Chapter Text
Legend had decided back on his first quest that he hated concussions. Over ten years later and on his... variably numbered quest (it could be the seventh if he combined the Oracles into a single one, it could be the sixth if he ignored Koholint too, or it could be the ninth if he individualized and counted every single vaguely adventure-like thing that happened), he still hated concussions.
Nonetheless, he powered through. It was a mild one anyways, he would be fine by morning probably, and if he wasn't then he'd buy an extra potion to drink.
They just arrived at a town in Legend's own era and kingdom, it was late and they had already decided to get supplies the next day after a good night's sleep in the inn. Legend didn't go to sleep though, despite the rather mild--he wasn't even nauseous really--concussion, he slipped out of the inn and found himself sitting out on a bench outside, watching the innkeepers wife's--Leanne's, he had visited the town before-- garden of flowers sway in the wind.
"Hey," someone sneered, "what's a brat like you doing out this late?"
He was literally an adult, but before he raised his head he saw armored boots.
A knight.
"Just getting some fresh air," he said, keeping his head down. "I don’t mean to bother."
Please don’t--
The boot swung up and he had plenty of time to dodge it, except he was trying not to be recognized so he took it. The steel boot hit his forehead and he let himself gasp, dropping his head lower.
"Look at me when I speak to you, brat!" They spat.
Legend grit his teeth, not responding in favor of keeping his head down. Maybe he should've dodged and just ran, that kick made his concussion much, much worse if only briefly. He couldn't think and suddenly, that nausea that hadn't been so bad, was very bad.
Instincts kicked in when the guard went in for another kick. Legend avoided it and quickly stood.
"You'll learn some resp--" the guard visibly recognized him when Legend met his eyes, forcing back the dizziness.
"You could've just walked away," Legend said coldly. "You just had to pick a fight with someone who you thought was a kid."
"You! Criminal!"
The outraged cry drew the attention of a nearby patrol of guards. Legend cursed, especially the fact that he'd left most of his items inside the inn. Four guards converged toward him, yelling and waking up the townsfolk while Legend bolted.
He didn't want nor should kill them, they needed a reality check sure, but death wasn't the answer here and he only had his medallions as an offense. No regular person would survive them, so instead Legend just ran.
To everyone's surprise, when he swerved into an alleyway unhindered, a patrol of guards were on the other side and startled when the patrol chasing him roared behind him. They quickly blocked off his escape, and with his head spinning, stomach lurching, and eyes refusing to focus--
A shield was slammed into his face and he was out cold.
Legend woke up in a painful daze, his whole body was sore, arms especially so, wrists in genuine pain and not just sore. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, yet simultaneously it felt empty with how his brain seemed to rattle in his skull. His magic was practically gone--
His magic was gone. He didn't feel the familiar weight of his medallions and pendants. He wasn't even wearing all his clothes! His red mail was gone, and his boots, leaving him just in his dark green under-tunic. His cap was gone as well and his hair was loose.
After assessing his own condition, Legend drew in enough focus despite the physical pain and magical exhaustion, and he tried to determine his situation.
He was in a cell, water audibly dripping down from the ceiling and down the walls. The ground was damp if anything. Stone lined the walls and floor, mortar on the walls but dirt in the floor. He was chained to the wall opposite of the (probably) iron cell door, the cuffs around his wrists had runes etched into it... the source of his magical exhaustion no doubt.
Metal clinked as he tugged the cuffs around his wrists, he didn't have a single inch of give, being cuffed directly to the wall itself. His magic was cut off, and his head spinning and throbbing and requiring far too much concentration to focus, Legend took far too long to come to a conclusion about his situation.
He had been captured, by knights no less, and he was completely trapped. He had no items, he'd never had the strength to even escape, and his magic had been drained before he could even try the... two things he'd been able to do in extremely extenuating circumstances to escape.
The cell door slammed open, Legend glared daggers at the knight who entered.
"Link, seems we finally caught you," they said, scowling and approaching him.
"I wa'--I was par-pardoned years ago," Legend snapped, his words attempting to slur, leading him to repeat himself clearly. "You have-- You have... no grounds for this arrest."
