Chapter Text
The buzz of chatter in the tavern was not unfamiliar to him, and though it did a wonderful job of muffling his thoughts it did little to actually calm his nerves or fill the empty loneliness that felt so heavy in his chest. There were very few things that could seem to get rid of that feeling, it seemed to plague him constantly since the end of the war close to two years ago, but at least the alcohol in his system and multitude of voices echoing around in his head were keeping his brain feeling so foggy that he couldn’t focus too hard on how absolutely miserable he was. He couldn’t think about how lonely he was if he couldn’t think at all, he was just left with an indescribable ache in his chest.
His fingers trembled slightly as he reached out to accept a second glass from the bartender, and he gave his best fake laugh in response to whatever his companion had just said despite not having the faintest idea about what the words that had just been spoken to him could possibly have been.
He’d been sitting up at the bar for quite some time before anyone had spoken to him tonight, probably because he looked nothing like the captain he was supposed to be. He hadn’t felt like making himself look all pretty, he hadn’t bothered to put on makeup to cover his scars, and he hadn’t been assed to straighten his hair either. It’d grown so long over the past year, long enough that he frequently tied it back just to keep it off his neck because it was irritating to feel against his skin and he hated how warm it felt in the summer heat. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to come down to the tavern dressed so casually, and while he’d certainly expected to get less attention than he usually did as Captain Link Barclay, to his absolute surprise he’d gotten almost none. Not until the man he was half paying attention to had sat down next to him.
Link had just ignored the stranger at first, content to sip his drink and wait to be spoken to, but he’d made the mistake of glancing at the guy while the man had also looked at him, and something in his eyes had captured his attention. They were the most gorgeous honey brown he’d ever seen, and he’d froze for a second, just staring at the stranger before he’d successfully torn himself from his thoughts and blinked at him. He wasn’t sure how they’d started having an actual conversation, he had a faint memory of himself being the one to initiate it for some reason, but now he was far too distracted to actually pick up anything the guy was saying to him. The stranger had a soothing voice, he’d made the standard Castletown accent that Link had grown so used to being surrounded by actually sound interesting for once, though Link had noticed something strange in how he spoke. Some kind of lisp, maybe, though it hadn’t been frequent enough in his words for him to really focus on.
He’d started zoning out after the man had said something about how much he adored his horse, and then Link had started glaring at the wallpaper behind the bar. It was so painfully hideous he thought he might actually cry over it, and it was so violent and loud it drowned out almost everything. Except for the crushing loneliness that never left him alone, but nothing could ever really rid him of that.
Though there were things that could free him from it temporarily.
He’d been the one who turned the tone of their little chat at the reminder of why he’d come to the tavern in the first place, forcing himself to ignore the hideous wallpaper and start flirting with the stranger so he could start planting his ideas and get the evening to end how he wanted. The man’s cheeks had gone pink and he’d started stumbling over his words when Link had first switched things up on him, but he’d soon discovered that his companion was ready to match whatever energy he threw at him and the man barely blushed at all when Link suggested they take things upstairs. He’d insisted on paying for the stranger’s drink, which ended up becoming a bit of a small argument because the guy insisted he should pay for Link, but his desperation to just get it over with get what he wanted had had him slamming rupees down on the bar counter before the man could do anything about it, and the next thing he’d known he was standing in the small room the stranger had rented for the night.
Once the door had shut behind them, they just stared at each other for a quick moment before Link tilted his head up and kissed the man, causing his companion to back up and bump into the wall. The stranger was a bit taller than he was and certainly had a more muscular frame, but the man had let himself get moved anyway and Link was a bit confused as to why he was being allowed to do what he wanted and why he hadn’t yet been pinned to the wall.
This was not usually how these encounters went for him and he was slightly overwhelmed by a sense of confusion, even if a small part of him counted it as something of a small victory that his control hadn’t been taken from him the moment the door closed.
Though the stranger didn’t stay up against the wall for long, and after giving him a small smile, he gently held Link’s face and kissed him again as he moved them both away from the door.
A quiet little voice in the back of his mind rose up and told him to stop and just go home, but he shoved it away when he eagerly reciprocated the kiss.
He was supposed to enjoy this, it was supposed to be something pleasurable. He needed to just get over himself and let himself go. So what if it’d hurt in the past? So what if Cia had taken something from him he’d never be able to get back? He was in control of this situation and he was doing this because he wanted to.
