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Chapter Text

Zelda would not tell anyone what finally unlocked her powers. 

Ganon came a week early. Zelda was in Kakariko with the champions. For all intents and purposes, they were shooting the breeze. 

To the King’s dismay, Urbosa insisted on an excursion for her highness to commemorate her soon-to-be-coming-of-age to hike Mt. Lanayru. And if it were truly that important that she continued with her prayer, Kakariko village was the best place to do it. Religiously streamlined. Geologically protected. Extremely safe, but with the propensity to be extremely productive. 

For all the gold in the kingdom, the King cannot say no to Urbosa. 

When the 5 champions and the princess are in Kakariko, Calamity strikes. The champions disburse to pilot the beasts. The princess and hero haul ass to the castle to fight. Zelda inexplicably unlocks her powers. 

That's the objective, chronological version of it. Link experienced it differently. There are details missing that he should be able to recall, long dark stretches of memories. When he tries to remember the week at Kakariko, he seldom recalls a couple of good meals, the smiling ease of the champions.

Mostly, he remembers his fists were always clenched and clammy, nails digging into his palms. He remembers a clenched jaw. Eyes trying to draw an escape route in the wooden patterns of the ceiling at night. And when he recounts those days, Kakariko is only a note of it. The rest is...

Zelda likes to refer to it tastefully as "The Battle." Daruk just says "Ganondorf." Mipha and Revali don't talk about it much at all. The knights (and Urbosa) get more creative with it; Once, another guardsman said: "When you pulverized that fucker." Another righteously put it: "slaughtered the pig." Well, the actual killing of the Calamity was neither here nor there. It's a thing of the past, now's the time to recover, celebrate, retire.

Or so Link thought until he was sitting in a meeting room with every royal consultant and their assistants (and princess Zelda of course,) plotting the "next course of action." The champions, re-centralized at the castle, had no qualms about it. Zelda was exceedingly enthusiastic about an adventurous expedition. Link stood at attention behind their chairs, his shield arm in a sling and bandages on his burns, and said nothing.

Fanfare sends them on their way on horseback, each champion equipped with whatever artillery wasn't broken on doomsday. They even brought an extra horse to carry their luggage.

"I understand as well as any of you the importance of this little voyage but, really, horses?" Revali wastes no time in complaining, and Link would lie to say he didn't enjoy watching him struggle to straddle his horse. "All the wealth in the Kingdom, and we can't afford a couple of wagons?"

"I'm grateful to be off my legs, but I almost feel bad for the poor things." Mipha looks unnatural on a horse, anxiously fretting about its mane. It's hard to see from the back of the group, but Link notices her eyeing Revali with distaste.

"I only feel bad for Daruk's," Revali comments under his breath. Daruk, however, is doing fine horseback, and the castle-appointed stable hand made sure he was paired with a mount fitting his size. A Gerudo mare with a deep brown coat. Link spares a glance to Urbosa and finds her gripping the reins like a weapon, legs not quite comfortable in the stirrups. "Oh, this is ridiculous. The only people here who like rubbing their groin on an animal are you Hylians."

Zelda, leading the group and poised as ever on her white mount, peaks back at Link, smiling. Link doesn't care for Revali's lack of appreciation for horses, but he likes that Zelda can smile nowadays, so he smiles back.

"Didn't you ride a horse into battle with Ganondorf, little guy?" Asks Daruk. He and Urbosa look at him now, and Mipha and Revali turn their heads to await his answer. He has all their attention as if he were sharing the details of some juicy castle gossip. It makes him queasy. Link nods. "Is this that one?" Daruk asks, and he seems excited about it.

Link's warhorse died when a guardian beam aimed for him missed by some odd inches.

"She's recovering." Says Link, in his quiet kind of tone. He looks down at the horse he's riding now. It's fine, a random stable stallion. Does he even know its name?

