Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s over Hyrule…” Time says. “Put down your sword.”

Hyrule shakes violently his head without obeying, his hand clasped on the pommel of his weapon. The air he manages to breathe tastes like rust and his knees wobble under his weight. But he won’t give up and won’t lower his sword.

“Everything is fine.”

No, it’s not fine, not at all, because Hyrule has just seen someone be hit by lightning and this person has just got up as if nothing had happened and now stands in front of him. Hylia, there’s even smoke coming from his armour!

Legend’s body lies on the ground just behind Hyrule. At first, the veteran begged him to run, but his moaning has quieted for a while. The traveller isn’t even sure he’s still breathing but doesn’t dare to look down to check. The only sign his brother is still alive is the faint warmth he feels through the leather of his boot, but even this is starting to fade. The smell of the blood spreading into the air is suffocating.

Time is still in front of Hyrule, his back bent, swaying on his legs, and maybe the lightning did hurt him after all. His face his terrifying, pallid and contorted, covered in cuts abundantly bleeding.

Cuts matching very exactly with his scars, but also with the marks on the weird mask that Time removed a while ago and which lies now on the ground like an empty shell.

Hyrule doesn’t want to think about what it implies.

―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―

Things turned bad. Everything went too fast. For a time the group was progressing within a deep mountainside forest, next second the trees exploded, letting place to hordes of raging foes.

The Heroes fought with courage, but in the end the disadvantage of the terrain and the number of their opponents got the better of them. They ended up cornered, surrounded from every direction by spears, clubs and sharp fangs. That’s when Time took out the mask from his bag.

At first, it looked like it was the solution. The moblins surrounding them were promptly repelled and Time – the eldritch monstrosity wearing Time like a suit, but no one suspected it then – was able to lead them to an overhang where stood the ruins of a small outpost. The most skilled with the bows were able to settle in defensive formation and to put their assailants in flight for good.

Then Time faced them, muttered something about “weak, vain little critters” and everything went bad.

Sky was the first. Time just lifted him and threw him over the precipice. Wild, the fastest of them all, was the quickest to react when the others stood gaping, unable to grasp the situation. Time simply snatched his bow and broke the Champion’s arm like a stick of dead wood, then sent him on the ground with a punch in the ribs.

Warriors and Twilight tried to interpose and were promptly put out of the race, the first by a quick hit of pommel in the head, the second by a tackle strong enough to dismantle his vertebrae. None of them got up.

Wind, for his part, showed an unusual subtlety. Instead of looking for contact, he rather tried to knock Time over with a gust of his Deku Leaf. Time utterly ignored it and ran straight into the sailor – 90 kilos of adult in plate armour against a fourteen-year-old shrimp, it was rather nasty.

Wind would probably have suffered the same fate as Sky if Four hadn’t attempted to attack the Old Man from the rear, his boomerang in his hand. But Time did something to him – Hyrule didn’t see what, Legend was already dragging him away, but there has been like a multicoloured flash – and Four let out a scream as holding his head, then collapsed on the ground, a hand outstretched toward the strange sword always on his back, seemingly unable to achieve the move to draw it.

Hyrule and Legend didn’t go far. Time caught up with them in a couple of strides and Legend got between him and the traveller – dumb, stupid Legend who tells anyone who would listen he doesn’t do feelings and doesn’t care about what can happen to the others. Time’s sword stabbed him to the level of his belly and that… idiot, foolish, falsely selfish moron… still found the strength to crawl on several meters with an open wound in the stomach to take Hyrule away from the danger before collapsing.

And Hyrule stayed facing Time, alone in the middle of his brothers’ broken bodies, unable to force his legs to move, while Time crossed without hurry the last meters between them.

That’s when Hyrule appealed to the lightning.

―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―

“He’s gone.” Time tells him in a strangled voice. “You destabilised him long enough and I’ve been able to take back control and remove the mask. It’s me. It’ll be alright.”

