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"I see you’re obviously kept around for your pretty face, rather than your attention span.”
He doesn't know what, exactly, compels him to say it. Boredom, maybe; irritation, perhaps: both are compounded by the air of dazed inattention worn by the knight next to him. If Link thought he might get away with it, well, he could think again.
But as far as phrasing goes… his comment is a far cry from the words he'd usually favour when confronted with Link's dull, expressionless visage.
Perhaps Revali ought to have guarded his tongue a little better, and not let that particular observation slip. But it’s not exactly untrue – Link is remarkably fair-featured for a Hylian. The true misfortune comes from elsewhere: his personality is lacklustre, and he's altogether too arrogant to accept that Revali is more than capable of matching – no, exceeding his prowess in combat.
That sword on his back is the only thing he's got going for him. That and his face. Asides from those, he really is nothing special.
Still, Revali does have eyes, and even he can't deny that Link is far from uncomely. The combination of gold and blue would be far more striking on a Rito, but in certain lights his hair takes on a kind of sheen that's almost, but not quite, a facsimile of iridescence. For a Hylian, it's almost attractive.
But otherwise, he's not Revali's type at all.
Mipha drags him out of the digression his thoughts were turning towards; she shoots Revali a tight-lipped glare, as though warning him that he's overstepped. Hardly. Though Revali will confess to being somewhat fond of Mipha, she truly does have an astonishing lack of taste, the way she favours and coddles Link. Just look at the man – he's clearly floundering, incapable of following the thread of Purah's rapid lecturing on the topic of ancient technology. If Revali didn't have such a vested interest in finding the knight unlikeable, he might have a moment to spare for pity.
As it is, he refuses to give in to anything of the kind.
Speaking of Link… in the wake of Revali's comment, the tips of Link's ears have gone red.
That's… interesting.
Hyruleans can be notoriously hard to read, for the Rito. As frustrating as the more expressionless members of their species can be, guards and soldiers and dull-witted knights chief among them, so too are the emotive ones – too mercurial, too quick to change which feelings they displayed across the plucked, bare canvas of their faces.
But certain wanderers among the Rito, who've spent longer periods of time amongst the Hyruleans than Revali has ever had to suffer through, have made something of a study of their strange features.
Such findings, the would-be sleuths point out, are far more accurate to the paler-skinned Hylians and Sheikah of the northern and eastern corners of Hyrule. Particularly when compared to the people who make their homes out among the wet, humid regions of Faron, where some of the Hebran tribes' southern cousins choose to live. But Revali deals with those northern groups most regularly, so the study helps, somewhat.
When faces flush red, that means anger.
Revali can't take his eyes off the red staining Link's ears. He cannot quite believe it. To have finally provoked a reaction from Link, and this was what did it? Commentary on his appearance?
He must be imagining it, or else it's a trick of the light, but – no. When he tilts his head slightly, trying to determine quite whether the red flush on Link's ears is truly there or not, he spots another telltale sign. Behind Link's far leg, Revali can see the lump of his fist, fingers curled up tight.
Link… truly is angry.
Completely without intention, Revali has at last succeeded in provoking a proper reaction from him.
…It took Link long enough to respond.
Still. High on his own daring, Revali steps into the circle of space that Link prefers to keep around him. It is truly interesting to see how he fights the twitch of his hand, trying to keep it tamed and heavy. Losing, if the way he moves into a parade posture – feet planted, hands folded neatly behind him, eyes straight in front – is any indication. Revali is almost amused by it. He pitches his voice low. "Could it be that you realise you're out of your depth?"
For the briefest of seconds, but captured with all the clarity of the princess' picto-rune, a gap forms in Link's stony facade. His eyes narrow in a way Revali can't decipher, similar to but not entirely the same as the expression he'd briefly sported the day of the ceremony, when his attention had so fleetingly turned Revali's way.
Revali has been chasing that attention ever since – and more than that, but the desire to turn Link's focus from mere attention to actual acknowledgement is something he can't overlook.
That must be why he does it. Leaning in further, searching for the perfect angle from which he can drive home his advantage, Revali starts to say, "Perhaps, you…"
On the other side of the room, Urbosa coughs pointedly.
