Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes at the end of a busy night in Telma’s bar, when the sound of raucous singing and clinking glasses fade into quiet murmurs, you find your mind wandering back to Ordon village. You spent nearly every summer there as a child. You’d stay with your aunt and uncle until the air turned cold and castletown pulled you back to its cobblestone streets.

Even now, surrounded by the stink of the bar, you could clearly smell the earthy musk of animals and sun-kissed vegetation as it wafted through the air in the hot hours of the day. You could smell the rain that came in the afternoon and soaked the soil, overflowing the creek and turning its bank to mud.

You could feel the rough grass between your fingers while you braided it, heels digging into the sandy bank of Ordon spring. On the days when it became too hot to make that walk into the woods, you settled for the small stream that winded through the village. Its water was warmer, but it had a gentle current that bubbled around your toes, fighting your dangling feet as you swung them back and forth from the foot bridge.

Many evenings were spent in the gentle embrace of the grass by the water wheel. You’d listen to the frogs jumping in the shallow water nearby, or to the cicadas who sang their summer song somewhere deep in Faron woods. Every so often, you’d catch the distant bleat of an Ordon goat from Fado’s ranch on the hill, knowing that somewhere up there he was working hard to upkeep the pride of the Ordon.

That was all just a distant memory now. The strong smell of alcohol brought you back to reality as your hands scrubbed a damp rag into a muddy stain on the counter. It had been almost six years since you’d been there last, and everything in your body yearned to see the cattails sway in the wind, to smell the pasture, to-

-but you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave Telma- not now. You had an obligation to her as your caretaker of the past several years, and she had an obligation to this town as the owner of their best and only bar. Her life was here, so your life was here.

It wasn’t all that bad though- there was a reason people loved this town, and Telma, so much. Being the center of the kingdom meant there were all kinds of people- travellers, musicians, nobles, and craftsmen alike. The tables of the bar often sat more people from the furthest borders of Hyrule than residents of Castle Town. It was anyone’s guess who would walk through the doors and tell their stories over a drink.

On a slow and warm afternoon, you stood behind the bar petting Telma’s cat, Louise, instead of wiping glasses like you were asked. Her silky white fur smoothed easily under your fingers. You were so engrossed in her relaxed purring that you didn’t notice Telma approach until she stood right next to you.

You looked up slowly, afraid of the stern talk you were about to receive- and it looked like she was more than ready to give you one- but her scolding was replaced with a letter on the counter.

“Postman just brought this, says it’s for you.” She relays.

You rarely get anything in the mail, so this must be important. You take the letter quickly, examining its worn parchment and wax seal in your hands before ripping it open. Telma watches curiously over your shoulder as you read. You immediately recognize the handwriting as your aunt, Uli.

You look back at Telma when you finish.

“Well? Don’t leave an old woman waiting- what’s it say?” She puts her hands on her hips, looking at you expectantly.

You look back down at the paper in your hands, “My aunt, down in Ordon, she’s expecting another baby and hopes I can come back for a couple weeks to help her- but I can’t-” You stop yourself, already knowing you couldn’t- but when you get no protest, you look up at Telma. She’s already smiling.

“No- are you serious, Telma?” Your voice betrays your excitement.

“I’ve heard you talk about Ordon enough times to know that if I kept you from it, you’d never forgive me.” She laughs, “Besides, it's not too hard to find workers- I’m sure I can find someone to fill in for you for a couple weeks.”

The smile that spreads across your face feels warm. Not as warm as Telma when you hug her in thanks.

It doesn’t take Telma long to find you a ride with an old farmer heading South. Before you know it, you're saying your goodbyes from the back of a wagon as it splits the sea of people in the market.

When you knock on Uli’s door, it’s almost too dark to see in the evening twilight. You can hear the muffled noise of excited conversation and cheer behind the door before it’s even opened. Rusl, your uncle, stands in the door frame peering down at you in the dark, his old eyes sparkling when he recognizes you.

He says your name warmly, quickly bringing you in for a crushing hug. The dinner conversation quiets as everyone inside tries to see the new guest.

“Aha! My favorite niece finally pays me a visit! How have you been, sweet girl?”

Before you can respond, Uli is pushing past him to embrace you. She throws her arms around you and hugs you as best she can, squealing while she lays sweet kisses all over your face.

“My baby! You got my letter- I’m so happy you could come to see us!” She ushers you in, “Everyone, look who’s here!”

Within seconds, almost everyone in the house was standing to surround you, hugging you and fussing over you. You smile and laugh while they comment about your height and ask about life in Castle Town.

“Where’s Pergie? And Mayor Bo and Ilia?” You finally manage to ask, an unknown hand pushing you towards the dining table.

“Pergie offered to watch the children at the wheel house tonight.” Replies Sera, her bone needle moving so deftly through a .

“Mayor Bo and Ilia went to Hyrule castle just this morning actually- they have business with the princess.” Jaggle finishes, taking another bite of bread.

“Oh.” You nod in understanding, putting your bag down- but Rusl calls your name again, putting his hand on your shoulder to guide you into the small kitchen.

“There’s someone I'd like you to meet.” He smiles.

You give Rusl a puzzled look, about to ask something when the person sitting in front of you turns, revealing themselves to be a young man. He is tall enough- tall and slender with tousled light brown hair laying softly over his forehead. His face is thin and his eyes are a dazzling blue even in the dim lantern light.