He wanted to. He did.
Link swallowed down his panic when he felt the stranger’s hands move to his waist, lifting his arms up to rest one on the man’s shoulders and bury one hand in his short brown hair, just so he had something to do with himself. He was starting to feel a little light headed and his vision was blurring but he ignored it, he was sure he’d be seeing stars for a different reason in a moment or two so there was really no point in trying to fix the problem.
His mind started to drift a bit and he wondered what this man’s reaction to the scars that covered him would be. Some viewed every mark on his skin as just a reminder of the absolute shit show he’d survived, some ignored them completely, and others thought them to be cool and had been insistent on running their fingers over them. He’d pretended not to care much when that happened, but it’d made him incredibly uncomfortable, especially when he was gripped tightly over where his skin had been burned. Volga’s fire had scorched a large portion of his left side, and even though that’d been nearly five years ago the skin could still be sensitive. It pulled oddly when he moved, no matter how often he moisturized the scarred flesh.
The stranger said something to him but he didn’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears, and he struggled a little to stop himself from tripping when he was guided further into the room. It was getting harder to think much as his mind started instinctively fogging over, taking him further and further away from the present. He didn’t do much to fight it, it was just a usual part of how these evenings went for him, and he was content to just let himself slip away until a hand on his face startled him, bringing him sudden clarity just in time to hear his companion speak.
“Um, you know what,” the man let out a nervous laugh, his fingers moving from where they held Link’s jaw to brush his hair behind his ear with unexpected gentleness, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. “I think we’ve both had quite a lot to drink.”
“Well yes, darling,” he huffed, trying not to roll his eyes. “That is what tends to happen at bars.”
“Yes, it is, but…” His companion smiled at him as he trailed off, eyes flicking back and forth between his, as if he wasn’t sure where to look, and Link didn’t like the sudden uncertainty in the man’s face. It made his stomach churn and he suddenly felt vulnerable now that the evening wasn’t progressing in the way he’d expected. “You… You’re really quite lovely, and I’ve enjoyed every moment we’ve spent together this evening, but I…”
Icy cold dread shot through him, and Link found himself growing nauseous. The other man’s hands burned where they touched him, even through the barrier of his clothing where his one hand was still resting on Link’s waist.
“I’m afraid I can’t continue.”
Panic gripped his throat and Link’s heart started pounding in his chest as the situation slipped out of his control in a direction he’d never expected.
“What? I- What do you mean by that??” He choked out, blinking rapidly as his breathing started to pick up. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, he wasn’t supposed to… Why was he stopping? Had Link done something wrong?? “Wh- What do you…?”
“I’m not sure I have your consent,” the man said softly, and Link tried so desperately to escape the painfully compassionate look on his face, but he was trapped staring at those honey brown eyes. “I don’t… I don’t believe you actually want… this.”
Everything came to a screeching halt. His heart felt as if it stopped beating, he couldn’t breathe at all, and his eyes had been held open for so long that he was losing his ability to see. He didn’t… He didn’t understand. No one had ever said that to him before, no one had ever checked in with him, no one had ever made such an assumption-
Could it even be called an assumption if it was just an observation of the truth?
“Stop. Please,” he begged, voice no more than a whisper because he’d gone and screamed it away. His entire body felt like it was on fire and no matter how much he struggled he couldn’t move away. She wouldn’t listen to him, she wouldn’t stop.
Nails dug into his chest, leaving long scratches across his skin and his voice cracked and died as he tried to cry. The touch was nothing but cruel and possessive, meant to hurt and leave him with a reminder of what she’d done. A message for later carved into his flesh: A reminder that he couldn’t escape. Even after she’d taken what she wanted from him for the night and left him on the floor of his cell alone for the next few days, she’d still be with him. He was never safe, and he was never alone.
His knees hit the ground, pain shooting up his legs and straight to his lower back, but he barely even noticed. Immediately his hands flew to his throat, clawing at his shirt collar and trying to get the suffocating fabric off his skin so he could breathe. Link was faintly aware of his companion backing up with a surprised shout, but he paid the man no mind.
“Stop overreacting,” she growled in his ear, slapping him across the face so hard he stopped crying for a full second out of pure shock. His skin stung where she’d hit him, prickling through the numb sensation that’d swept over his entire body.