The reminder of an audience has Revali straightening up and moving away before anyone else can spot his inattention. But when he risks a glance back, Link's ears are still burning hot and red. It's a wonder nobody else has noticed them yet. It's a wonder he's managed to hide his own lapse in composure as well.
But the more he glances at Link, and finds that he cannot disregard the slowly-receding flush that demonstrates Link is far from the statue he pretends at being, the more Revali's interest grows.
It should be far below his dignity, but… Revali wants to do it again.
Except he doesn't know how to go about it.
Fascinating as it is to realise that Link actually has enough of a personality under that stoic face of his to even have dislikes and preferences – truly, the man most often seems utterly bereft of anything that approaches character, this being only the third time the mask has slipped in front of Revali…
Revali has analysed it from every angle, and this is the conclusion he's reaching: it might not be that Link has a dislike for commentary on his appearance. After all, he can be no stranger to attention: baffling as it is that anyone finds him interesting enough to give him more than a second glance, there's no shortage of people watching him, and there's been more than one occasion when a maid or a seller at market has laughed that little too long, has snuck shy glances and tugged at her hair in a way not dissimilar to how a young adult Rito would go about their first fumbling efforts at courtship – and Link responds to each and every one of them with the same dull indifference that he wears at all times.
Not a single one of them has brought out that crease of irritation, that flush of anger.
So… it must be because Revali is a man.
How very closed-minded of Link.
Idly, it strikes him that if that is that case, then deliberately provoking him might not be all that wise… but Revali promptly discards that thought. Revali's position makes him nigh untouchable; Link would do well to remember that, if he truly took issue.
And besides, such things might not be common for Hylians, but it's far from unusual among Revali's own people. Really, Link should learn how to be more tolerant.
—
Yes, Revali is quite certain that there's no problem with this course of action.
—
And there's no shortage of things Revali can needle him about. While Link's insistence on silence is quickly removed from the list – something about the mockery he overhears through a window of a certain corner of the guards' barracks has Revali quickly and decisively decide that that goes much too far – there are still many other things. His utter failure to keep himself to an appropriate standard of neatness, for one. The faint stains that mar his clothing are one thing. Revali can't hold that against him when his own armour is similarly battered and worn – not for them, the pristine parade uniforms that make it clear certain personages within Hyrule's haven't so much as sniffed a battlefield in their lives – but his hair. Has it never known a comb? It's utterly unbefitting his station – even if Link, too, is hardly worthy of the honour he's been appointed to – and so Revali makes sure to point this out.
Sometimes, there's a brief moment where it even appears to be in better order, after Revali's passed comment and Link's passed briefly out of his sight. But it's inevitably a mess again within minutes, as though the faintest touch of wind is enough to tie it in knots, and Revali is frankly appalled. Braids would clearly be better at keeping that scruff of hair tamed —
— It takes him a moment to recall that Hylians… don't do that.
He stays his hand.
Oh, yes, and then there's the utter recklessness with which he throws himself into battle, and the way he insists on trying to swap between his sword and shield and his bow and handling no part of the transition well. He draws and aims like a soldier on a battlement, with time to prepare his shot; it's quite incorrect form for the battlefield. Revali points that out too.
But – and this is the part that startles Revali, when he realises it – but Link listens, and starts to improve.
He starts going out of his way to find Revali, too. On a battlement, or in the half-open shelter of a watchpoint, or a stray balcony where Revali is carrying out maintenance on his bow and checking the condition of his arrows. Sometimes the knight comes bearing a note from Princess Zelda, but other times his hands are empty – or, on one strange and strangely memorable occasion, bringing a box of small fruit tarts which Revali eyed with suspicion, while Link steadfastly failed to offer any explanation for them.
(It was most peculiar. Wildberries aren't common around these parts at all.)
Coincidentally, Link's bow had never been in better condition. He's finally taken to looking after it properly; Revali ought to be pleased about that. At least it proves the knight capable of listening. Still, if that's the only reason he's seeking Revali out, then eventually…
As predicted, eventually the power of Revali's taunts starts to wear off. They no longer evoke the same angry flush at the tips of Link's ears, and though his expression never once changes throughout the whole affair, his overall demeanour gradually shifts from that early annoyance to a bemused sort of tolerance.