He offers a calming hand to Hyrule, but Hyrule can only see again the moment this same hand broke the Champion’s arm. He screams with terror – and his throat only lets out a long, gloomy wail which startle him. His arms and legs are shaking in an uncontrollable way. The wind is mortally cold, but it’s not the only reason.

Magically induced hypothermia, the last sensible part of his brain recites. The victim can feel the following symptoms: shivers, fatigue, slow cognitives functions or even loss of consciousness. The words turn like a meaningless litany into his mind: magi cally in duced hypother mia-

He must not fall. Because if he falls, nothing will stand between Legend and the man who has just coldly massacred a whole squad. Hyrule tense, refusing to pay attention to the way the world spins at the edges of his field of vision. His hands clasped on his sword shake so much that the metal chimes like a bell. But he won’t let go, he won’t…

Time comes closer. He could almost hug Hyrule by outstretching his arms. Hyrule moans with horror and steps back against Legend’s body, unable to keep his balance, swaying backward dangerously. His sword waves in vain in front of him.

That’s when a hand appears on Time’s shoulder and pushes him aside:

“It’s fine, Time. I’ll take care of it.”

And Warriors comes out, his temple marked by a dark bruise but except this unharmed.

Hyrule nearly faints in relief. Warriors, proud, conceited, ferocious, kind, who always encouraged him when they were on the battlefield. Warriors, who isn’t dead or in a coma after his knock on the head. Hyrule feels tears running along his checks. The sword falls on the ground with a clicking sound.

Warriors catches him into his arms as he almost collapses forward. Hyrule cling on to him as sobbing and shaking with all his body. His legs refuse to support him. Warriors notices it and holds him firmly while Hyrule… cracks. Totally. His sobbing turns into long, strangled wails which knot his stomach and let him breathless. A taste of bile raises in his throat. A flood of tears and snot runs on his face and stains the Captain’s beautiful scarf, but for once Warriors doesn’t seem to mind. He just holds the younger hero against him while passing his hands in his sweaty hair, in long and gentle soothing motions.

“Legend…” Hyrule croaks. “L-L-Leg…”

“It’s alright, Traveller. Breathe.”

But Hyrule can’t, his lungs spasm without inhaling air and only a handful of strangled noises manage to get out of him mouth.

“Legend… Help… Help Legend…”

“Sky’s already on it. Breathe, Rulie.”

Hyrule manages to move his head enough to peer beyond the cocoon of warmth and comfort that constitutes Warriors, and realises that it’s true.

Sky, his sailcloth folded on his shoulder and a clawshot wrapped around his wrist, in on his knees near Legend and is trying to make him drink some potion. The veteran dangles into the Skyloftian’s arms but Hyrule notices the weak swallowing movement of his throat. He’s alive. Alive.

On the other side of the overhang, Twilight stands near Wild, who squeezes his broken arm with a wince. Four and Wind are huddled against each other a few steps away. The sailor holds an empty flask in his shaking hands, as for Four he’s clinging on to his sword like to a lifeline.

Relief washes over Hyrule, who slumps into Warrior’s embrace. Their brothers are fine. For a moment, he thought… at this idea, his shivers redouble and he suddenly feels light-headed. He closes his eyes in the hope he won’t see anymore the landscape spinning around him. Like from far away, he hears Warriors speaking to him and feels he’s put down on the ground, arms still around him. Something smooth and cold touches his lips. A potion? Hyrule recognize the bittersweet smell, but is too confused to react.

“He passed out.” Time’s voice speaks. “You should…”

As he hears him, Hyrule opens his eyes with a cry and jumps backward. Warriors holds him back, positioning himself in order to be between the traveller and Time.

“I’ve said I took care of it, Time. Sit down – before you fall.”

Time, arms dangling at his sides, his face still as pallid as before, steps back a little. He looks lost in the middle of the others who stay away, each of them busy to deal with the wounds he inflicted them. In addition to the cuts on his face, his whole body his covered with burns where the skin has touched the armour. Hyrule has never seen someone this sad.