He wasn’t sure if he liked how he’d been pulled from his trance, terrifying as losing his awareness of his surroundings had been, he’d rather be unconscious than aware of what was happening to him.
He couldn’t see the floor in front of him, he wasn’t even sure there was a floor. The back of his neck burned and he clasped his hands over it as he ducked his head down to his chest, digging his nails into the skin there in a vain attempt to drag himself back to the present.
“I saw how you were looking at me across the bar,” some man he’d never met grinned, sitting down in the stool next to him. Link barely spared him a glance, the way the stranger’s blue eyes stared at him made him violently uncomfortable and he wanted to get away from them as fast as he could. “What do you say we head somewhere else? You and me, pretty boy?”
For some fucking reason, he didn’t say no. He hadn’t looked at the man at all, he had no idea why the guy thought he had, but he just allowed himself to be dragged away into some situation he’d rather get out of.
Why? Why, why, why, why, why?????? Why did he never say no??
His head spun from lack of air, and when he realized he’d stopped breathing he sucked in a huge gasp of air, causing himself to start choking. Thoughts were racing around his brain, dragging up pieces of memories and scattering them around the voice that kept screaming. The voice he’d been ignoring for the past year. The voice that had been telling him he didn’t want this, he’d never wanted this, and it’d taken some stranger at a bar to get him to realize that.
A cold chill shot down his spine at the reminder that he wasn’t alone, and he blinked hard, trying to get his vision to clear so he could find where the man had gone. He wasn’t safe here, he needed to run, he needed to fight.
“I’ve been watching you,” the sorceress’s voice chilled his soul. “I know everything about you. We’re meant to be together, Link. I love you. Don’t you want me?”
“No,” he choked out, raising his hands to tangle in his messy hair that had come loose from its tie at some point. “No, no, no no no no.”
It was useless. The word meant nothing. There was no point in screaming it, no one ever listened to him when he did.
He was suddenly very aware of a presence next to him, and he shot up with a gasp.
“Hey, hey,” the man murmured, somehow managing to duck out of the way when Link swung an arm in his direction on instinct with a panicked cry. He was too close, he was too close he needed to back up. “I’m not going to touch you, I promise. I promise.”
He couldn’t breathe, his lungs were being crushed by some invisible pressure and it was all he could do to stop himself from pathetically gasping like a fish out of water as he scooted backwards and away from the stranger as much as he physically could. He let out a panicked cry when his back and head hit something hard, and it took him longer than it should’ve to realize it was just the room’s small bed.
Link felt stupid for registering so late that he was able to see again, but now that he could he refused to take his eyes off the stranger. He wanted to leave, he needed to get away, he wanted to disappear from reality completely.
He felt like he was going to throw up.
He flinched hard when the man moved, letting out some pathetic distressed sound when the stranger simply reached a hand into his pocket. He didn’t even take a step towards Link, he stayed exactly where he was, he’d just moved his arm.
“Juice,” the man offered, holding out a flask from his pocket. “It’s just juice. Y- You look- It might help you, you’re looking a little… pale.”
Link clawed at his throat and sucked in a horrid sounding breath as he sat there shaking, staring at his companion with wide, horrified eyes. He couldn’t touch that flask, it wasn’t safe. He was stuck in a room with a complete stranger, and Zelda didn’t even know he’d left the castle. No one knew he was gone, it’d be so easy for this man to kill him and get away with it.
Oh, gods, he’d really gotten himself into a situation hadn’t he?
To his absolute surprise, the man crouched down to his level so he was no longer standing over him, and took a swig of the drink, taking the care to make it clear that he’d actually drunk a decent amount of the liquid.
“See?” He gave Link a small grin after he’d swallowed. “Just juice, I promise.”
“You keep juice in a flask…?” He questioned, the absurdity of the situation shocking him out of his panic momentarily.
He’d surprised himself by speaking, words were usually hard for him when he was shaking this badly, but he was so alarmed by the gesture and the drink offered to him that he felt as if he’d been doused in cold water and woken up from a nightmare.
“I get thirsty,” the man defended himself, holding it out to him again. “I promise it’s just apple juice.”
“Not water…?” Link stared at him, chest still heaving as he fought for air. He was starting to feel aware of how his tailbone ached and how his shoulders hurt where they were pressed firmly into the wooden bed frame. “Y- You keep juice because you’re thirsty…?”