And tolerance is even worse than being outright ignored. Revali learned that lesson a long time ago.
Still. Even though his efforts no longer have the same effect, for some reason it doesn't seem to stop Link from continuing to end up where Revali is. That just makes Revali feel… even more strange. With his taunts proving less useful with time and no new strategies for dealing with Link, Revali is left twitchy with displeasure, unsure what to do to make Link react again.
At first, he resolves to keep his distance, a resolution made easier when it becomes apparent that he has no ongoing cause to be at the castle. But it's profoundly irritating that this, too, has no apparent effect. Indeed, Revali's absence, just like his presence, has no demonstrable impact on Link, and not so much as a note wends its way to Hebra. The silence stings.
Well, Revali won't be the one to reach out. It's far from a retreat: any archer worth their name needs to know how to take things steadily, to hold back and observe. It's all the more important with the Rito's aerial techniques – once in flight, the pace of battle can quickly turn as conditions become less than optimal. One has to have utmost confidence before risking engagement with the enemy.
Link… is truthfully far from an enemy; but since he has already proven incapable of recognising Revali as his rival, Revali is at liberty to be similarly short in his disregard. There's nothing else to it.
Really.
Medoh makes a groaning sound as if declaring that it doesn't believe him in the slightest. Revali glares at its back. Why must his Divine Beast take his side, just as everyone else in Hyrule seems eventually inclined? Medoh hasn't even met that insufferable man. It should be safely immune to his charms. His. Not charms. There is nothing charming about Link.
And Revali doesn't resent this distance in the slightest.
He doesn’t.
—
All in all, it should be something of a relief when a summons comes from the castle, Princess Zelda's breathless enthusiasm rendered clear by the faint untidiness of her letters. It means an opportunity to test whether time and distance will render his words effective again; for once, he should be looking forward to encountering that annoying knight.
Unfortunately, even the prospect of reunion brings no respite from the sharp dissatisfaction lodged in Revali's ribs.
Perhaps, if he'd met with Link first…
Instead, the first thing he encounters upon his arrival is rumours.
Apparently Lady Mipha proposed to the princess' sworn knight, and he turned her down…
I heard he only has eyes for Princess Zelda…
Nonsense – where did you hear that?
– manuscript on Asper's desk –
…should know better than to be reading those! anyway, that isn't proof –
Just because you want to think you have a chance!
But there's definitely something going on. My cousin… in the kitchens… swears he saw him smiling …
The thought of Link with an actual expression on his face is just another twist of the knife.
"Shouldn't the lot of you be working?" Revali snaps as he passes the latest cluster of gossips, and derives a petty sort of satisfaction when the mousy-haired one whose friend had accused her of – what was it, wanting a chance with Link – squeaks in alarm and scurries off.
Revali ignores how they scatter. Impertinent. Instead he steels himself for what is to come.
He's not the first to reach the meeting room, but neither is he the last. Daruk and Mipha are already tucked away in a corner, and Urbosa makes her entrance not long after Revali does. She pauses at the threshold, glancing between them as though scouting for proof of battlelines. Not that there are any. As soon as she’s convinced of that, the furrow of her brow evens out.
They’re not kept waiting much longer: within minutes, Princess Zelda arrives with her usual group of Sheikah allies in tow. She marches straight to the long table in the centre of the room, Impa close at her heels with a stack of rolled up paper clutched in her arms, and Revali only has a moment to wonder where the princess’ knight is, if not here, before a quiet and unobtrusive pressure traces over the back of his wing. Startled, he glances to his right. Link is standing there. His hands are down by his sides, but that – Link is the only person who could have come into contact with him. Revali would think it an accident except for how Link refuses, usually, to let other people come into his circle of personal space. Rude of him to not extend the same courtesy to Revali. That being said, he doesn't feel like moving away. It would only draw more attention. Urbosa's gaze has already drifted across to them.
Revali glares back at her as though this is the most normal thing in the world and she's the one making an issue of it.
The princess spares him the need to do anything else to chase Urbosa off. For once she gets straight to the point.