He lets his head drop on Warriors’ arm and the Captain pats his check with a worried look. This last outburst got the best of him. He has nothing left, nor strength nor magic. His body gives out suddenly and he lets himself drift in the warmth and darkness of the person pressed against him. During a few precious moments, everything disappears.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s under a makeshift shelter between two half-crumbled walls. Someone lay him on his side, a hand under his head, and covered with a long blue cloth. Warrior’s scarf, he realises. More important, Legend lies in front of him, a thick bandage wrapped around his belly. His eyes crack open as Hyrule stirs.

“Hi Traveller.” He whispers.

He has to stop so cough, then continues in a hoarse voice:

“You look like death warmed up, you know?”

Hyrule finds the strength to smile. “Hey, you’re not better.”

“Yeah… The Old man really beat us hollow. Who would have believed he kept in so good shape, right?”

Hyrule giggles, even if it’s not very funny. He tries to lean on his elbow to see if there’s someone with them, but his uncooperative body lies on the ground like a stone. He resolves to bend his neck a little, so he can make out the slouched figures of their companions, seated a few meters away.

Legend lets out a painful groan and Hyrule’s attention immediately turns to him. He would like to help him, but he doesn’t have an ounce of healing magic. The veteran notices it and puts a hand over his eyes.

“It’s ok Rulie, you saw enough horrible things for today. You can rest.”

Relieved, Hyrule closes his eyes again and lets the world continue without him.

Chapter Text

“Alright everyone, let’s take a break!”

Eight exhausted Heroes flop where they’re standing with sighs of relief. Time, as for him, prefers to refrain from doing likewise. He’s not sure he’ll be able to get up again if he sits. Instead, he leans his back against a tree and gazes at the troop slumped in the damp grass.

It’s a miracle that the others keep obeying him and, honestly, Time doesn’t have the feeling he deserve such a favour. But given their state of fatigue, they probably would have obeyed if Ganon himself had decreed it was time to have a break.

They didn’t get the chance to rest since the day before. While they were still busy securing the outpost where they had taken refuge, a portal opened and threw them in the middle of a vast, dark plain strewn with small shrubs. It was night and a nasty little rain kept drizzling continuously. Impossible to recognise the place, or to guess how far the nearest shelter was. They could be everywhere and whenever.

Since then, they have walked.

Sky seems to be the most tired of them all. He usually has a bad stamina, but a day of forced activity in addition to the aftermath of the switch didn’t do him any good. He’s lain on his back, arms and legs spread and his head on his bag, seemingly forgetful of the mud soaking little by little his clothes.

Twilight and Warriors are doing their best to put on a front. On a tacit agreement, they started to pass the group a waterskin and some dried meat. Warriors looks rather at ease with his unexpected role of sergeant, probably because of his past into the military. Twilight, however, seems nervous and downcast, his back hunched in pain and teeth gritted each time he has to move his shoulders.

He keeps a vigilant eye on Wild – and Time can guess why. The Champion looks unusually alert and restless, and Time suspects him to work with the hasty elixirs he always stocks in great amounts into his slate. Wild tends to drink them in excess when he’s in a place he judges to be at risk, which Time can hardly reproach him given the circumstances. Still, he mentally notes to do something about it if it lasts too long. Maybe not confiscate his slate, Wild has the entire life in it, but this thing has perhaps a parental control or something to block access to the cooked food part? Time wishes he were more at ease with Sheika technology, that stuff is not his cup of tea.

Four looks… fine? The portal affected him more than the others and it took him a little longer to recover, but he walked up to now without complaining. Time still finds he has a weird gait, as if he had to think twice before he coordinate his legs to take a step. He’s not stupid, he suspects Four to hide something, probably a secret related to his previous quest – a secret that the god hidden in his mask saw and exploited, but that Time himself can only guess vaguely.