"It'll only take some getting used to, anyways," Urbosa says to Revali as she seems to realize her ankles don't need to be so tense. "We have time now," and she smiles in a way Link's not sure he's seen on her. It would be rueful if not for the way her eyes and nose crinkled, her eyebrows lifting microscopically.

"Oh, yeah," Revali agrees, and behind his eyes is a warm, unseen sentimentality. Link wonders if anyone else catches it. "Time."

Again, Link looks down to appraise the stallion. No, it wasn't anything like his horse at all. This one was a little too big for Link. It likes to huff at him and doesn't accept apples and carrots. Even the gear and accessories they've equipped are all wrong. Link's old horse's saddle was enchanting in the most subtle way, and the gold-stained accents were long before his use rubbed silver. This leather is unworn and ill-fitting, but a second ago that didn't seem to unsettle him so much.

Link's warhorse was undeniably (and very embarrassingly) one of Link's best friends. He swears she knew exactly what he was thinking, just from the way she nosed him when he was extra quiet. And she never minded him leaning over to lay his cheek in her well-kept mane, or when he'd braid flowers into it on particularly slow expedition days. It intrigued him how unaware she was that she was a tool to the kingdom. She ran into a field on fire out of no thought or conviction of her own mind. For that, Link thinks, she earned her death.

But in the moment, it surprises him how much he wishes he could lean over and bury his face in her mane.

-

"Those two will never get along, will they?"

Zelda takes a seat next to Link, criss-cross at the fire. The casualty of it all is such a novelty to him: Her hair is in braids and she's in simple, dark, riding pants. Briefly, he wonders how true it was when she told him about "serving the public eye" on this trip. Not that he thinks she shouldn't be able to wear shit-stained riding boots and a sensible cloak and tunic. She looks good either way.

He's sure he looks worse for wear, on the other hand. Ugly cuts tear up the planes of his face. They're nothing new, but there's one particularly nasty gash running up his cheek right now, all the way across the nose. It's still healing, and the skin is still kind of raw in some parts and just starting to scab around the edges. He's reminded of something he heard from the castle seamstress once when she fitted him for some ceremonial garb, on the importance of facial harmony. He imagines she would find his face quite discordant, were she to see him again.

At Zelda's words, he glances over to find Mipha and Revali in argument.

"- Why would you even insinuate such a thing? I'll have you know that where I'm from, they value working for what you have -"

"I never meant to suggest that you don't work hard. I only meant that complaining wasn't helping your issue-"

If Link had to guess, Revali was the one in the wrong. He smiles, because it's a funny thing to watch, and also to show Zelda he's listening. For a breath, she seems to have trouble finding her words.

"I... I know you don't talk often, but I know you can sign. I've seen you do it. I've been working on mine, so I could probably understand if you- I mean, if that would be preferable, we can." Zelda says, carefully.

Fuck, she thinks he doesn't know how to talk to her. He doesn't, but that's not why he's quiet. It's simply far more comfortable for him to listen. Talking feels like pulling a bucket up from a gnarly, polluted well. He takes a breath as if to say something, but Revali interrupts:

"Princess, please settle this for me. Mipha thinks I'm lazy-"

"Quite untrue. I said, 'Revali, if you want dinner cooked in a certain way, why don't you go help Link at the fire?' And you said-"

"She basically told me that I wasn't pulling my weight. You didn't need to say it, I know that's what you meant."

"- And at that point, Revali went and insulted my Healing. Which you must know took years to perfect-"

"Oh, please-"

In her authoritative tone, Urbosa calls: "Silence." She had been silent, sitting in her own corner of camp on a downed tree. The light of the fire just barely illuminates her stern features, and she appears as somewhat of a specter. "That's enough out of you, Revali. Wouldn't want you to ruffle those prim feathers of yours, anyway."

To that, Daruk lightly chuckles. He is on his own across camp too, scribbling something in the dirt with a stick. Zelda sighs and brings her attention back to Link with a fondly exasperated expression, and maybe she wouldn't mind it if he didn't respond to her, like always. It would be easier, but...