The stranger looked just as confused as he felt, and, if Link was reading his face correctly, a little bit upset. “Is it a crime to enjoy a sweet treat?”
“N- No…?” He gulped, grimacing when he felt the tears that were rolling down his face. “I guess not.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about being so painfully aware of his surroundings while simultaneously feeling like he was floating as a slight fog rolled into his brain. It felt like everything around him had slowed down, his reactions felt delayed, but unlike his usual experience with his thoughts going fuzzy he still felt firmly planted in his own skin.
What the fuck had this stranger done to him?
“Would you like some?” The man offered again, carefully scooting closer. He was making a weird effort to keep his body away from Link, mainly just extending his hand with the flask in it to him.
He hadn’t met anyone but his close friends and family who had ever taken his discomfort into account and made an effort to not corner him, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Nothing had gone according to plan tonight, nothing had followed its usual routine.
He… He’d been forcing himself to come down to the tavern and… He’d been doing this for so long and suddenly one person had noticed what he himself hadn’t been able to. One person, of all the ones he’d spent an evening with, had noticed his disinterest and saved him from another night of misery. For a year he’d forced himself to sleep with strangers because he thought there was something wrong with him that needed to be fixed, and all it’d taken was one man with a flask of fucking apple juice to tell him that he didn’t really want this. And he didn’t. He didn’t want any of this. He didn’t like when people touched him, he didn't like being viewed as just some object to take pleasure from, he didn’t like being in pain. He didn’t want this.
His nights at the tavern were never going to end in a way that was satisfying to him.
Link buried his face in his hands and started laughing hysterically. And within seconds his laughs turned into heavy sobs.
“Do- Would you-” He could barely heard the man stutter over the sound he was making. Link hated himself, he hated himself so much. “Can I… get you…? Anything?”
He wanted to be left alone, he wanted to be left alone for ever and never see another hylian person again in his life, but that was impossible and it’d also be rather unfair of him to kick the man out of the room he'd rented. It wasn’t his fault Link was a fucking idiot, it wasn’t his fault Link had absolutely ruined his night.
Gods, this was humiliating. He couldn’t even stop crying for long enough to apologize.
He’d been shaking so hard for so long that he was starting to feel sick from the way the motion made his vision wobble, so he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get a hold of himself by holding his breath. The only thing that accomplished was making him even dizzier, and he let out a gasping sob when his body finally betrayed him with its need for air and he sucked a huge breath in. The man was trying to talk to him, his voice painfully soft and, Link hated to admit it, a bit soothing, but he couldn’t hear him at all, let alone even attempt to listen. He just cried and shook and cried some more, starting to rock back and forth until he accidentally tipped to the side and fell, where he curled into a ball and continued his losing battle to calm himself.
Link woke up with a headache so intense he feared he might throw up. Waking up in pain wasn’t new to him, after suffering many injuries through years of war and putting himself in stupid situations in the years after, he’d grown used to it. However he was confused by the fact that he only had a headache, not counting the mild ache in his knees because his knees were always aching, and that the rest of him felt… Normal.
He let out a groan, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
What had even happened last night? He was pretty sure he’d gone down to the tavern, and he couldn’t remember leaving so he’d more than likely stayed in the attached inn, but that… That didn’t feel right. Nothing was hurting…
“Are you awake?” A soft voice asked, and it scared Link so badly that he shot straight upright, letting out a cry when his head spun and his vision abandoned him.
Now, waking up in a strange bed with a strange voice he didn’t recognize, was not the time to be losing his vision.
Before he could attempt to scramble away blindly, the sound of footsteps leaving met his ears, seconds before the voice returned. “I’m on the other side of the room, I won’t touch you. I’m not… I won’t hurt you.”
Link frowned, slowly starting to blink the black spots from his vision as he thought to himself how that was even stranger. What in the name of the gods had happened??
It wasn’t until his eyes had decided to work with him again and he looked up and saw the man across the room, saw those honey brown eyes staring at him in concern, that some of the memories of the previous night rushed in. How he’d cried and screamed, mostly, and made an absolute fool of himself.
His face flushed red with embarrassment and he buried his face into his hands with a low groan as all the overwhelming emotions came flooding back in too. He felt sick to his stomach, he wanted to take a bath and scrub his skin off, he felt so humiliated and disgusted with himself.
