Chapter Text
Link was running.
Everything just happened so fast. His ninth birthday was less than a week ago. Now his uncle is dead, Zelda sent him on a mission to find the Master Sword, and all of the guards want to kill him because he "kidnapped the princess".
But while fleeing from the castle with Princess Zelda, a knight slashed his calf with their sword. It burned, the wound cutting deep. His boot did nothing to protect him.
He kept running, though. He couldn't stop.
Princess Zelda couldn't heal him. Luckily, they were able to find some bandages, but that was the best they could do.
After being told to go find some elder, he ended up in Kakariko. It was raining. He needed food, shelter, and probably a doctor.
Everyone was nice to him. They were all willing to help the poor boy who walked into their town soaked and in pain. That was, until someone screamed.
She shrieked about a dangerous criminal before calling for the guards. Suddenly, everyone went from kind and warm to cold, cruel, and terrifying.
So he ran. He took what little food they had given him and ran for his life.
If the knights are more than willing to potentially maim a child, who knows what they'll do if they get him.
His feet splashed into puddles with every step. The bandage on his leg was soaked through with water and blood. Adding mud to the mix probably wasn't a good thing.
He wanted to cry. He probably was crying.
His leg hurt and he's cold and armed men were chasing him through the trees and he couldn't go home because everyone was in danger and his uncle was dead and–
Link's foot catches on something, sending him splashing into the mud.
It's gross, soaking his entire front. He sobs even harder.
Maybe if he lays there still enough, the knights won't see him and they'll go away. He looks back to see what he tripped on.
A dragon. A little, bright red dragon stares back at him.
Dragons are rare. Aside from cockatrice, which are everywhere, dragons are a rare sight. Link's uncle told him to count himself lucky if he ever saw one alive because people like hunting them.
People like hunting them. This dragon is just a baby.
He glances into the woods where he can see lights from lanterns carried by the knights as they search for him. What'll they do if they find this dragon? Will they kill her just like they'll kill him?
He sits up slowly. Carefully, he scoops the dragon into his arms. She's no bigger than a housecat yet she's incredibly warm.
Inhaling sharply when he stands, he limps as fast as he can deeper into the woods.
It takes a while but he eventually finds a rock that creates an overhang he can use to get out of the rain. Crawling under it, he sets the dragon down in his lap.
She seems just as scared as he is but she doesn't run away. If anything, she curls up tighter, making herself warmer for the both of them.
He runs a hand across her back. Her scales are smooth and soft, like a snake.
He can't hear the knights chasing them anymore.
He relaxes, tears threatening to fall again as the pain in his leg increases. He just wants to go home.
The dragon in his lap makes a little cooing sound, looking up at him as if she's worried. He scratches behind her ear with one hand as he goes to dig through his bag with the other.
He probably shouldn't. He needs everything he can get for himself. Besides, he's been on his own for less than two days and he's already seriously injured. He can't take care of a dragon, let alone a baby one.
Something tells him he can't just leave this dragon behind, though.
With a resolute sigh, he looks back to the dragon in his lap. Forcing a smile, he pulls a bun out of his bag.
"Are you hungry?"