“Link, this is my niece- she’s from castle town.” Rusl pats your back and Link smiles, nodding in understanding.

“This is Link. He came to Ordon almost two years ago now, Been working as a ranch hand since day one. He’s a good friend of ours, and a great friend to the kids.” Rusl praises. You smile up at Rusl, then turn back to Link. He was already looking at you. The way his gaze hit you made a shock of embarrassment run through you and turn your hands cold. Without a second thought, your eyes find the floor and focus on it until the conversation’s over.

“Well, I'll leave you and Link to chat- I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hang out with us old-timers anyways, eh?” He nudges your arm playfully before turning to Link, “Link, get her something to eat would you, my boy?” Link nods, and Rusl rejoins the others.

You still can’t look at him afterwards, even when he hands you a bowl of stew- all you can muster is a quiet “Thank you.” You begin eating quietly, slow spoonfuls from bowl to mouth hiding your ravenous appetite from your day trip. It looks foolish next to Link who is shoveling chunks of potatoes and squash into his mouth like it’s the last time he’ll eat. While he eats, you take the opportunity to look at his features again. Your eyes quickly find his pointed ears, the telltale sign of a Hylian. He looks up from his bowl and catches your gaze, curiosity in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for staring,” You begin, “You’re a Hylian.” He stops eating, tilting his head almost imperceptibly- the slightest intimation of his confusion. “I’m just curious why you chose to stay in Ordon- there are no other Hylians here.” You deflate the longer you speak, your words not coming out the way you wanted them to.

He shakes his head and shrugs, completely oblivious, then speaks almost so quietly you couldn’t hear it over the loud conversation behind you, “I don’t like big towns.” He says simply, “And they took me in with open arms.”

“Oh,” you blink, “Then we have something in common.” A beat passes, “Don’t get me wrong, I love Castle Town but it’s nothing like Ordon.” Your spoon picks at the chunks in your stew.

He hums, “Then why don’t you stay here?”.

Your spoon slows in the bowl and you look up. “Well I- I don’t know I can’t just-”

Your name cuts through your daydream. “Come join us for a moment, Rusl wants to hear about Telma and the bar!” You don’t bother to look at who called, just excuse yourself from the table and join the circle by the fire.

The curious conversation keeps you from your meal unfortunately, but it also keeps you from awkward conversation with a stranger. Like most conversations with older adults though, it quickly becomes tedious. You try to hide a yawn so as to not be impolite, but of course Uli and her keen eye notices.

“I’m sure you’re tired,” she takes your hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “As much as I’d love to have you sleep here with us, I’m sorry to say that Colin and the crib have taken up any free space in my home- but Link has offered to share his home with you, if you’d like it.”

You nod, hiding the wave of nervousness that washes over you by swallowing.

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “Well, it’s up to you. Goodnight sweetheart, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You smile, “Goodnight.”

With a final kiss to your hand, she lets go. You step away to retrieve your bag then approach Link nervously.

“So I'll be staying with you?” He nods, standing from the chair and making his way to the door. You follow close behind, waving goodnight to everyone with a smile until the door closes with a quiet thud.

It was just you, Link, and the crickets now.

He leads you through the dark, back up the hill you had walked down earlier, and to the big oak tree in the clearing. You had glanced at the structure earlier, but any curiosity was quickly overtaken by your exhaustion and desire to eat. The only light now comes from the moon and the small circular window in the door which you now realize is several feet off the ground. Link gently takes your hand and leads it through the dark to the short ladder you could barely see before taking your bag for you.

Upon reaching the top, you open the door and step inside. The interior of this tree house was much more vast than the exterior let on, but it was… cozy. Candles on wooden dishes were placed in optimal spots around the main room and flickered when the still air was disturbed. Unsurprisingly, the strongest scent was of wood, but there was also the smell of paper, leather, and something sweet you couldn’t identify.

Turning around, you see two more small ladders leading higher into the house. The first landing has a bookshelf, filled edge to edge, and a lantern swinging from the floor of the second landing. You could only assume the top was the bed.

Behind you, by the small kitchen, Link sets your bag down and watches you until you turn.. He just hoped you were comfortable.

“This is a lovely home.” You complement.

He smiles slightly, “Thank you.” His hand gestures up to the loft briefly, “Bed’s all yours.”

You want to tell him you aren’t going to take his bed, but it seems futile, so you thank him instead and head up the two ladders. Beneath you Link begins laying out a pile of linen and cotton blankets on the floor. It makes your stomach curl in guilt as you sit down on his bed- its river reed and straw filling were no doubt much more comfortable than the hard floor. Nonetheless, you lie back, tucking yourself in and staring out the small window to your left at the waning moon.

The sheets smell nice at least…

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you awoke the next morning tangled in the sheets of Link’s bed. The light streaming in through the small window next to you was blinding. How late was it?

Climbing down reveals that Link is gone- a neatly folded pile of blankets is in place of his bed. He must get up early if he’s a ranch-hand, you think.

It's not long before you're out the door, a light linen dress embroidered with small summer birds lays just at your ankles. Naturally, when you wander out of the clearing and down the main path, the first place you end up is Uli's. She greets you fondly, a hand on her back as she slowly stands from where she sits on the porch.

“Good Morning! I hope you slept well- Rusl left you some seed bread in the house.”