He… He wasn’t sure how to feel about the stranger standing across the room from him. The man seemed genuine, he seemed… actually worried… But what had he done to him while Link had been sleeping? Surely he hadn’t just left him alone?
Link shifted on the mattress, clearing his throat to speak before he froze. He didn’t remember getting off of the floor last night.
“I slept on the floor,” the man said quickly, holding up his hands innocently. “You- I didn’t touch you, not at all. I promised I wouldn’t and I didn’t.”
“Tell me what happened,” he coughed out, squeezing one of his eyes shut because the low light in the room was making his head hurt but he refused to look away from the stranger for even a second.
“We talked a bit at the bar last night,” the guy told him, “you were flirting with m-”
“Yes, yes,” Link cut him off, “I remember that part. I mean-”
After he’d broken down and humiliated himself because he was too stupid to realize he didn’t enjoy sleeping with strangers. Gods… Did he actually want to know what had happened? Yes, he wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again if he didn’t find out.
“You weren’t looking too good,” the man continued slowly, as if he were scared Link would cut him off again, “and you didn’t answer me when I asked if you were alright so I called it quits, and then you… Well… I gave you your space. I gave you some apple juice to drink, you gave me my flask back…” Ah, yes, he remembered the fucking apple juice flask “and then I offered to help you climb onto the bed and you said no and did it yourself. And then you fell asleep.”
He scanned the man’s face for any hint that he was lying, and found absolutely nothing.
“You didn’t…?” Link wasn’t sure where he was going with his question, and he cut himself off with a groan.
“I gave you your space,” the stranger repeated. “The only reason I’m still here is because I… I wanted to make sure you were alright. It felt wrong just leaving you here.”
“Oh,” he breathed, still trying to process everything that had happened over the past… Six hours? He’d come to the tavern late and it was still early enough that the sun wasn’t up, so he hadn’t been asleep for too long..
“Are you?”
“Sorry?” He asked, nervously running a hand through his long, loose curls.
There was some grumbling from the other side of the room before the man let out a sigh and said something entirely different. “I feel bad for what happened, will you allow me to pay for your breakfast?”
“Sure,” Link answered before he fully comprehended the question, but by the time he had he couldn’t exactly take it back, despite the guilt that bubbled up in him at the idea of inconveniencing this man any further.
“Wonderful,” his companion smiled gently at him before taking a step forward. Link hated himself for flinching at the motion, and only grew more upset when the stranger froze in his tracks before gesturing clearly to the desk. “I’m just going to grab my things, and I’ll wait for you downstairs if that’s alright.”
“That’s fine,” he whispered, forcing himself to relax until the man had left the room and closed the door behind him.
Frustrated tears started rolling down his cheeks as he listened to the stranger walk further and further away. So many questions were burning through him, so many emotions threatened to completely overwhelm him, and he didn’t know what to do. He just wanted to go home, he wanted to curl up in his own bed with his cats and stay there for the rest of the day. He never wanted to see the stranger again, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at him and not feel nauseous with guilt.
He felt so, so incredibly stupid.
And frankly, he should. He’d put himself in a horribly dangerous position, and he’d simply gotten lucky. How many others had pushed through his boundaries or just ignored the way he’d completely zoned out and stopped being able to fend for himself? How many others would’ve taken advantage of him last night and not tried to calm him down and let him take the bed?
How many others would’ve tried to kill him?
Link wasn’t unused to assassins, he wasn’t unused to being followed and stalked, grabbed and pinned to a wall with a knife held to his throat. It wouldn’t have been hard for that stranger to kill him last night, if not while he was sleeping then while he was so out of it. Every time he’d come to this damn tavern he’d put himself in a horridly vulnerable position that did nothing but hurt him, all while telling himself that he was fine and having fun.
Gods, if he had died today he would have deserved it.
That thought kept running around in his mind as he did what he could to freshen himself up before he headed downstairs to find the stranger at a little table, waiting for him.
“You didn’t…” Link mumbled with a small frown as he sat down in the chain across from the man. “You didn’t kill me.”
It wasn’t a question, just an odd observation and a thought he probably should’ve kept to himself, especially when it caused his companion to look so alarmed.
“And what cause should I have to kill you?” The stranger raised an eyebrow at him, pushing a plate of food across the table to him as well as a glass of water. Link stared at it for a moment before grabbing the orange with a trembling hand and beginning to peel it.