The knight drew closer. "Just because you tricked the queen doesn't mean you’re innocent. You'll pay for kidnapping her, and for the murder of dozens of good soldiers, especially Sergeant Alphon."
He snapped. He swung his leg up and nailed them in the face. Despite the height they had on him, his legs were just long enough and he was flexible enough to kick them.
"Get his name out of your mouth you bastard!" Legend fought against his chains, ignoring the pain and fuzziness. How dare this knight try and use the man who raised him against him?! How dare he?!
"Oh, you'll pay for that."
The knight punched his face, the back of his skull slammed against the iron panel behind him, a loud clang echoing through the room simultaneously followed by a hissed curse. His skull reverberated, pain exploding and seizing. A stabbing pain tore through his mind.
A second punch to his lower ribs had his legs giving out and his stomach to empty itself on the ground.
"Not so high and mighty now," the knight sneered. "You'll die in this cell, hero. Nice and slow, another day, another hour, another pain for all the men you killed."
Legend inhaled shakily, lips wet as he raised his head to glare.
"Do your worst," he growled. "I've survived worse."
He survived death itself, and returned with new items, new artifacts, new memories. He survived Ganon four times over, a lightning strike to the head, the near-death of his ancestor borderline erasing him from history.
Even if Legend did die here, it was the first... second time he could trust that someone else would finish the job. The other heroes would finish this quest and he didn't need to worry. He could die without regrets.
Turns out, dying slowly with a glimmer of hope to escape is far worse than being struck by lightning and drowning in a storm on the ocean.
The other heroes should've been able to find him, he'd gone with Twilight, or Wolfie, to track down the Traveler and Champion dozens of times, never through towns though. Yet they hadn't and Legend had determined not to rely on anyone, even the other heroes.
Though... it was hard not to cling to the hope of hearing blades clashing, or even just the creak of the door as one of them sneaks in. Not as his body refused to do the most simple of things, not while he could barely lift his head, not while he felt the cuffs that drained his magic very slowly chip away at his soul, eliminating any replenishment of his magic before it even formed. It was hard not to cling to any glimmer of hope of someone else saving him for once when his skin was torn, cut open, and his blood soaked the floors more than the water that dripped from above did. He told himself that he had to save himself, just like every other time he'd been pushed to the brink. He had a job to do and even if the other heroes could do it themselves, it was still his job to at least help. Yet as he hung from bleeding wrists, legs not strong enough to support him, he knew that even if he wasn't chained up, even if the cell door was wide open, he wasn't going to be able to walk out.
When the knights returned, jeering and joking with one another with the familiarity of brothers, Link drew in another breath.
He wasn't escaping. He survived death once, thanks to an ocean deity, but he was certain that he wasn't going to escape its hold a second time. Not as the knights pulled out something new--every day, it had been something new, or maybe every hour, he wasn't sure how long it had been--and discussed who got to use it first.
It was a flail, a handle of leather likely around wood but maybe steel, and multiple long ropes of frayed leather.
Link--Legend(they were still there, he wasn't alone again, the quest was still ongoing even if he died here) didn't have the energy to cry out as the cat o' nine tails was whipped across his face, tearing his lip, the bridge of his nose, his brow and cheek, his eyes sealed shut from the pain. He did flinch, he did whimper and gasp, but nothing more.
He didn't have the strength for more. Frayed leather struck across his chest, catching his collarbone and cutting a scabbed wound open. His throat was raw, had been for a while now with stomach acid burning the irritation of his screams. Even as he tried to scream, nothing more than a wheeze fell from bloodied lips.
He hoped they wouldn't be too upset with him leaving them to finish the fight. He almost wanted to laugh, it was a bit ironic... Of course he, the helpless bunny, would be killed in captivity. He, the veteran, would die on an adventure. He, the collector, would be left item-less at the end, after all you can't take anything to the afterlife.
It was ironic, because the adventuring veteran who collected items from across four countries, three worlds, and had killed Ganon four times... was still just a helpless bunny who couldn't defend himself when it mattered.
Soon enough, as his vision faded out, Legend fell.
Though with his magical stores empty and his soul having just been drained... he didn't even notice that his fall had been in the physical sense. Cuffs didn't matter when the goddess herself took matters into her own hands to displace her hero through time.