“He’s not here?”

“No, he left for the woods to train this morning.”

You nod, stepping inside to grab your breakfast. Before you can leave, Uli calls for you.

“Could you please take this basket to Fado? He’s been asking for one and I finally finished this one for him.” You nod, taking the basket from her hands, silently appreciating the fine craftsmanship.

“No problem.”

She waves you goodbye, and you turn towards the hill and path that winds up its side. As you walk, you look around and take in the scenery. The neighboring hills were speckled with orange as the autumn pumpkins grew in. The sound of bleating goats slowly becomes louder the further you trudge up the hill in the summer sun. When you finally reach the gates of the ranch, you’re surprised to find Fado wasn’t in his usual spot in the middle of the pasture. So, you wander to the barn in hopes of finding him.

The bottom of your dress drags along the coarse grass growing in the pasture as you walk. A few grazing goats meander in your direction, hope in their eyes that they will take the bread from your hands. They follow behind you quietly,hooves pushing up dirt with every step. You were so busy laughing at the goats you didn’t realize you were about to run into Link until you had already bumped into his chest.

He stumbled back, eyebrows raised in surprise but he caught himself quickly and stepped back. He was holding up a sack of feed on each shoulder, which you quickly notice are both bare. In fact, the coarsely sewn sleeveless shirt he wore was so tattered you could practically see his chest.

“Sorry.” You say on instinct, eyes pulling up to meet his. “I brought this for Fado,” You hold the basket up, “but I don’t see him?”

“He’s further out in the pasture.” Link points off at the clearing up the hill with one hand as best he can.

“Oh,” Your shoulders slump. There’s no way you’re walking any further in this heat, so you quickly set the basket down by the barn door, “I’ll just leave this here then.”

He watches you quietly, almost expectantly- until you realize.

“Oh-!” You quickly step aside so he can exit the barn. His arms were shaking slightly by the time he dropped the sacks into the pile on the outer wall. Your apology dies on your tongue when he turns around.

“Have you eaten?” You ask instead.

His eyes flit to you at the question. He shakes his head, a drop of sweat falling off the delicate ridge of his nose. You hand him what’s left of your bread. When he extends his hand to take it from you, you can’t help but inspect it. His hands are tan and his fingers slender. Faint wisps of sunbleached hair lay on the backs of his fingers between each knuckle. A thin line of dirt is caked under his blunt nails, and the underside of his hand is calloused and rough. He must have noticed the lingering touch and your examination because he was leaving his hand out for you… until Fado’s voice suddenly echoed across the pasture.

You both turn and look, hands finally coming apart.

“Link! We need all those sacks moved by tonight!”

You turn back to Link, “I’ll let you get back to work. Tell Fado about the basket for me would you?” Without waiting for a response, you're off running through the grass again, hands holding up your dress as grass tickles your ankles.

Fado chuckles when he finally reaches Link, watching him watch you. “Pining for Rusl’s niece, eh Link? Didn’t think you liked the city folk.” Link’s eyes quickly drop to the ground and he purses his lips, not dignifying him with a response.

. . .

That evening, you see Link back in Uli’s house for dinner- but he looks drained. Has he really been working since sunrise? You wonder. Everyone eats and chats casually as they did the night before. You only notice Link leaving early when you hear Rusl wish him goodnight at the door. You can only imagine his exhaustion.

You decide to leave soon after Link, and after climbing the ladder and opening the door, you find the house dim and quiet. The temperature had dropped significantly since the sun went down, so Link had started a fire in the hearth and now sat in front of it.

Without a word, you walk to your bag on the floor by the fire and rummage through it, pulling out a small satchel. Link looks entranced by the dancing flames when you peer down at him. His once bright eyes are darkened, and the fire’s light reflects dreamily off the glassy curvature of his eyes.

With careful hands, you remove a kettle that hangs over the flames and pour what little hot water is inside into a shoddily carved wooden cup and open the satchel. Inside are several dried chamomile flowers you had bought from the apothecary in town. They release a mild sweetness when they hit the hot water, their petals blossoming for a second time. After a gentle swirl, you placed the cup on the floor in front of Link- who had, until this point, not moved once.

“It’s chamomile…” you explain gently, “you look exhausted, so I thought maybe this would help.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but you’re almost certain he smiled. You lean down and gently kiss his temple, hoping the simple gesture might quell whatever storm is whirling inside him.

“Please take the bed tonight, Link. I didn’t realize how long you worked… and now that I do, there’s no way I'm letting you sleep on the floor.”

He glances up, hands half way to the cup. His expression is unreadable as always.

“Thank you.”

. . .

The floor honestly wasn’t so bad, especially next to the fire now that it had burned down to crackling embers. Link’s sigh of relief up in the loft as he relaxed into the sheets made any discomfort worth it.

Truthfully, you want to know more about him, of course you do. He doesn’t speak his mind like everyone else in Castle Town who so easily spill their opinions and stories to any ear, willing or not. His choice to listen instead of speak was so refreshing. Maybe with a little prying you can find out where he came from and why he’s here all alone… but until you work up the courage to ask you’ll just have to keep up the awkward small talk.