It might help if Revali could focus on it. For the most part, her explanation goes completely over his head. He's too busy darting glances at Link, trying to determine whether any of the rumours hold even a grain of truth. Unfortunately, Link's face is the last place where Revali should be looking for answers; it's as blank as ever.
He does manage to take in the gist of what Princess Zelda and Purah are saying, despite his inattention. The basics of it are simple enough, even if he's too distracted to fully pay heed to the details of these so-called defensive systems that Mipha inadvertently discovered; and those basics are enough to make him irritated all over again.
What it comes down to is this: he's to remain with Vah Medoh until further notice. Despite the fact that Revali's talents are clearly and demonstrably put to better use elsewhere, he is once again relegated to a sideline role. But worse than before, now he is to play the part of a mere messenger and – research assistant. It's laughable.
It's not even any consolation that Daruk and Urbosa are in similar positions as him, or that Mipha too is tasked with learning more. In Revali's eyes, it just means that they're all being disregarded.
Another subtle brush of fingers against the back of his wing, as though Link is seeking to check on him. Wishful thinking, he's sure; Revali doubts that supposition is the slightest bit correct, and indeed, a brief glance at Link's face finds him as stony and distant as ever.
It's as frustrating as he's ever known it, and Revali doesn't even have the opportunity to confront Link. No prospect of privacy. They're stuck in the others' company the whole time.
Not even when they're dismissed, and Link is given leave to accompany them to the castle gates, does Revali find an opportunity to get Link alone.
He trails behind, glaring at their backs.
Link appears at his shoulder. He's only a little shorter than Revali, but the difference is still enough to make him have to look up; Revali's stomach swoops in a discomfiting way. He feels almost trapped by that bright sliver of blue.
"What are you looking at," he mutters, trying to convince himself that he's most certainly overthinking it.
Link huffs, ever so slightly, little more than an exhalation. But Revali recognises that sound – in Link's mouth, it's almost amusement. As Link's focus drops away and he moves to rejoin the others by the gate, the echo of it in Revali's auricles drives him to consider something very, very unwise.
He can't help it. Except he can, and really the point is that he wants to: Revali pursues, catching up to Link easily, and leans his head down, just a little, to where the jut of Link's pointed ear is far too exposed, and as he passes by he —
Yes, just like preening, or as close as one can get when the other party is quite lacking in feathers.
Yes, exactly as one might do with a partner, in the later stages of courtship.
Yes, like…
Oh. Revali is struck by the feeling that he has definitely overstepped, this time. He almost doesn't want to look, dreading what he'll see, but despite that, he cannot pass up the opportunity to know whether his actions met their target.
They did, and the proof is not just on Link’s ears this time: his entire face has gone red, as if he’s gone beyond anger to fury, and on the ear Revali had bitten a mark is forming, already stark and growing angrier by the second —
And almost as bad: behind Link, Urbosa bears incredulous witness. Her eyebrows are doing an impressive job of climbing her forehead. Her expression folds into consideration, and Revali —
He —
He has to go.
He fumbles his way through a dismissal; he absolutely cannot afford to fumble through the subsequent Gale, and that means steadfastly refusing to look at Link again, not even a glance back as the figures below shrink to specks.
He does the only thing he can think to do, under the circumstances.
He sets course for Hebra…
…and flies straight to Vah Medoh.
Of course he does. There's nowhere else he could think of going; nobody can reach him there, so he’ll be able to interrogate and lambast himself in peace. And…
He…
Despite everything… Since when had he —
He is left entirely wrong-footed, and it’s all his own fault. His heart is a maelstrom of turmoil. He doesn't know how to approach the turbulent thoughts that rage in his head, and so he tries to outrace them, as though he can leave them behind as easily as he abandoned Link and the others at the castle gate.
Even worse than the thought of Link is the memory of that knowing expression that climbed Urbosa's face, the haze of subtle confusion over Mipha's as she registered that something was afoot. What do they think they’ve figured out? Just what do they believe they know? If even a single person has figured out the change in his regard for Link, he doubts he can ever face them again.
And more than anything, he realises how foolish he's been. All this time. Pretending at indifference. How utterly asinine. How dare he be interesting. How dare he turn Revali into – this !
This was never supposed to happen!