Regarding Wind, the lack of complaints is more worrying. Their youngest has been strangely silent as they walked, without his usual juvenile energy. The rain doesn’t seem to bother him. Wind uses to state loud and clear that as a pirate he could – to quote him – “sleep fully dressed and his butt in the water if needed”, which Time is ready to believe given the snores the young Hero started to let out as soon his head touched the grass.

(However, for having travelled with Wind for months, Time knows he actually needs that someone takes off his shoes and wraps him in a thick blanket, otherwise he will wake up sore and with a cold. A good warm soup would be nice too.)

This lefts Legend and Hyrule. They stuck to each other like glue since the group moved out. Thanks to the potion he drank, Legend’s wound – the wound Time inflected him because he hasn’t been fukin’ able to control himself – is almost healed, but he moves as if he had sand between his joints. This humid weather makes him no good, even if he will rather like having his tongue torn off than admit it.

Hyrule is still pale and exhausted after his invocation. He finally accepted the potion from Warriors, sadly it clearly wasn’t enough: the poor boy kept shaking like a leaf, clinging on to Legend’s tunic, eyes down, as indifferent to the bad weather as to the attempts of his friends to cheer him up.

He may need to drink, preferably something sweet, Time thinks. Oh, of course he’s aware of Hyrule’s fairy form. He grew up surrounded by fairies, he knows how to recognise them. In the same way, he knows how much fairies love sugar, which works like a powerful tonic on them. Time would like to offer Hyrule some of the sugary water he always has at his belt but Yeah, great idea Link, go on, make him know you discovered his secret now he’s terrified of you.

Legend needs hot pads for his joints.

Wild needs to be put in a quiet place and sleep.

Sky…

Time takes his head in his hands, seized by dizziness. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t stay in the background while Warriors does his best to fix Time’s mistakes, no matter how good Warriors is at this. Time should be exemplary, hide his exhaustion, keep his back straight, comfort the others and organize their retreat – because it’s a retreat, there’s no point to deny it. For now, they did nothing but carry on regardless. It can’t least. Someone must take a decision and Time…

Can’t.

Not anymore.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he starts when someone taps his shoulder. His eyes flash open – when did he close them? – and land on Twilight, who stands a little away as if he was afraid that Time hits him – and Time wants to cry at this sight.

“We should go.” Twilight states. “We’re too exposed here.”

“They need to rest.” Time mutters as rubbing his eyes.

“It won’t do them any good to get attacked during their sleep. We can’t set up camp here, we need a safe shelter.”

He’s right. He must be right, but Time is hesitant to add more tiredness on his companions’ backs. Finally, he joins the rancher’s opinion and claps his hands to draw the others’ attention.

“All right everybody, let’s go!”

The troop of exhausted Heroes gives him unsure looks, then Warriors jumps on his feet and shouts out loud:

“Let’s move out, guys! Off we go, we’re gonna find a place to light a fire which won’t be immediately engulfed under all this sludge!”

This time, fortunately, they obey.

The troop sets off again in silence. It’s maybe that, the worse part. No one complains. No one make stupid bets. Usually, the group is a happy mess of laughs, shouts, jeremiads and questionable jokes. Today, no one is in the mood for it.

(Time would have never guessed he would miss having to explain a grown up Heroe that no, he can’t put stones into his mouth, no matter if he finds them pretty, and that the fact his record is “around ten” is off the subject.)

Luckily, about a half-hour later, they come across a marker sign on the side of the road, and Time feels as if he has been stabbed when he recognizes the writing.

Hyrule Castel – 20,5 km

Gerudo Valley – 60,7 km

They’re in the southern part of Hyrule Field. In Time’s dimension. The ranch is not very far, only the rain, the darkness and the worry prevented him from identifying the plain earlier.

“It’s my place!” He exclaims with deep relief.

He gestures to the sign.

“Our ranch is just a few kilometres away from here. We can reach it within an hour of walk, maybe less if we hurry.”

Once again, the others cast expectant glances at Warriors, who’s staring at the sign as if he didn’t dare to believe his eyes. Then Warriors blinks and exclaims too:

“Didn’t you hear him? Let’s go!”