✿✧｡⁠*⑅✪

Chapter Text

The next morning, Link is still fast asleep in his bed when you come up to retrieve a brush you left behind last night. You can’t help but take every opportunity to admire him, and right now on this quiet morning is no different. He lies completely still in his sleep- hands neatly folded over his abdomen above the sheets with breathing so quiet and so gentle that you’re hardly sure he’s breathing at all. Had he not murmured something in his slewaterep, you might’ve thought him dead. He deserves a good rest, you think, crawling back down the ladder as quietly as the old thing will allow.

It’s late in the morning when he finally steps down into the kitchen. You had returned inside for a change of clothes just as Link poured himself a cup of . You clear your throat to make your presence known, then walk to your bag.

“Somebody was asking for you this morning, but I thought I’d let you get some extra rest- seemed you really needed it.” You smile, fishing out some linen shorts from your bag.

He nods, bleary-eyed and yawning, a hand scratching his stomach under his thin shirt.

“I’m going to Ordon Spring actually; you’re more than welcome to join me.” You offer, hands quickly slipping on the shorts underneath your dress.

He nods again before a particularly long yawn pulls his arms high above his head for a stretch- but you turn away before you can see what his lifted shirt reveals. You slip out to give him some privacy and begin the walk down the shaded path to the spring. It’s another cloudless day today, perhaps a little warmer than yesterday but pleasant nonetheless- the birds that sing in a chorus above you know it too. In the clearing, their melody is subdued by the bubbling water, but still present and harmonious with the water that tickles your feet.

You lie back on the bank, sun-warmed sand and soft earth welcoming you. Spindly grass tickles past your shoulders, bowing and kissing the water with each whistle of wind. On it comes the melody of the Horse Grass, sparse enough that each lull echoes the quiet you can only find here.

Every part of the spring is alive, the ripple of crystal water like a heartbeat to which everything breathes. Tree roots tangle together in immovable knots, their thick tendrils had rooted themselves in the soil long before the first whisper of you. The tranquility of the moment seeps through your skin like the sunshine until it’s cut short by gentle footsteps.

“I love this spring.” You muse quietly as Link sits beside you. He neatly places his sandals aside and sets his bare feet in the water.

You look over his relaxed features and sun-kissed skin again. You can’t help it. The dappled light sprinkled around his body makes him radiate sunlight. He could be a spirit of the light imbued with the sanctity of the goddess, but something about his gentle eyes studying the waterfall tells you he’s real.

For once, the silence between you is relaxed. Gentle wind and cold water, just as you remembered. Your eyes wander from the dragonflies resting on the reeds to his fingers pulling at small roots and pebbles in the wet sand. In the afternoon sun, you see a faint mark on his hand, somewhat darker than his natural hue. Looking closer, its unnatural shape becomes more apparent.

“What’s that? On your hand?” You ask, pointing to the mark.

He looks down at the back of his left hand, examining it like he’s not seen it a hundred times.

“I’m not sure. I always assumed it was a birthmark.” He shrugs.

“But it looks like the symbol of the gods,” he looks confused, “you know? The one in the middle of the royal crest?”

“Does it? Must be a coincidence.” He shakes his head dismissively.

“That’s a crazy coincidence. You should really ask Mayor Bo.” You insist, but he doesn’t seem convinced.

You scoot closer, now incredibly invested. His expression becomes one of confusion as he watches you get worked up.

“What if… what if you’re the hero of legend?” Link shakes his head, complete and utter disbelief on his face. “No, I’m serious.” You add quickly, “They talk about it all the time at the bar- a hero sent by the Goddess to defeat a great evil.”

“Hero? Great Evil?” He stutters, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve never been told the stories?” You lean in closer.

He seems flustered.

“No-?”

You look at the distance between you, finally noticing that you’re practically on top of him. He relaxes when you finally sit back down, dusting sand off your knees.

“Look, all I’m saying is you should look into it.” You say now that your excitement has calmed considerably.

He scratches the back of his neck absentmindedly, looking back at the waterfall. “Yeah…”

. . .

You didn’t talk about it for the rest of the day- didn’t think it mattered. Until you woke up in the middle of the night to quiet whimpering up in the loft. At first you’re flustered, sitting up from your blankets on the floor. You almost laugh to yourself… and then it starts to sound like muffled crying. Your heart starts pounding, worrying there’s something wrong- maybe he’s sick?

You creep up the ladders, listening closely until you get to the top. There lies Link, tangled in the sheets and whimpering in pain. You approach the side of his bed in a panic, looking him over. He’s delirious, hands clutching at his shirt, then the sheets, then his shirt again. His skin is completely flushed and glistening in the moonlight. Without hesitation, you put the back of your hand to his forehead.

Not even a second of your hand on his skin and he’s grabbing your wrist with crushing force. He sits up in a panic, pupils so blown they’re swallowing the blue of his eyes.

“No!” he shouts, hand almost bruising your wrist with how hard he's digging in his blunt nails.

You reel back in fear on instinct, yanking your hand away the moment he loosens his grip. Link heaves as he takes in his surroundings, slowly remembering where he is. His eyes follow his hands as they trace his chest, and then land back on you, huddled and trembling at the loft’s edge.

“I’m sorry I- I dreamt I was a beast and I-” He chokes out, watching you hold the hand he had grabbed. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, and he lets out a breath, head dropping into his hands.

“I wasn’t myself.” He murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

Your fear quickly fades at seeing him so defeated. With light steps, you come back to his side and lay a hand on his back.

“You have a terrible fever. I’m going to get you some water.” He nods weakly, collapsing back onto the sweat-soaked bedsheets.