“Because after all the trouble I’ve caused and all the good I’ve lacked to do with my life,” he sighed, “I’m starting to think I deserve it. I’ve done… I’ve done horrible things, I’ve caused so much destruction and… and pain, and I haven't done anything to make up for it. Others have tried to kill me before.”
“Well, I have no intention of killing anyone, I am no god who can make such a judgment,” the man laughed gently as he raised an eyebrow in concern, starting to dig into his own small portion. “Besides, killing you would just make me a murderer and then we’d still have the same number of killers up and about, so it’d really be quite pointless.”
“Well then you’d just have to kill another one, too, I suppose,” he muttered out against the rim of his glass before he could stop himself.
His companion burst into bright laughter, and strangely, Link felt some of his anxiety melt away. “Oh, sending me off on quests then?”
Link felt his face flush and he struggled to think fast enough to defend himself. He was usually so good about keeping his mouth shut and thinking before he spoke, but his brain was still rattled from the previous night. “That’s not what I-”
“The war was hell on all of us,” the man said quietly, suddenly a lot more serious. “I’m assuming that’s what you’re referring to?”
“Yeah,” he whispered, staring at the table so he didn’t have to see the stranger's reaction.
“I fought in it too,” his companion told him. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, to save my life and the lives of others, and that’s a weight I carry around with me every day. But there really only are two outcomes in a fight like that, either we kill to survive or we’re the ones who get killed.”
“I’m a monster.” Link’s throat felt dry at his confession, and his eyes started to burn with tears that refused to fall.
“No more than I am.”
Something in the man’s tone caused him to raise his head, and for a split second he saw just how much pain was hidden in the soft honey brown eyes that watched him. He didn’t know what it was the man before him had seen, he didn’t know what he’d done, but one look at him told Link the stranger was just as weighed down by regret and guilt as he was.
It was too early to deconstruct his own opinion of himself more than he already had, and he didn’t want to dump his issues on a man he’d just met, so he cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the topic.
“Alright, how much do I owe you,” Link sighed, blindly reaching for his pocket until his frustration had him looking down to see where his hand kept missing.
The stranger had the audacity to look genuinely confused. “What for?”
“The trouble,” he laughed bitterly, not oblivious to the burn of embarrassment on his cheeks as his brain started replaying his worst moments from the previous night, “if not the food and the bed.”
“You owe nothing.”
“You slept on the floor,” he pointed out, face twisting into a frown as his hand stilled, fingers still buried in his wallet.
The man’s eyebrows raised as he looked at him with an earnest expression and lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Completely by choice.”
“In a room that you paid for.” His frown deepened as his confusion grew.
“That is correct, yes.”
His companion was looking at him like Link was being the crazy one in this situation, which, after last night might be completely fair since he was clearly unwell, but he was sure he was at least being rational now.
“I don’t understand,” he sputtered, blinking quickly as his thoughts raced around his brain, looking for the trick.
“What is there to understand?”
“At least let me pay for half,” Link insisted, hating the feeling of desperation bubbling up in his chest.
“I let you pay for our drinks last night,” the stranger pointed out as if those two things were equivalent, but before he could argue that point with him, a finger was held up, causing Link to pause. “Let me do this one thing for you.”
“You’ve already done quite a lot for me,” he muttered under his breath, but he did lift his hand out of his wallet and cross his arms over his chest.
“I don’t regret it,” the man told him honestly, brushing his brown hair from his eyes. “I’m just sorry for what happened.”
“It was my own fault,” Link sighed, “I-”
“None of that,” his companion shushed him, and he opened his mouth in outrage but was silenced again. “I don’t know your story, I don’t know what you’ve been through and I have no right to know, but I know a trauma response when I see one. Whatever happened to you was not your fault. This,” he waved a finger between them, “was not your fault.”
He felt something in his throat close up, preventing him from speaking, and he wasn’t sure why but he believed the man. Maybe because he was too worn out to argue, maybe because he was just so fucking tired of hating himself, but Link believed him. And a few seconds later when he could force himself to swallow the lump in his throat, he whispered, “Okay.”
The stranger smiled softly at him. It wasn’t the look of pity Link usually got from people who put together what Cia had done to him, it wasn’t the look of disgust others shot him when they’d reached the same conclusion. It was different, it was weird. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, and he wasn’t sure he could stand to be looked at like that for much longer before he broke down crying again.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “You from around here?”