The group gets on his way again, this time with a more energetic pace now they know safety is at the end of the path. Time, on the contrary, becomes aware of a curious phenomenon as they progress. The more they get close of the ranch, the more his armour feels heavy and cumbersome. His feet weight a ton. Little by little, he trails behind as the others keep going. He wishes he could stop a while to catch his breath. Suddenly, he feels like his nickname: old, creaky and tired.

Time walks the last kilometre to his home and his wife though a fog of exhaustion and iced rain. Even the familiar landscape looks unreal, trees and fields melted into a damp blur. Only at the last moment, he realizes he has reached the portal of his property. Actually, if he avoids banging headfirst into the outer wall, it’s only thanks to Warriors, who gives him a shoulder bump as a warning. The Captain stands very close, like to support him – when did he come this close?

“There’s someone.” He comments.

Indeed, light passes through the closed shutters of the living room. Time nods and rings the bell while the others shuffle along in the mud, obviously ill at ease. A part of Time – the part that never stops worrying, caring and overthinking – wonders why they seems so shy even though they already visited the ranch a few times and it always went all right, but he’s too cold and too heavy for that.

The door cracks open almost before the last note fell silent, letting see a figure against the warm light. Malon stands on the doorstep, a bow in her hand, searching through the shadows. From where she is, she probably only makes out a flock of dark shapes. Time gently pushes back Warrior’s supportive arm and steps into the light, hands open as a sign of peace.

“LINK!” Malon shouts.

She immediately drops her bow and runs towards him. Time smiles and crosses with a heavy tread the last meters between him and his wife. She falls on his neck and he hugs her tightly, overwhelm by emotion and relief. Suddenly, the world seems to click into place.

“Hi Honey, I’m home.” He manages while black dots start flying in front of his eyes.

Then he collapses.

Chapter Text

A wave of fear shakes the group when Link falls with his full weight on Malon’s embrace. The Heroes let out a collective cry and hurry to check if he’s fine. They soon realise that Link is… snoring. He just literally fell asleep on his feet, for everyone great relief.

Sadly, it’s impossible to wake him up. The Heroes resolve to haul him away from the rain and to extract him from his armour, which still take them some time despite the number of helpful hands. They offer Malon their help to take him to the bedroom, but Malon is used to handle the ranch alone and has never ned help to put her husband to bed. She lifts Link, who isn’t that heavy now, and takes him to the conjugal room.

He doesn’t open his eyes one single time, even when she buries him under a pile of blankets and wedges his head in place with a pillow. Malon winces as she sees the fresh and terribly familiar cuts on his face. But Link’s breath is deep and steady, so she supposes it will be fine.

This problem, at least, is sorted out for now. She goes back to the living room and faces the Heroes.

“You look terrible.” She tells them. “Come here, I’ll find you dried clothes.”

She pushes everyone to the bathroom’s door – she’s never been so happy she clamoured for a modern, spacious bathroom, with a bathtub and hot running water, rather than just a washbasin like in the others farms – and hands out a pile of clothes she put aside for the occasion. On reflection, she adds a set of towels, the first-aid kit and two extra bars of soap, then lets the group of Heroes alone.

While the bathroom fills up with naked, exhausted and smoky young men, she goes in the kitchen, closes the door and allows herself a time to crack. Head into her arms, she thumps the countertop and curses the fate sticking them, her and her husband. When it’s over, she washes her face with cold water, puts some milk to boil and hurry to the laundry room to get enough blankets for everybody.

―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―

Thirty minutes later, she’s at the table with her interdimensional family and enough apples, cheese, biscuits and hot chocolate for everyone – plus a chamomile for Wild, who looks like he drank too much coffee.

Wind has fallen asleep on her, for once without complaining about being infantilized when she made him sit with her. He’s so tiny he fits easily in her armchair, curled in a ball, his head on Malon’s lap.

“…And when I got on my feet, Time had managed to remove the mask and was himself again.” Warriors ends.