When you come back, he drinks the water you give him desperately, warm hands covering yours where they hold the bowl at his lips. You’re not sure what to make of it yet. You don’t know him well, basically don’t know him at all- so how can you tell what's normal and what’s not?

You settle back down in your bed after making sure he’s settled back in, but you tell him to wake you if he needs anything at all.

Of course, when you wake up, he’s gone from his bed.

You had climbed up the ladders only to find his sheets and pillow tossed on the floor in a messy pile. Without missing a beat, you get dressed and head for the ranch. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s there working despite his ailment.

The humid morning air whisks past you as you walk, dirt crunching beneath your feet with every long stride. You’re not quite sure why you’ve taken on such a brisk pace so soon after waking up. Maybe it’s concern that pushes your feet in a hurry down the path, kicking up small stones and sending squirrels skittering up the trees… but part of it feels like anger that he’s pushing himself. The thought of him collapsing in the barn or out in the field only gets your feet moving faster.

It’s early in the morning, just moments after sunrise. As you enter town, your footsteps join a chorus of several dozen others pattering through the dirt and crossing the foot bridge. It’s the time of morning when all the farmers have left their warm beds in favor of the fields. They all wave as you jog by, calling out quiet words of familiar greeting. Tools swing and bob with every step- baskets hanging on elbows and gardening tools balancing by their wooden shafts on broad shoulders.

You wave back with a smile, wishing a good morning to no one specific, you’re completely focused on the path leading to the ranch… and then a voice cuts through the murmur; sharp and grating. Sera, one of the older women in the village, calls to you,- beloved cat sauntering at her feet. Her arms are full of fabric, rope, and assorted colorful decorations. She waves to you with a grin. Your feet skid to a stop several paces before the footbridge as she ambles over.

“Perfect timing!” she exults, “Come help me put up these decorations at the store.”

Your eyes flit to the ranch gate further up the hill for a moment. You want to tell her you’re busy but don’t want to explain with what… though it doesn’t sound like she’s giving you a choice.

Before you can say anything, she’s pulling you along to the store while her cat weaves between your legs, almost tripping you.

“Aren’t you excited dear?”

You focus back on Sera. “For what?”

She gives you a disbelieving look, her arms setting down the decorations against the shop wall. Your eyes fall on the swinging cat door for a moment as the cat darts inside.

“The summer festival? What else?”

“Oh-!” You say quickly, trying to hide your obvious distraction, “Yes, of course I am.”

Despite her earlier surprise, she quickly returns to her lax demeanor and starts unlocking the front door. You detangle garlands mindlessly while she talks about the festival, fingers weaving through knots and pulling the rope straight. Sera is a wonderful woman, but once she starts talking about her daughter and shop, there’s really no stopping her… not like you’re paying much attention anyway.

But now that she mentions the festival, memories of summers long ago begin dancing around in your mind. It’s truly one of the best parts of the year in Ordon- a time of celebration and cheer- a time to appreciate the farmers’ work with a feast and dance- a time to enjoy the company of your friends and neighbors- and, well, a time to drink. It must be happening soon if Sera’s already decorating.

The excitement bubbling in you almost makes you forget about Link… almost. You hurry to hang the paper garlands on bent nails hammered in the wall so you can leave, but she drops a stack of books in your hands before you can say anything.

The sun had lazed far across the sky by the time you finally finished. What you didn’t realize all those hours ago was that decorating would become organizing, then taking inventory, then cleaning… and that by the time you’d manage to slip out through the crowd of customers, it would already be afternoon.

You stumble back out onto the main path, exhausted and aching, no longer sure if the hike up the hill is worth it anymore.

Then light and energized footsteps tumble down the path behind you. You turn quickly at the sound only to find Talo standing tall at your chest, a thin fishing pole draped proudly over his shoulder. Colin stops at his side, out of breath but smiling with a pole of his own while Malo shuffles casually behind them both.

You put your hands on your hips, inspecting them. “What are you guys up to?”

“We’re going out to the lake to catch the biggest pike!” Talo announces proudly.

“...But my mom says we need a grown up.” Colin adds tentatively.

“Ah, and I suppose that’s me?” You hum, eyeing them with a knowing smirk.

“Link’s too busy.” Malo mumbles.

You sigh, half at the request you’re about to accept and half at the knowledge that Link is still up at the ranch somewhere. You look them over again, eager and expectant smiles pushing their cheeks into rosy circles as they await your answer. You pretend to think about it, then relent with a huff. They cheer with extended arms while they drag you off. Who are you to deny them?

. . .
It had been hours. Hours of waiting on the shore, watching Talo’s bobber oscillate in the water while you fight sleep. Sitting on the sand, you made small talk to pass the time. You learned from them that Link was usually the one to take them fishing on his days off… and usually the one catching the biggest fish. Colin tells you, with his eyes wide and sparkling, that Link will often take them to train with wooden swords in the forest or on a slingshot rampage around the village (usually at Talo’s behest, but willing nonetheless). You can’t help but smile seeing him talk so excitedly about someone who is clearly his idol. It warms your heart.

As fun as it was taking them fishing, the sitting only served to let your exhaustion catch up to you. You might’ve had to stay longer if it weren’t for Pergie’s call echoing off the houses. You thank her silently while wishing the kids good night.