Thankfully the stranger let him change the topic and they fell into an easy conversation as they finished eating, and to his absolute surprise Link found himself beginning to relax. It’d been such a long time since he’d met a new person, even longer since he’d met one he liked, and he found himself getting drawn into what the man was saying. He was very easy to listen to, with his soft voice and the clear passion he held for what he spoke about, and somehow Link found himself joking around with him. Some of that heavy loneliness, that wretched feeling he’d spent a year trying to chase away at the tavern, began to lift the longer he sat and talked with the stranger.
At least until Link’s eye caught a clock on the wall and he realized what time it was, panic gripping him at the idea that he didn’t have much time before he was expected to be at work.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he apologized as he cut his companion off, “but I have to go.”
“Where is it you need to be so early in the morning?” The man asked curiously before his mouth twisted up in a smirk and he teased, “Don’t tell me you have a wife waiting for you at home who’s been missing you all night.”
“Absolutely not,” Link barked out a laugh, and then he rested his cheek on his hand and let out a sigh, “but I do have two darling girls who are probably eagerly awaiting my return so that I can make their breakfast.”
The stranger’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re a father?”
“Yes,” he nodded very seriously, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “Of two precious cats.”
His companion burst into laughter, and Link had to hide his smile in his glass as he finished off his water.
“You almost got me there.” The stranger pointed a finger at him, shaking his head as his laughs died down and his expression softened.
“I’m afraid I’ve just got to freshen up before work,” he told him, answering the guy’s original question before quickly adding, “and I do need to feed my cats.”
“Ah, yes,” the man nodded, taking one last sip from his glass before standing up from the table and grabbing his bag. “Well, since I’d best be off as well, I might as well walk out with you.”
He hummed in acknowledgement, not really sure what to say, and stood up as well, tucking his chair into the table as he followed his companion towards the exit after nodding his thanks to the innkeeper. Link didn’t get very far before he realized he really knew nothing about the man he’d been talking with besides how much he loved his horse and the fact that he was a soldier from the north, and he let his curiosity embolden him to speak.
“I might be mistaken, but I’m not sure you ever mentioned your name,” he pointed out, wrapping his arms around himself as the stranger opened the door and ushered him out before following.
The early morning air was cool against his skin, though with how thick and heavy it felt he was sure the afternoon would be unbearably hot, and he grimaced at the predicted humidity. Now that they were outside and the sun was starting to come up, he could see that he’d been wrong and the stranger’s hair was actually a pretty auburn color.
“It’s Sidney,” the man smiled, before a serious look crossed his face and he gripped the strap of his bag that laid across his chest with a slight frown. “Not Sid, never Sid. My father and brother keep trying to make that a thing and I’m not the biggest fan of it.”
They walked in silence for a few steps before Link dared to ask, “What, no surname?”
“Not one that’s important,” the stranger, Sidney, laughed. “And what are you called?”
His heart skipped a beat. The man hadn’t recognized him as the Hero of Warriors last night, which Link had originally assumed was due to the low lighting and his out of character behavior. But even after talking with him in broad daylight, after Link had gotten a chance to redeem himself by not being an absolute mess, Sidney didn’t recognize him. He didn’t expect anything of him, Sidney didn’t know him.
And after years of pressure being dropped on his shoulders, of people holding him to impossibly high standards, Link found he rather liked that this man wasn’t viewing him as a hero or a captain, but instead just as a person.
Because he was just a person.
“Eleno.”
The name he hadn’t heard out loud since he left home at fifteen slipped out of his mouth before he could really think about it, and he had to fight to keep an alarmed expression off his face.
“What, no surname?” Sidney teased, repeating his words back to him.
He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do so, but he answered. Honestly. “Tailor.”
Link wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that his heart had started anxiously pounding in his chest, and he was so distracted for a moment that he nearly missed his companion’s kind smile before he started talking about how much he missed his dear horse. He could barely get a word out, even if he’d wanted to, because the stranger had an awful lot to say about his prized friend, and Link found he really didn’t mind just listening to him as they walked through the city streets watching shop owners begin to set up for the day.
“Well then, Mr. Tailor,” the man cleared his throat and smiled at him, slowing to a halt as they neared the end of the block, telling Link he must be headed a different direction. “I’m afraid this is where we part. You take care of yourself.”
“You as well, Mr. ‘Not One That’s Important’,” he smirked, accepting the hand that was extended to him and shaking it with a firm grip.