More than the story itself, it’s the calm within the group which is unsettling. Usually, someone should already have tried to extort rubies from the others or start an arm-wrestling contest. Instead, the Heroes look like what they are: a bunch of tired and scared kids trying to comfort younger and scarier kids.

“We couldn’t do anything.” Twilight adds. “Actually, we didn’t notice anything until he turns against us. And even then, we didn’t know what to do. He knocked us out one by one and we didn’t dare to strike back for real, we were afraid that we could hurt him. But it wasn’t ‘im. Looking back, it was obvious.”

“Personally, I knew.” Warrior confesses quietly. “And I couldn’t do anything either. Time used this mask on many occasions during the war… my war, I mean. When Time was little.”

As the others cast him puzzled looks, he precises: “Spacio-temporal shenanigans, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you someday. Time and I fought side by side in my army for a few months and he… he used this mask too much. Each time, the toll was heavier than before.”

He stops and gives Malon an imploring look.

“Mistress Malon, did Time?... After all this, did he…”

Malon gets what is worrying him and shakes her head with an ambiguous gesture of her hand.

“I’ve just seen him use his mask two times since we meet.” She answers. “The first, when the dam upstream almost broke and we needed brute strength to prevent it, the second when cow thieves tried to sack the ranch. It was terrifying. After that, Time wanted to throw the mask into a volcano. He promised himself he would never wear it again.”

“I’ve been into a volcano!” Wild chirps with a high-pitched voice. “Not funny at all.”

“Steady, Champ.” Twilight says as pulling Wild’s head on his shoulder.

His nose buried into Twilight’s pelt, the younger Hero lets out a faint, shaky laugh, but stays docilely how he’s been placed. His hands wriggle nervously on the table. Malon, as for her, can’t help but noticing the dark bruises on the rancher’s collar bones, as if someone had violently grabbed him here. She shivers as it occurs to her that the length of the marks would match with her husband’s hands if she dared comparing.

Malon is a good girl. She’s been raised in the respect of the goddesses. But for now, she thinks very hard of allowing herself a new visit to the chapel of the village to tell Hylia some home truths. Goddess or not, what she makes his favourites suffers is inhuman.

“You’ve met a terrible fate.” She pronounces gently. “I’m deeply sorry you had to face that. None of you deserved it. You all did your best.”

The Heroes manages to look even more pitiful and sheepish. Malon wonders why, until Four clears his throat and speaks:

“We weren’t sure we were doing well, bringing him here.”

Of them all, he seems the healthiest – except for his left eye who looks at the opposite of the right and has a slightly different tint. The shirt borrowed from Time is too big for him and he had to knot the collar twice to prevent it sliding from his shoulders.

He continues: “We suspected there was a story with the mask. We were worried we would put him in a complicated situation. That maybe it was a secret he’d hidden from you, or maybe he wanted to spare you. You always welcomed us with kindness, we didn’t want to bring you misfortune.”

Just now, Malon is so surprised she stays speechless. Do these boys really think… It’s almost hurtful. But of course they imagined she would get angry. They’re the spitting image of Link and they all work according to the same model.

But, as she’s about to answer, something unexpected happens.

Hyrule bursts into tears.

It’s so quiet and so sudden that Malon only notices when she sees the young Hero’s shoulders start shaking. Heavy tears flow from his eyes. The poor guy looks like he wants to disappear from the surface of the world. He hides his faces into his hands while Legend pats him clumsily in the back.

“Hyrule is a little tired.” Sky explains with the tone the Heroes generally use to describe someone who needs a month of vacation and psychological help.

Malon jumps on her feet.

“The guest room is ready, let’s…” She starts.

Legend cuts her off: “I’m on it.”

With a very determined look, he stands too, puts a protective arm around Hyrule’s shoulders and drags him to the guest room. Malon sits back reluctantly. Despite her desire to help, she feels that Hyrule needs to be alone with one of his siblings. And she has a point to make clear.