Dinner at Uli’s is the usual familial pleasantness, only now it’s livened by Colin’s retelling of his afternoon at the lake. You listen with a smile, but can’t help noticing that Link isn’t here, and the worry seeps in again.

When dinner is over, you rush your goodbyes and kiss Uli goodnight before heading for Link’s house. The window in his door glows faintly far off in the trees, and a string of smoke flows from the chimney. A fire’s lit. You hurry up the ladder and swing open the door, but the house is empty.

You survey the main area, checking the loft and bed, even calling down the ladder into the basement to make sure he’s not down there. After confirming his absence, you immediately think of the spring. He must be there.

You’re out the door and down the ladder in a heartbeat, hoping to use the fleeting light of the sun to guide you through the woods. Fireflies begin glowing around you as the sky grows ever darker. Their dim light swirls around in the air like the street lamps back in town- but here it’s quiet. No distant footsteps or laughter- only gentle wind and flowing water.

Passing through the spring gate, you’re greeted with the sight of the spring again. Ethereal and serene even in the hazy crepuscule of the evening. Your eyes follow the flow of the crystal water until they land on a figure under the waterfall. Link.

His body splits the flow of water over each side of his frame, water spilling over him in smooth rivulets. Your eyes trace the coursing water down his skin to where it meets the cold water just at his lower back. His hands push the hair from his forehead back over the top of his head, sending an arc of water out behind him. With practiced ease, he slides his hands over his body, letting the cold water wash away the filth from his lean form.

You’re ashamed at how hard you’re straining to see him in the dark. You look quite the degenerate watching a man bathe while you stand in the open only a few paces away. Without thinking, you call to him. He turns in a panic, arms crossing over one another to cover his chest.

For a moment, you can’t speak. Your lips part, but you find no words. Every second that passes where you stand on the water’s edge without speaking makes things worse, so you turn things on him.

“Why didn’t you wake me this morning?” You blurt.

“What?” He sputters out.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” You repeat as he steps a little closer- close enough to hear you but not enough to expose himself above the water.

“But I didn’t need anything.” He explains.

“That’s not the point. I was worried about you.”

“Worried?”

“Yes! How could I not be after finding you writhing in your bed?”

He looks at you standing on the bank. The setting sun bathes you in a warm light and casts a long shadow across the sand. He looks like he’s trying to find something to say, expression pensive and eyebrows furrowed. It takes a moment, but he finally speaks.

“I’m getting out so we can talk properly.” He insists.

You nod slowly, turning towards the gate and listening to the sound of lapping water behind you as he steps out onto the bank. There’s a quiet rustle of clothes, then a tap on your shoulder.

“I must confess.” He says quietly when you finally face him.

“That wasn’t the first time I'd had that dream.” He breathes, “I didn’t think much of it…until I grabbed you, believing you were a monster. Surely that’s not normal.”

You shake your head, trying to understand what he’s telling you.

“The dreams are becoming more ominous. I don’t know what to make of it.” The words fall from his mouth with an edge of desperation- like he’s been waiting to tell someone what he’d been experiencing. He starts to shrink into himself until you finally speak.

“That’s-” you begin quietly, “-not good.” He grimaces, but you continue quickly.

“But I once had horrible dreams in the night too. I sought help from the fortune teller in town, and she told me that often when the heart is heavy with emotion, the mind tries to make sense of it while we sleep- hence the strange dreams.”

Link nods thoughtfully, expression relaxing slightly.

The warm evening wind and moon’s silver light turn his hair into golden brown gossamer and his eyes to deep blue pools. Once again he becomes some sort of otherworldly spirit- a spirit of the forest perhaps. In this quiet moment of connection, you feel a selfish desire crawl up your spine, but you quickly suppress it.

“Just… Please let me know you’re all right next time, okay? I thought you were horribly ill.”

His lips curl into a small smile.

“Okay.”

He’s calm for a moment until a gust of wind sends a shiver up his body and you’re quickly reminded of his damp clothes and hair. With a laugh, you put a hand on his back to guide him out through the gate.

“Let’s get you by the fire.”

Chapter Text

Walking through the center of town now is quite the sight on the eve of the summer festival. Paper lanterns hang from tree branches and ropes tied from bough to bough. Other smaller paper garlands, like the ones you had hung outside Sera’s shop, are suspended higher up than the lanterns. In the easy weather of the day, the colorful paper flutters in the breeze while the lanterns swing back and forth.

Woven baskets filled with ripe fruits, berries, bright squash, rice, and corn rest up against houses and sit on makeshift banquet tables. These treasures of the summer harvest are usually cooked as part of the feast, but much of it is given away as a party favor for the residents.

At the edge of the main square sits the half-built wooden stage- the one Link and several other men had spent time building in the past couple days. It’s small and of rather shoddy construction, but it’s more than big enough for the resident musical troupe to perform.

All of these things encircle a large area of flattened dirt that is to be the dancing square in the evening. Most every strand in the web of rope intersects here at the center. The cluster of lanterns here is sure to make good light in the later hours of the night.

Today is the festival.

This morning you’d asked Uli if she needed help with anything, and she waved you to the pile of half-made baskets in the corner. When you agreed, she suggested you sit outside in the shade while you worked. So you’d marched outside with an armful of willow whips to help her weave a new fishing creel... That was until she went inside an hour ago.