It's not as if he wants to keep quiet. At least not forever. So he raises his hands to sign,

"Silence is easier for me. But you can tell me anything."

That's what he means to say, anyway. Hylian sign is blunt, and his skills in the language are admittedly rusty. Sentence structure muddies up complicated ideas. His expressionless countenance makes for clumsy intonation. What Zelda sees him sign is closer to: "Quiet more easy. But you talk good."

Hylia, how she must see him. Refuses to talk, and when he does, he does so ineloquently.

A twig snaps. The sound comes from behind Revali, who whips his head around, and after the briefest moment of being stunned, procures a bow and arrow from his back, aims, and fires. With a distinct thwap, the arrow lodges itself into the attacker.

"Monsters!" Revali calls, and then he's off the ground and flying up into tree branches. From there, everything happens very quickly.

The Moblin rips the arrow out of its stomach, a grotesque tearing sound as inky purple blood spews from the wound. To no one in particular, it screams, then starts for the next closest body, which happens to be Link.

But Daruk has already gotten out his hammer and started swinging. A killing blow to the head gets the Moblin dead on the floor - there are more coming.

Link sees flying arrows and Champions brandishing their holy weapons. The dazzling current of magic makes their campsite-turned-arena feel hotter. He perspires and detachedly grabs the Master Sword and his shield from the dirt they lay in. On instinct, Zelda stays behind him.

Urbosa shouts, either in manic glory or in pain. There seem to be arrows flying from all directions now, locusts forming patterns in the sky. A crash of leaves, and Link sees that Revali has fallen from his vantage point. As he scrambles to his feet, a monster rams into Mipha, who lands on Revali, who dips a wing in the fire. He squawks (in pain or insult, Link can't tell.) Zelda gasps and procures her waterskin. Link feels his gut drop with dread when she leaves his side to pour water on the flames. The smell is remarkably similar to the battlefield with Ganon. Link feels the stinging smoke of pink ash. The sword feels very heavy.

Now there are two monsters on Urbosa, one on Daruk, and Mipha and Revali attack one. As Mipha does her elegant melee and Revali aims a shot, the latter's eyes go wide.

"Mipha-!" Revali tackles her to the ground, just in time for a widely swinging bat to miss her head. One of the Moblin's on Urbosa had lost interest and was now flailing with its colossally-sized bat as if it were a magic wand.

From the ground, Mipha plunges her spear up and kebabs the 'Blin. Urbosa and Daruk finish off their respective foes, leaving one monster who at some point had its arm lobbed off by Urbosa. Almost casually, Revali shoots an arrow into its heart.

"...Is everyone alright?" Asks Zelda. 'Blins corpses are scattered, rapidly decomposing in the dirt. The putrid smell of their blood wafts up.

As Mipha catches her breath (as if she went for a light jog, hardly breaking a sweat,) she appraises Revali. "Let me take a look at that," she says and gently takes his wing and guides him to sit beside her at the fire. Daruk easily sits right where he had stood. He pokes at a Blin corpse (now just mush) with a stick.

"Well, I think that was a good enough reminder of any," Urbosa speaks up. She crosses the camp, takes a piece of loincloth from around the waist of a corpse, and uses it to wipe the blood off her blade.

"Reminder..?" Zelda asks, joining Mipha and Revali at the fire.

"Well, we're not here to see the sights. Or have lively conversation. This is a cleanup mission. Hyrule is still dangerous." Distracted, she wrings out the cloth into the dirt. "If they can't depend on us to fight off a handful of Moblins, then who can they depend on?"

"'Bosa, what's got your goat? We won." Daruk says lightheartedly. Link thinks, win might be the wrong verbiage. You win a spar between two equally equipped soldiers. Hell, you win a chess game. You slaughter monsters, or monsters end you. Urbosa gets a heavy look in her eye, and she glances around camp. There's a beat that, for the rest was only filled with leaves and crickets, for Link held a strange and unexpected suspicion. Then, she says: "There will be no more stupid quarrels on this trip." She sheaths her blade and sits down in disgusted finality. "I will it."

