make sure she hasn’t been mortally wounded.

Has Ruta finally capsized?

He drums his feathers. Her response isn’t slow in coming, but it feels it. Like time suddenly collapsed under the weight of its own steadiness, laboring for a few, displaced seconds.

No. Ruta is perfectly upright, she informs him primly. There’s a span where that seems to be the whole message. No explanation, no nothing. It makes him think that maybe he’s been the one acting strange, expecting correspondence when he’s owed none. The display flickers again: I’m sorry I’ve been keeping to myself. I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days.

His brow furrows. What is he supposed to do, pry?

It’s fine, he says, though he’s not really sure it is. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.

That’s prudent.

I thought so.

The silence stretches. He thinks maybe that’s the end of it, and has no idea if there’ll be another message waiting for him in the morning. The whole encounter feels… very unsatisfying, somehow.

He’s about to walk away when the display flickers again.

I thought I’d made a decision, but when the time came to act on it I didn’t follow through.

He’s hesitant to reply to that. He’s not sure he’s confidant material. Scratch that—he’s sure he isn’t confidant material. But she knows him well enough to know he won’t coddle her. If he’s the one she wants to tell, he’ll at least have the decency not to tune her out.

Second-guessing yourself? Doesn’t sound like you.

Well, I knew I was going to be disappointed, and I wanted to spare myself that. But in hindsight I think it was the cowardly thing to do. And now I doubt I’ll have the opportunity again.

Maybe it was. And it seems to me you haven’t spared yourself much if you’re still wallowing over it.

Perhaps that’s true.

The silence stretches again. It feels heavier, gummy, and he’s struck with the awful sensation that he misspoke. He’s never bothered worrying about minutiae like hurt feelings before now, what is she doing to him?! In his panic, he mashes,

So what’s this golden opportunity you’ve let slip through your fingers?

I was going to propose to someone. I even made him the ceremonial armor. But I think he has feelings for someone else.

Revali blinks. Propose, as in marriage? That is heinous. His vision pulses red for reasons he deliberately does not dwell on, not least among them that someone had the audacity to break her heart.

He sounds like an idiot. You’re better off.

He’s really not! He’s one of the kindest souls I’ve ever known.

Well if he’s fool enough to look elsewhere when he has your attention, then he’s an idiot.

He blinks again. The message is sitting there, utterly irretrievable, staring obliviously back at him.

You really think so?

He glares. Well he can’t exactly recant now, can he?

Yes.

He folds his wings. Just daring her to milk him for more. Because he is fresh out of compliments.

Thank you, Revali. You’re a good friend.

He humphs. He should tell her off. Say something snide, like warn her not to get used to it. Instead he settles for, Yes, well. I’m stuck in your corner now.

It’s not quite as acidic as he meant it to be. But he supposes it’ll do for now.

He spends the night on Medoh’s wings, watching the Aurora Borealis glisten against an inky sky.

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