You tried to stay diligent, but the weaving became rather complicated, and without her guidance the task quickly felt impossible. So instead, you sit back, letting your eyes lazily follow the strings of lanterns from tree to tree until they reach the stage. At the base is Link, Rusl, and three other men, all crouching around the supports and hammering at the wood.

For the first time all morning, the hammering slows and you watch curiously as the group gathers and gestures at the structure. One of the men, a man you don’t entirely recognize, kicks at a few places in the wooden supports- when the structure doesn’t move, they all nod and begin packing up the tools and scrap wood.

After talking to Rusl, Link begins walking to where you sit, a rag slung over his shoulder. It’s a little past noon, but he already looks exhausted from the summer heat. You scoot over for him so he can sit in the shade, pulling your collection of willow to the side for him.

“All done?” You ask, fingers returning to weaving- though it’s more mindless fidgeting than actual work.

“Think so. Thadd and Rusl checked the supports- seems sturdy.” He hums, removing the rag from his shoulder to wipe his forehead. You follow his motions from the corner of your eyes, only looking away when he opens his eyes again.

“Wouldn’t want the musicians to end up in a pile of broken timbers mid-song… then again it might be funny.” You laugh dryly.

He furrows his brow, “That’s awful.”

Turning to him, you find his features in a half-frown half-smile. It’s an expression you’ve never seen on him… or anyone for that matter. You laugh a little, covering your mouth and turning away.

“Of course I would never wish that Link, you think so little of me.”

He shakes his head with a smile and lies back in the grass beside you, enjoying the break from the scorching sun. For a moment, the only noise is the rustling of the willow branches as you try to weave them through the frame. When several strands come undone in your hands, you huff and set the collapsing creel aside.

“Not working out?” Link inquires quietly.

“Unfortunately… No. Uli’s left me to fend for myself and I'm not faring too well.”

“Is she at home?”

“Yes… said she wasn’t feeling too well. Summer heat must’ve gotten to her.”

Link nods in understanding, some small drops of sweat still dripping down his face.

“That reminds me- I have to get back with Uli to finish a few more baskets, so I’ll likely not see you until the dance- but I hope you’ll come find me.”

Link gazes at you from where he lies, interested in your proposition, “Sure.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight.” You chirp.

. . .

Back in her house, you step inside to find Uli on the sofa facing the fireplace. Over the hearth sits a handmade talisman in the shape of a horseshoe. It’s covered in wildflowers and tree branches endemic to Ordon as well as some small river stones and dried berries. It’s a token of good luck for the birth- must’ve been from someone in the village, probably Ilia.

Uli leans her head back over the edge of the sofa to look at you, putting down her book in her lap.

“Did the basket get too complicated?” She inquires.

You meekly hold up the mess of willow whips for her to see. Uli titters quietly and pats the space next to her.

“Come, I’ll show you.”

. . .

Apparently, basketry isn’t so difficult once you get the general pattern down, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly time consuming. By the time you had finished that original creel and two other hampers, you could see through the window that the impromptu dinner tables were already pushed aside for the dance.

With so little time before the actual dance starts, you decide to get ready at Uli’s house. She brushes your hair and helps lace your dress- a beautifully embroidered piece of linen, hand-stitched by your mother. She made it when she was a little younger than you are now, the uneven stitchwork tells you so. Uli had kept it in her possession as the last thing your mother left behind in Ordon- now she’s giving it to you.

“I hope you are excited.” Uli coos while laying small yarrow flowers in your hair.

“I am.” You reply quietly, “Though I am sad to see you’re not feeling well enough to join me.”

“Oh, it’s all right dear. I only ask that you bring me some squash- it’s my favorite.” She smiles.

“Certainly.”

With a final flower, she sits back in her chair, gently stroking her apron while she inspects you. The fire crackles quietly behind her and you stand to face her, hands gently feeling over the delicate flowers.

“You look just like your mother. So beautiful.” She sighs.

A bashful warmth spreads across your cheeks, though the tinge of sorrow does not go unnoticed.

“Go to the festival and have fun sweet girl, I’ll be here.”

You look at her tranquil form engulfed by the golden glow of the embers. Her eyes speak of something maternal and calm, full of love and gentility. The air of safety that surrounds her draws you in, and, for a moment it feels like a distant dream- one that you’d long forgotten. A sudden chorus of boisterous laughter and clapping outside the door snaps you out of your musing.

“Thank you, I will.” You wave with a smile. A quiet flutter and click of the door and you’re off into the night.

Within seconds of walking down the path, you find yourself in the middle of a large crowd. People around you chatter with delight as they pass around food and ale. The musicians begin a lively song from the stage and cheers from the crowd erupt in a wave. You push through the dancing people, eyes searching for someone you know. They quickly land on Sera's ample form sitting outside her shopfront and chatting excitedly with a group of women. You shimmy through several groups of people and catch her attention with a wave, the other women turning to face you. They quickly burst into enthusiastic adulation at the sight of you.

“Sera! Have you seen Link?” You ask over the noise.

“My! Don’t you look just darling tonight! Hmm… no, I haven’t seen Link around yet.” She hums, lips curling into a smile at the mention of Link. A couple of the women giggle and smile at you too. Your cheeks heat up and your posture stiffens.

“Thanks anyways.” You sigh, turning to continue the search. From behind you, Sera calls out,

“Go check the tables by the water mill!”