Her heavy gaze falls on Link, and he belatedly realizes he's still standing, still gripping the sword and shield.

That night, Link smells ash in his sleep.

Chapter Text

The party arrives at the Domain with sore ears. Zelda is only half aware of the tragedy that is the fact that while everyone else may escape into some scant hours of solitude , she must endure the agonizing ordeal of a political summit. This ordeal (and it is an ordeal,) wouldn't be bad on its own. Not preferable, but not a foreign pain in the ass. 

It's just the fact that on the way here, Revali would not stop talking. Or rather, squawking. And bragging. Loudly. 

Actually, the whole leg of travel had been a bit sullied. The hike up to the domain was supposed to be beautiful. Such serene shades of blue surrounded the trail- in the streamlined architecture, in the crystalline river running nearby. And the aquatic genome that populated the outskirts of the trail were calling to her, begging to be analyzed, at the very least, looked at . Alas, trailing behind the group to squat down and sketch a lotus plant would have been unbecoming, for one, but also dangerous as the path was overrun with lizalfos.

Revali insisted on flying above the group, about 15 yards ahead, just to prove he could. He'd pluck off one or two monsters before idling in the air in front of them, taunting: "Hard to see down there, hm? Can't scout ahead from ground level, can you, hero?" 

And that is when a lizalfos that Revali had inevitably missed (their camouflage abilities seemed designed specifically to be Revali-proof,) would spring up from seemingly nowhere. Such common monsters weren't particularly troublesome, especially not with the sheer force of all the champions' strength combined. But it kept happening. And the time taken to slash the scales of each lizal added up. Revali continued to tease Link. Link of all people. For all that the hero reacted, one would think that he didn't hear at all. Zelda wondered what Revali could possibly get out of what was essentially bullying a brick wall. (Hypocritical, given her past behaviors. But she doesn't think she was ever quite as unaware as Revali is acting.)

The one who reacted the most was Urbosa, at first coolly returning quips after each missed monster ("Trying to keep us on our toes, Revali? Or are you actually that 'blin-brained?") but she eventually snapped, patience worn thin with the game Revali had apparently been playing. 

They were coming up on a camp of lizals, on their haunches and resting around a crudely made fire. They had no way of knowing this, however, because Revali flew over the bend in the road that blocked their view of the danger. They only saw Revali scanning the ground from the sky, then do this self-satisfied sort of smile, before he impressively notched and fired multiple arrows at once, in one swift, smooth motion. 

"Ha! And they said the trail here would be dangerous!" He swiftly soared back to the ground, right in front of Link, all but blocking the latter from continuing to walk forward. "So much for protecting one's charge." He said. Casual, as if he were throwing taunts at an opponent in a game of cards. 

Link didn't respond, obviously. But his eyes narrowed at something over Revali's shoulder. Then, he heartily pushed Revali to the side with one arm and brandished his sword with the other. In an instant, the glint of steel flourished in the sun, and there was a dead Lizalfos rapidly decomposing at his feet. Link looked pointedly at Revali as he returned the sword to its scabbard. It could’ve been interpreted as this: for Link, such a poignant expression was the equivalent of written poetry expressing a deeply reciprocated rivalry. An assent of hatred. 

Revali's response to this, then, was proportional.

He scoffed, which morphed into a bitter laugh, then said, "I'm sure the Zora will be impressed by your achievement of killing one whole monster. Well done."

"Revali, you fool. "

"Excuse me-?"

Urbosa shoved Revali on the chest, and he hit the face of a boulder at the side of the trail. Her tone was even, her actions were measured. It was the look on her face, the rigid line of her shoulders, that indicated how well and truly pissed she was. She towered over Revali, her shadow encompassing him. 