Medoh’s lights loom ahead of him, bright and far too blue in the darkening sky – that same maddening blue! He’s being chased by the colour, it seems. Ordinarily, he would make for Medoh’s back; not so today. He aims for the landing platform at its rear; he wants to hide away, to air his grievances with Medoh or lock them away in his diary, but regardless…!
Medoh groans. In the periphery of his vision, a point on its wing lights up.
That’s the only warning Revali gets.
Seconds later, he’s forced to veer off course as a wave of energy cuts past him, so close that it almost singes his tail feathers.
He hangs there, struggling to maintain altitude; his mind goes numb. All he can think, all he manages to say, is a numb, “What?”
Medoh makes that groaning sound again. Revali can barely see it past the shifting pattern of blue light that envelopes its entire body.
“MEDOH!” he shrieks. “What are you DOI— Argh!”
The energy crackles as he draws too close; the air has a taste like the aftermath of a lightning strike. He doesn’t dare get any closer. Circling Vah Medoh, it’s the same from every angle, every vantage point, and the cannons at its extremities, which no efforts have ever managed to bring online, look to be tracking him.
At least it doesn’t open fire.
He circles it until he starts to tire — he’s already flown to Central Hyrule and back, and now this… betrayal! From his own Divine Beast! — but just when he’s on the cusp of leaving in frustration, the barrier starts to recede…
He flies back hopefully. Medoh promptly retaliates, putting its barrier back up, and no matter of cursing or invective will persuade it to stop.
When it gets too dark to be continuing with this nonsense, Revali relents and returns to the village. At least the miserable situation with Link can be put to one side for now; now he has an even greater problem, in the form of Medoh’s flagrant disobedience. Defence systems – they’d activated somehow, but why now, and why with Revali on entirely the wrong side of them? Shouldn’t that be entirely besides the point?
How is he supposed to turn them off ?
In the morning, he scribes a terse message for their fastest scout to take to the castle, immediately, no detours – “Your hypothesis, Princess, would appear to be correct” – before redoubling his efforts to break past Medoh's inconvenient decision to discover its hereto unknown defensive capabilities. The forcefield covers it almost entirely, save for the four turrets that continue to track his movements – but, thankfully, still refrain from opening fire.
Medoh's disloyalty only extends so far.
The princess arrives quickly. But even at her fastest pace, it still takes the better part of days, and Revali does not want to be stuck waiting. Everyone in the village knows that something’s wrong; he feels their eyes chasing him. He resents it. His own efforts at understanding the barrier are going nowhere. There’s an obvious solution for breaking through, but Revali is loath to commit to that unless there really is no other way.
As soon as she arrives, the princess orders Revali straight back into trying everything that he had already attempted, and it makes his temper worse by the second. Even worse than that, Link – who had of course come with her to Tabantha – nonetheless fails to accompany Princess Zelda to the Landing, instead giving Revali a wide berth.
Revali doesn’t want to see Link. It just rankles that Link is so deliberately and obviously avoiding him.
Between forays to Vah Medoh, Princess Zelda peppers him with questions like a barrage of needles; they stick like aggravating burrs in his feathers, and it’s all he can do to dislodge them. During her long and incessant interrogation, she asks repeated variations along the lines of, “But did you do anything to activate it?” and, “Did it seem like there was anything in particular that set it off?” and, “Will you fly the Sheikah Slate up there? We might at least get some readings from it.”
No; not to his knowledge; oh, and how, pray tell, would he get close enough to gather data when that forcefield came up as soon as he approached, and covered any and all access points?
Princess Zelda hesitates at that point. She looks up at the wheeling shape of Vah Medoh overhead. There is no sign of the forcefield for now, but they exhausted every plan and angle of approaching it earlier. No matter from which direction he approaches Vah Medoh, the barrier goes back up as soon as he’s within thirty yards of it. At one point the princess had suggested he try to gain height on Vah Medoh and dive to its back. But even with as much speed as he could muster, Medoh was faster: the barrier formed before he reached it, and he’d barely swerved in time to avoid collision.
“Perhaps there would be sufficient ambient radiation from the forcefield for the Sheikah Slate to detect it regardless,” Princess Zelda says, but even she sounds rather less than certain about her new hypothesis. Revali cannot summon enough scorn to reply.