Immediately, Warriors had known something was wrong.
He’d been so, so cold when his body hit the ground after he’d stumbled out of the portal. His fingers were stiff and his toes numb, though the tears on his cheeks felt as though they were scorching the skin they touched. It was difficult to get a full breath, the air felt thick and heavy and left him feeling light headed and weak, and his unexpected contact with the frigid ground was enough of a shock to wipe away his thoughts from just seconds before. His anger left him, his annoyance with his brother forgotten as pure fear unlike anything he’d felt in years took hold and he scrambled to get to his feet as fast as he could.
Standing up was harder than it should’ve been with his whole body shaking and his vision blurring the way it was, but he managed to get upright, stumbling only slightly as he backed himself up against a tree and pulled out a dagger. There was something there. There was something watching him, he could feel eyes from every angle but he couldn’t see a damn thing and nothing around him moved.
The forest remained still.
Warriors sucked in a few shaky breaths, trying to stop himself from hyperventilating. It would do him absolutely no good to break down here, he needed to remain calm so he could deal with whatever threat lurked just out of his sight, and it would be humiliating to be found by the others in such a dishevelled state. He needed to stop being an idiot.
After spending a few moments trying to catch his breath and calm his panicked thoughts, he realized he was still struggling to see because it was so dark, and a thick fog hung around the area of the forest he’d landed in. The trees were so close together and so incredibly tall that their leaves blocked out almost all of the sunlight, making it impossible to get a good idea of what time of day it was, and the inability to see the sun left him with an uneasy feeling deep in his bones.
Warriors didn’t like tight spaces, he didn’t like not being able to see more than twenty feet from him because anything past that was blocked by tree trunks or obscured by fog. He wasn’t safe here, the thrumming of unfamiliar magic in the ground beneath him aside, he was too vulnerable.
The back of his neck started to tingle and he whipped around, holding out his dagger as his other hand shot to the hilt of his sword ready to draw it and fight for his life, but there was nothing behind him. He was met with silence.
A forest should not be silent. Nature was only quiet in the presence of a threat, and the shiver that ran down his spine and the horrible little feeling that welled up in his chest told him that he was not that threat. There was something out there bigger than him, more deadly than him.
‘That’s not a ridiculous thing to fear,’ the rational side of his brain that sounded an awful lot like Zelda told him, and he cursed it for pointing that out, because siding with his irrational terror did nothing but bring the fierce panic rising back up inside him.
His ears flicked as he strained them to listen for signs of the others, but the world around him remained dead silent save for his harried breaths. He wanted so badly to call out for them, just so they would answer and leave him feeling less alone, but doing so would no doubt draw the attention of whatever stalked him and he wasn’t sure he was ready to face that beast on his own.
How pathetic, for the Hero of Warriors to fear a monster.
How many had he defeated over the course of a three year war?? How many had he slain on his current journey??
“I am not a coward,” he hissed to himself, adjusting his grip on his dagger to hold it tighter and more comfortably in his hand. “I am not a fucking coward.”
He lifted his foot to march forward, picking some direction to head in to look for the others, when a whisper rang through the trees and halted him in his path.
‘Eleno…’
His breath caught in his throat and he froze, eyes wide with fear as he listened to the whistling winds, praying he’d somehow misheard. He knew he hadn’t, there was no way he had, but he clung on to the hope that maybe he was just imagining things.
‘Eleno…’
His sword was drawn in seconds and he spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. He could count on one hand the people he wasn’t related to by blood who knew that name, and none of them were here with him. Proxi, Zelda, Impa, and Sidney were home in his era where they should be, blissfully unaware of whatever horrors this forest contained, and Time was…
Time should have been here by now.
Warriors turned back to face the portal with a frown, breathing hard as he fought to control his panic. The purple mass continued to swirl ominously, giving no indication that it was about to close any time soon, and giving no indication that it was about to spit out his brother either.
He wanted to leave, the urge to run burned so strongly in him that it made his entire body itch. He wasn’t safe here, but as upset as he was at Time for accusing him of ignoring him, he couldn’t just leave his brother behind. If he left to search for the others, there was no guarantee he’d be able to find the portal again, and he couldn’t just abandon Time.
Warriors would have to wait for him, and hope whatever demon was watching him, whatever demon that knew his name, would just leave him alone.