"Is there a reason you're acting this dense?”

"I-"

"Let me explain what it looks like to me. You're purposefully wasting time, energy, and resources every time your inflated ego blinds you to the danger we’re facing. What, are you trying to catch us off guard? Unless you really are this careless when it comes to the lives of your comrades, and all of this is a sick game to you. Which is it, Revali? Are you an enemy, or are you just stupid?" Her gaze drops to the ground, eyes travelling from the felled monster, up to Link, still standing there. "Or are you really that distracted by the prospect of being impressive? "

“Urbosa…” Came Mipha’s pleading, lightly distraught voice. It did not seem to reach Urbosa. 

To his credit, Revali didn't seem all too scared of Urbosa's towering presence, which Zelda has always considered to be formidable enough to rival a Lynel, even if she were unequipped with her scimitar. He gulped once, then cocked his head, and refused to break eye contact. 

"Funny."

" What? " Urbosa growled.

"Funny that you're accusing me of sabotage. When you yourself attempted to feed us all poison for breakfast this morning."

Ah, yes. It was Urbosa's turn to prepare the rations they brought along for breakfast. And that morning, well, they were down a half a pound of food and no fuller of stomach for it. 

At this, Urbosa backed away from Revali. She quirked a wry, sort of strained smile. "Hm." She started to continue to walk along the path, and called, "Just let me know when you plan on taking any of this seriously, champion."

Everyone resumed the hike then, content with Urbosa at the front of the group. After that exchange, Revali started flanking. Moments later, Zelda heard Mipha softly dole out some of her sage wisdom on him. Or perhaps it was sympathies at being a target of Urbosa's wrath. She couldn't quite hear. Either way, she caught Revali's bitter reply:

"Well. It's not as if any of this is a real threat. Not with him here, anyway."

Evidently, Link heard this too. Zelda picked up the near imperceptible hitch of his breath. The way he flinched. 

Now, the high blaze of the sun is obscured by increasingly dark rain clouds drifting in from the East. Zelda convenes with King Dorephan, alongside Mipha. Link stays a few paces behind her. Amidst the pleasantries and the gymnastic efforts of political conversation , she manages to glance back at him. She doesn’t know what she expects to find, but these days the sight of him is somewhat of a reprieve for whatever reason. 

What Zelda sees now is Link facing forward, as staunch as ever. But his eyes wander to the trees cresting the cliffs above the Domain. They sway erratically with wind she does not feel, as the Domain is surrounded by cliffs as a sort of wind shelter. She catches a measure of weariness from the twitch of his ears. Perhaps he is just eager to eat at the banquet later. Even more likely, he wants to escape the politicking, just as much as Zelda does.

The truth is that the only thing Zelda can do is guess as to what he feels and thinks. 

Zelda mentally admonishes herself for her slip in concentration, and, with great effort, channels her will to focus on the conversation at hand. Dorephan is every ounce of the King her father is, with none of the… more prickly qualities she associates with home. This amounts to an ability to speak to Dorephan with just the right measure of formality to charm him, and induce an impression of the cheery state of the kingdom and its champions. But not so casual that he doesn’t understand the seriousness with which she is handling her station. 

It is all very precise, and exhausting, and by the time Mipha politely shoos both Link and Zelda off to prepare for the banquet, Zelda’s head aches from the tension of her carefully imposed smile. 

Zelda knows Link understands this, and when he looks at her, his eyebrows draw together just so, indicating sympathy. He feels this pressure too, judging from the way the clench of his jaw subtly uneases.

Looking at Link, framed by the clouding sky and the Domain’s dizzying array of blues, Zelda is suddenly struck with this sickening feeling. That look in his tired eyes (when did they get so weary-looking?), the trust she sees sculpted there in his relaxed, barely-there smile. It is all entirely misplaced. 