He has one small consolation: Vah Medoh’s capabilities are far superior, defensively, than Vah Ruta choosing to throw ice at people. However, the circumstances leave him utterly unimpressed. Vah Medoh should have found some way of demonstrating this skill that didn’t come at Revali’s own expense. Instead, he looks like he cannot adequately command his Divine Beast. It’s quite infuriating.
He can’t shake the conviction that Medoh is doing this to spite him. He cannot figure out a way to bypass the barrier without raising his bomb arrows against his Divine Beast, and he is not going to open fire on Vah Medoh.
He is tired, and irritated, and most frustrating of all, Link is still avoiding him.
“Is there anything that could be causing discord in your bond with Medoh?” the princess asks, unintentionally echoing the turn of Revali’s own thoughts from earlier – doing this to spite me.
Revali makes an outraged sound. “Of course not,” he snaps. It’s – that’s completely preposterous! “What reason would I have to be in turmoil?”
Princess Zelda blinks at him guilelessly. “I thought… Oh.”
Whatever that was about, she chooses not to elaborate. “It’s late,” she says, gathering up the Slate and her journals. “Perhaps we should try again in the morning.”
Revali glares at Vah Medoh, which turns innocent circles in the sky above Rito Village as though it hasn’t been making itself the bane of his existence these past few days.
He’d still rather face Vah Medoh than that other bane loitering somewhere nearby.
“Would you escort me to the inn, please?” the princess says, a little pointedly – yes, right. In the absence of her knight, he is of course expected to step in as a substitute.
It’s with only a little ill-grace that he stands and follows the princess down the spiral walkways of the village, glowering at anyone who glances his way with an expression too close to consolation or pity. He doesn’t want nor need them looking at him like that. He’d long outgrown those looks.
Princess Zelda glances into the communal kitchen as they pass it. It’s empty. For a moment he thinks she’s about to make a comment, but he tows her swiftly onwards. She’ll get better fare in the inn than Revali would be able to produce, for sure; he’s not exactly unskilled, but his repertoire is far more of a bachelor’s approach to sustenance than a princess would likely appreciate.
The inn is devoid of any other Hylians, too, though there’s a covered plate of food left on one of the tables, and stocky grey Muyo is quick to take charge of the princess and gesture towards it, murmuring something Revali can’t entirely catch.
He leaves her to it.
He’s too low down in the village to take flight (at least, not without making a nuisance of himself), and the thought of climbing back up to an appropriate flight platform, past all those watching eyes, is the last thing that appeals, so Revali walks on to the end of the village walkway before turning sharply right towards his own roost. Nobody else lives on this south-eastern spire, so Revali can at least be assured of some quiet and relative privacy.
Or he would, if there wasn’t somebody coming across the bridge that leads from Revali’s roost.
Revali draws up short. Two steps shy of solid ground, Link freezes too. Revali stares at him, unable to understand it. Why is he here?
Link regards him with as impassive an expression as ever, but his head tips a little to the side, almost like a question, and his hands – rather than both hanging expressionless at his flanks like they normally would, Link lifts one hand to rest against his hip. Even Revali can recognise the mirror of his own usual posture in it, though he’s far more harried than usual and unable to do much more than look at Link blankly. Really, what is he doing here?
Link’s attention flickers towards the village entrance, and Revali reluctantly follows his gaze – and winces at the sight of the patrolling guards. They’re in plain view.
He grabs for Link, who makes a faint sound of protest. “We are not doing this here," Revali hisses at him, and tows him further into the shadow of the main spire, until they’re safely out of sight of passersby.
Under the sparse cover of the pine trees, Revali pauses and finally gets a proper look at him. Link seems... much the same as normal. His face is as impassive as ever; if not for the mark on his ear, Revali might think none of it had ever happened.
As it is, the mark is still there, stark and red even days later – Revali had nipped it much harder than he'd meant to, even though he hadn't bitten hard enough to draw blood.
Link's face is clear of any trace of embarrassment about it. The mark is also still there, Revali realises with a jolt – a feeling that isn't entirely unpleasant. If Link had wanted it gone, surely Mipha could have healed it in seconds. Instead, he's been walking around Rito Village bold as anything with a bitemark on full display. It's shameless, disconcerting behaviour. The only relief is the thought that other people might not recognise it.