You take note of her suggestion and disappear back into the crowd. Unfortunately, the clusters of jubilant people push you not towards the water wheel, but instead towards the center of the dancing square. You stumble for a moment, then fall into someone.

“I’m sorry- Oh- Hello Beth!”

Beth turns to face you, her small frame still swaying with the music as she stands before you.

“Heyyy!” She sings sweetly, “I’m happy you’re here! Colin and Malo could not have been less interested in dancing with me. Those jerks left me to dance on my own- can you believe that?”

“Ahh… a little actually-”

“Well you’re here now, and you can dance with me!”

“Um I-”

Beth doesn’t give you any time before she’s got you swaying with her to the rather rousing string instruments emanating from the stage. Your eyes crinkle with laughter, quickly forgetting your search for Link in favor of this dance with Beth. She laughs excitedly when you twirl her, the skirt of her dress fluttering out in the night air.

As the end of the song nears, the musicians pick up the tempo and people cheer again. Several couples towards the center link arms and swing each other in circles around the dancing square. You and Beth are quick to join in and spin in time with the others. The song ends in a passionate crescendo and everyone collapses with applause. You look at Beth, her cheeks red with joy and laughter, laughter that you can’t help but mirror.

“Okay, I need to sit down…” You huff, hand clutching your chest in the hope to regain your breath.

“Me too.” She agrees, small fingers adjusting her tousled hair.

Finally standing straight again, you turn on your heels in the direction of the lake… that is until your spin sends you stumbling into someone’s chest. Of course, when you look up, it’s Link who stands before you.

Though the lantern light above you is dim, you can still make out most aspects of his attire. His hair is brushed neatly into a low, small ponytail with many strands of his bangs falling back over his face. His loose ranch clothes are now exchanged for a more well-fitted ivory tunic and dark pants, and finely-crafted leather boots are laced up over his calves. It looks… good.

He gazes at you with the same placid look as always.

“You look beautiful.” He comments, strong eyes unabashed by your curious nature.

“And you, rather dashing.” You praise, finding it within yourself to be more confident than usual… Perhaps his look of interest at your apparel is giving you the boost you need.

“Well, I’m afraid to say, but I don’t think we’re really allowed to stand in the dance circle.” You tease.

“Are you asking for a dance?” He quirks a brow.

“Are you in the mood for dancing?” You counter, hips swaying side to side.

He only chuckles in response, amused by your change in attitude.

“Let’s dance then.” You smile.

A new, slower song starts. You take Link’s hands and lead him in a square with your feet. It was a dance you’d seen performed many times in Castletown square by noblewomen, and, on occasion, by a group of drunkards at the bar. Link picks up the rhythm and soon takes over in leading, as you imagined he might.

For several minutes, your feet step around in a square with Link’s. In an attempt to lessen any tension from your proximity, you let your gaze follow the cheery people who sway around you, but Link’s eyes are focused on you alone. You share in the laughter of the crowd, but it fades when you look back at Link. At some point he had pulled you a step closer. He peers at you in a way that seems relaxed… but you know better than that.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but a new song washes over the mass of tipsy farmers. In an instant, you and Link are thrust together. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around his torso, trying to protect yourself from the raucous dancers around you. He wraps an arm around your back and holds you firmly against his chest while pushing his way out of the center square. When he lets go, you find yourself outside the densest part of the festival.

“Thank you…” You sigh.

Link looks down at you, still holding you in his arms. His quiet pants fall in time with yours and neither of you say anything- not with words at least. Link lets you go except for your hand, which he takes in his. With a firm grasp, he leads you to the hill by the ranch, but instead of climbing all the way to the ranch, he takes you off the path to a small ledge halfway up. It hangs just over the top of Mayor Bo’s house, giving you a good view of the party below.

You don’t look at Link when you sit down, just keep your eyes fixated on the musicians. You’re too scared. At the corner of your eye, you can see he’s doing the same.

“It’s nice to see everyone having so much fun.”

“Seems Beth had fun with you.”

“Oh, you saw?” You laugh sheepishly.

He nods, a smile playing at his lips.

You go quiet again, the sound of crickets and distant music fills the space between you. You fiddle with the edge of your dress and roll the hem between your thumb and index finger, hoping he’ll say something. Of course he doesn’t.

“Oh Link…” You sigh, an undertone of frustration in your breath. He only turns his head to you, trying to keep up his usual insouciance, but he’s pursing his lips and squeezing his hands together. While you look off at the party, thinking of something to say, he’s watching your lips. Just as you turn to him, he closes the gap, propping himself up on his arm to kiss you.

Surprise melts quickly into fervor and you return his kiss with wandering hands. He moves closer in a heartbeat and lets you lay your arms over your shoulder. He reciprocates with a warm hand on your cheek.

The world completely dissolves around you. No longer do you feel the chill of the night air, the vibrant music, or the crickets. It’s just Link who takes up all your senses, his presence all consuming.

He’s a little sloppy, inexperienced no doubt, but he’s really just mirroring you and letting instinct do the rest.

…Through the hazy stupor that clings to your body, you hear something.

A cry. More like a scream.

Link stops, parting from you to listen too. You crane your neck around, straining to hear it again. Then, piercing through the night, just over the music, you hear another. Your eyes land on the small house a ways off from the base of the hill. Your hands go cold and you snap back to Link.

“Uli.”