For all that Zelda can weave through a conversation and play the politico. For all of her studies and determination and prayer. Even for how she was able to seal Ganon…

She is certain that the kingdom is placing their lives in the hands of a princess who is a fraud. Because since that horrible battle in the field, since something that was not her, and did not come from her, possessed her body and sealed the beast for her - she has not been able to replicate this ability. 

In fact, she has never felt further from Hylia. 

- 

By the time an exuberant feast has been doled out and people have begun to sit, the rain has started. Just a smattering, but the drops are thick, and there's a distinct chill. The Zora are unbothered by this- enlivened, even, by the moisture, and people uninterested in the food mingle around the Domain’s reception area. It’s all terribly lively, but thankfully casual. For all of the pomp of the champions’ ceremonial garb, the proceedings of the evening are down to earth (or sea, rather,) common citizens seated next to apparent nobility. 

Though the Zora like the rain, it becomes clear that it won’t do well to let the food get rained on, and so a couple of familiar Zora guards begin to pitch a tent. Link takes the opportunity to leave the table and assist them. As he fastens the final corner of the shelter to a support beam, one of the soldiers lightly punches his arm.

“From saving Hyrule to pitching tarps. Talk about a downgrade, huh, Link?” 

As if he’s above tying up a tarp. As if he’s better than anyone here. Unbidden, a feeling in his chest tightens. The soldier’s name is Tamika, and she is well enough acquainted with Link that she doesn’t expect a reply. But he kind of wants to tell her that the menial tasks he’s been put to around the domain have been the good part about his day. 

After escorting the princess to her meeting with the king, Zelda dismissed him to do… something. He wasn’t going to invade her privacy, especially now that the Domain is 100% certifiably safe. Not now that she wasn’t technically his charge anymore. A terrible pit opened in Link’s stomach when he realized he had nothing to do now. It was staggering how quickly his sense of direction disintegrated once Zelda was gone.

He knows now, after the dust of everything has settled, that there is something intrinsic to being a person that Link seems to be utterly lacking. This was not a problem before. But when it comes time to receive quips like Tamika’s and attend Gods damned banquets, Link flounders. No, he is not better than anyone here.  One should not have any more reason to revere him than they have reason to revere a scythe in the corner of a farmer’s shed, dulling with use and eventually rusting over. 

That’s why, when the innkeep approached him to ask if he could help wrangle some bass for the entree tonight (“Just like old times, eh Link?”) Link nearly sighed with the relief of being useful. Shortly after that, the school of kids he used to roughhouse with when he was young insisted that they needed his help finding a lost treasure of theirs (a very pretty cephalopod,) And after that, one of the royal cooks assumed his sword skills transferred to chopping garnish and, well. The characters of his old haunts wasted no time in acquiring his services. Storm clouds continued to roll in, and before the sun could dip below the cliffs, the uncomfortable fabric of the champion garb was put into his hands and it was time for the banquet. 

Link shrugs at Tamika. He sits back down at the banquet table. He adjusts the gaudy silver embellishments that are nearly cutting off the circulation to his hands. 

Link knows he isn't the only champion itching to be rid of stuffy, royal garments. Urbosa, foremost, doesn't hold her usual relaxed, confident posture, a visible line of tension across her collar bone. Her warm skin and clothes are stark against the cool monochromatic domain.

In contrast, Revali is perfectly comfortable, sitting in poised display at the table. But when one well-meaning soldier asks, "I'll bet it was scary, in the epicenter of the battle?" Revali bristles, catches a reply on his tongue, and eventually grits out,

"...I was in Hebra. Link was at the epicenter." It's quieter than Revali's usual biting tone, but the sound of Link’s name startles him anyway. Some heads in the vicinity of conversation at the banquet table turn to look at him, expectantly. There is a young (relatively young) Zora girl nearby, leaning over her plate to gaze up at him with such an expression of awe and excitement, her eyes are practically sparkling. 