Could it be that Link...
Revali pulls himself back with a lurch. That way lies dangerous thoughts which he doesn't want to entertain in the slightest.
"Somehow," Revali says, "this is your fault."
Link blinks at him. It's more of a reaction than Revali expected; he doesn't know what to do about it. He turns away and starts to pace, trying to get his thoughts into order and warming to the theory the more he dwells on it.
"Yes, you," he retorts, as though Link had voiced a question aloud. "What else could it be? You are the only connecting factor here."
Vah Ruta, after all, had activated its defences when its Champion had retreated on board, seeking solace and solitude... and according to the rumours, this all came after a – mishap involving a certain knight.
Yes, clearly it comes back to Link. Revali tells him so. At length.
And besides, if Link had just acknowledged Revali like he should have, all those months ago, things would never have come to – this. He wouldn't have been driven to do these things in the pursuit of Link finally deigning to give him the attention that was his due. He wouldn't have —
He clicks his beak in agitation and whirls back towards Link, resenting how the knight does nothing but look at him with insolently calm eyes, that awful air of tolerance around him again. Revali wants to – he doesn't know what he wants to do. No, he knows exactly what. But the last time he gave into such an impulse, he committed a reckless error of judgement, and the worst part is that he wants to do it all over again.
"You," he says, stalking closer, but that's all he manages. His words are roiling somewhere in his chest; he cannot get them out. He glares at Link. It really is his fault. It has to be.
Then, out of the blue, Link smiles.
Barely even a smile. Not by Hylian standards, anyway. Revali has been observing, after all, trying to figure out how they work and why Link is such an atypical specimen of his species. It's not much of a smile, just a strange twitch of his mouth, and Revali doesn't – he doesn't know what to make of it at all —
Link just smiles his not-smile and then Revali is left floundering to steady himself, the start of an outraged squawk in his throat as Link tangles his tiny fingers into Revali's scarf and tugs on it. It's only because he's so utterly taken by surprise that he stumbles at all. He braces against the rockface, wings either side of Link, and —
What?
Link's breath stirs the small, fine feathers at the corner of Revali's beak. Warm, and much too close for comfort. But Link doesn't seem uncomfortable at all. Nor angry. Not the way he did back at the start of all this. Revali's heartbeat thunders; his blood sings an unnatural storm, loud in his auricles, as he strains to make out Link's expression – an impossibility, at such short range. Never has Revali longed so much for distance.
Faintly, a pressure lands there. Lingers, just on the corner of his beak.
"...What," Revali manages to croak out. It's a minor miracle that he manages that much. Link's proximity to him is overwhelming.
Link withdraws as best he can with his back pressed against the rockface. The trace of a smile is gone; his face is as unreadable as ever. But then, taking Revali by surprise, his mouth parts just a fraction:
"Payback."
With his free hand, he points to the mark on his ear.
Revali can't help it. He makes a strangled noise and tries to wheel away – tries, because Link's fingers are still wound tight in his scarf like it's a tether.
"Link–!"
He continues as though Revali hadn't spoken. "...A kiss," he elaborates, in case Revali hadn't heard of the Hylian custom before. His eyes crinkle at the corners, as brilliant and boundless as the sky, and—
Oh. He got it wrong. Link wasn't angry at all, was he? This whole time...
This time, when Link draws him in again, Revali responds to the touches as best he can, and gradually grows bold enough to reciprocate. He plans to take this secret to the grave with him but – he's never been so glad to be wrong about something.
High overhead, the defence protocol in Vah Medoh returns to standby.
It can’t speak, of course. It’s debatable whether the Divine Beasts have anything that could be counted as approaching sentience. Princess Zelda will decide, in time, that it was a response stemming from their relationship with their Champions, and nothing more complicated than that. Just a fluke that Mipha was inside Vah Ruta, and Revali outside Vah Medoh, when it happened.
…But if Medoh — which, do recall, has endured far more complaints about a certain knight than any living or non-living being would care to hear — if Vah Medoh did have something to say about this situation, it would probably be something like: Finally.