"Goddess! We could hear the fight all the way from here in the East. What was it like?" She asks. 

Link knows by now that his face offers no tell, no hint as to the discomfort the memory of the battle brings him. He can tell by the way she's tilting her head, her gaze flickering over him - she's mapping an image onto him. 

And that’s what he wants, isn’t it? Why else has he spent all this time remaining passive, if not to allow for moments just like this? She must be imagining him executing any number of heroic duties. A courageous fist in the face of a demonic blight. She deserves to imagine this, as does everyone else at the banquet table. They deserve to think that their world is safe, that they have a hero worth admiring. Unfortunately for all of them, this image is a farce. Link’s heart is hammering so loudly, he's afraid the young Zora can hear it. 

"Well?" Revali asks. His eyes are narrowed and he's smiling as if he just got Link in a checkmate. "What was it like, hero?"

And this is ridiculous, really, how the question stumps him. Even more frustrating how now it seems every head at the banquet table has turned to him. He wants to satisfy their curiosity, but his recollection is so black and foggy, he can't begin to articulate it. He searches for any meandering detail to recall, anything he can throw out there with an insignificant tone. As if the specifics even mattered to him at that point, as if everything else about it didn't keep him awake. 

"It was fine. If it weren’t for how Ganon reeked." He says, his best approximation of flippant, a slight simulation of the way he would hear soldiers in the barracks gloat about the more grimy details of battle. 

The Zora girl laughs, a little surprised, a little delighted. Everyone else laughs too, various light hearted reactions arising on the vulgarity of his choice of words. Revali turns away with a sidelong glare and a scoff. 

What Link said was not technically a lie, but it’s not true that he remembers how bad Ganon smelled. He remembers stripping off his clothes in the private hours after the fact, suddenly aware of all the gore that had caked on the fabric of his tunic, and vomiting bile at an odor he, for some reason, did not detect until then. 

Remembering this, Link looks down at the plate of mashed berries, juices leeching into the side of fluffy mashed potatoes, and decides that it would be unsmart to eat it, lest the lurching of his stomach develop any further. 

-

After the banquet, the rainfall intensified, and now obscures the world outside of the unwalled shelter of the inn. There are waterbeds prepared for them in a suite, spread out but not separated. It's oddly comforting to Link that he doesn't have to sleep alone. Since dinner, a haze has clouded Links senses in a way that would be dangerous if he had to fight anything. But the sounds of the water, and the cool surfaces, ground Link somewhat, as he presses the palms of his hands to the chill, hard floor. As if it could shock his amped-up system right. It isn’t quite enough to make him feel normal though, and so he busies himself, sharpening his weapons. 

The other champions are settling in, in their own ways. Daruk and Urbosa have started to become quite the conversationalists. Urbosa's stern exterior is, as Link is discovering, rather easily cracked, but only in private. She's quick to make a joke, which always kind of catches Daruk by surprise before he laughs indulgently. The jokes in question decidedly don't match the tall and sagely image Link has built for her in his mind. 

She has just finished telling a story with a punchline about a voe falling asleep naked and waking up to his...extremity wrapped in a bow, and Daruk laughs as if he's never heard a joke before, literally wiping tears from his eyes.

"HA HA! You're TERRIBLE, 'Bosa!" He hollers. 

"Quite," Mumbles Revali, sitting on the edge of his bed, restringing his bow. He has been for quite some time now, glancing around hoping no one has kept track of the fact that he's re-knotted the string a few times in the past hour. 

Zelda is sitting in her bed too. She's changed out of her boots and removed the heavy silver Zora gauntlets and neck-adorning whatnots. She's very focused on whatever she's cataloging in a journal. Link is so distracted by how content and bright Zelda looks as she's writing that he's caught off guard when she lifts her head and says to the doorway, "Mipha! I thought you'd gone off to your quarters?"

"I've just come to give something to Link," Mipha says, which really catches him off guard. And that's when he notices her entering, holding something behind her back. She strolls in and sits gracefully next to him on the floor against his bed. She unwraps something tied up in cloth to reveal a plate of cheese, bread, and cut up splash fruit. Link just looks at her.

"I... Saw you hadn't eaten anything at the banquet and, well, you're probably hungry. Knowing you. Are you feeling alright?" She whispers. The privacy of the conversation kind of makes Link want to squirm. Like he's in training camp again, receiving an individual scolding from the Captain, away from the older soldiers. 

That's probably not Mipha's intention. She's just always been so aware of the perceptions of others. She must be trying to save him from embarrassment. Link has long admired her skills of observation, but right now really wish they weren't being used on him. 

"I'm okay," He signs. "Thank you. Just a headache. From the pressure. Rain."

"Oh- what was that? I don't know that word."

" Pressure. P-r-e-s-s-u-r-e "

"Oh!" Mipha searches his face. She doesn't seem to find much there. "I see. Some food will help.” 

"Thank you." He signs again.

"Of course," She settles against the mattress. “I’ve missed it here so much. I didn’t even notice the rain.” Link remembers Mipha was practically glowing with excitement at the prospect of returning home. It was marginally ruined by the whole Revali debacle earlier, but she managed to keep her spirits up until she all but disappeared to her familial and royal duties after arrival at the domain. 

“ You were busy today,” He signs, fondly.

“Ha! Very true. I guess I got caught up in things.” She sighs. “My father simply wouldn’t stop singing my praises to the council. Oh, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just a bit embarrassing.” 

Link tilts his head at her.

“Oh, you know. My people love a good dinner. And it can feel nice to be catered to. But after it was all said and done, I just wanted to come back home .” She twiddles with her jewelry. “That doesn’t make much sense, does it? I am home. I…”

A silence lingers. Mipha is looking down at her hands, so Link taps her shoulder, getting her attention so she can see him sign, “ I know what you mean.”

She smiles at him, a little sad, but mostly warm. Then she shakes her head.

“Ah, there I go. Complaining about attention and talking about myself in the same breath.” Link huffs, because Mipha’s probably the only fighter Link’s ever met who actually deserves to talk about herself. “What about you? I recall quite the buzz surrounding your return to the Domain.”

Link shifts. Shrugs. “I’d rather spend time with you guys.”

“Awwww, you big softie.” Mipha shoves him playfully. “You know, Hyrule is supposed to be getting the impression that the six of us are… hm…”

“ A team?”

“More like a united front.”

“ Are we not?”

“I’m not sure.”

Revali once again fails to string his bow - Link only knows this because the string snaps quite loudly, and it makes him flinch. Revali curses under his breath. For the second time, Mipha eyes him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mipha asks, quietly. Link nods immediately. She hums. “Right. Sorry. You’ve a headache. You should get some rest, okay?”

Mipha stands and starts toward the doorway.

Link sits up and grabs her hand. 

"Yes?"

Oops. He didn't mean to do that. But also, he didn't want her to go. He kind of wants her to sit down again and crack open an interesting and concurrently irrelevant conversation, like they used to. He kind of wants to plead to her, ask her to believe he’s infallible, and there’s nothing wrong with him, nor has there ever been.

He remembers looking up at her as a child. Less the vision, her face eclipsed by sun-rays. But the feeling of being safe in the Domain, in her presence. He tries to feel that security now, as he gazes up at her. But the memory comes up short.

"…Link?”

What a mortifying slip up. Link tries to reign himself in. He hastily signs, “Sorry. Nothing. Nevermind.”

“Link. If Revali is being mean to you, you can tell me.”

“WHAT?” Revali squawks. Link stands, scandalized, repeatedly signing frantic negations. 

Mipha giggles at their distress. “Haha! Your faces! I’m only joking!” 

“I would NEVER,” Revali begins, but Mipha is still laughing. She politely covers her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her amusement, but it's present nonetheless.