“I’m not mad.” She tells them slowly as looking at each anxious face. “Listen to me, you all: I’m not mad, not at any of you. You brought me back my husband. He and me, we’re aware this mask can be a point of no return. We know the risks. I know Link may at any moment never come back and, thanks to you, it didn’t happen today.”

Twilight writhes nervously. “It may have… We went really close to the catastrophe. I’m afraid someday he… someday he may…”

He looks so miserable that Malon has to restrain herself leap from her place and to hug him savagely.

“Link has many foes,” She admits “and all aren’t monsters in the flesh. I love my husband and I know him down to the depths of his heart, including his darkest secrets. I know he has the luck to be accompanied in his battles by courageous young people that make him extremely proud. And these young people did a wonderful job at keeping him safe, even if they seem to think otherwise. I know he can count on you. I’m just deeply sorry you had to live this ordeal.”

“You trust us so much, Mistress Malon…” Twilight stumbles, not looking more convinced than before.

Malon brushes away the objection with her hand. She may only be an ignorant farmer, but the Hero’s way has little secrets for her. She knows that if Link resorted to the Fierce Deity’s mask, it’s because he didn’t have choice. And she’s able to differentiate her beloved from a bloodthirsty war god, thanks a bunch.

If she’s mad at someone – for who knows what, having beaten these poor boys or used her husband as a puppet – it’s at the eldritch forces who decided to fight by interposed armies taking her family hostage.

In the meantime, Legend has come back and simply sat at his place, face gloomy and unusually quiet. Malon notices the bags under his eyes and the way he winces when he moves, and decides she has seen enough of it.

“You’re all tired.” She decrees. “Don’t worry about this for now. My home’s yours for as long as the goddesses will allow you to stay. Now, come with me, I’ve spare pillows and mattress in the attic. Let’s find room for everyone.”

Chapter Text

About a half-hour later, mattresses have been brought from the attic and the beds are ready. Malon places as gently as possible Wind in the big bed of the guest room, in which Hyrule is already sleeping. The sailor barely opens his eyes to curl up against his brother before falling asleep again.

Malon checks one last time if everyone is all right, then tells them good night and blows the candles. As she returns to her own room, a hand taps her shoulder. She turns to see Legend standing in front of her.

“You should be in your bed, dear.” She tells him.

Legend lets out an indecipherable mutter and shifts his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Malon takes a time to look at him with more attention.

Since she knows Legend, she often saw him teasing, snide, boastful, sometimes even provoking. She’s aware it’s his way to express affection to the others, and she loves him as he is. On some rare occasions, she saw him sad, angry or frightened, when he allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of her. Given the current circumstances, she wouldn’t be surprised if he felt as anguished as the other Heroes.

But no, Legend isn’t anguished. He’s embarrassed.

“You’ve something to tell me.” She offers kindly.

Legend nods without looking her in the eyes.

“Yeah…” He admits. “I have… I’ve a favour to ask you. Mistress Malon, while we’ll stay here, could you make sure Rulie feels alright? He had a rough time.”

Legend puts his hat off and fiddle nervously with the seam.

“Rulie’s a good guy.” He continues. “He’s the one who managed to bring back Time by invoking lightning on him, I was already out at the time and he stood alone in front of him… I think it has quite shaken him. Especially as he really likes Time usually. I… I think he needs to speak to someone, except I don’t do feelings. And you’ve always been so kind with us…”

Once more, Malon has to force herself not to jump on her interlocutor and hug him with all her strength. Carefully, she puts her hand on Legend’s shoulder, hoping it won’t scare him away.

(she also tries her best not to think of the mental images brought by the words “Time” and “lightning” put together.)

“The others told me that you and him have been the last to fall.” She remembers. Must have been hard for both of you.”

Legend builds a mocking expression on his face, but Malon still catches a flash of distress in his look.

“Oh, I’m fine.” He affirms. “When things turned too bad, I was already running away. Four campaigns under my belt, I know how to recognize a losing battle, and bad luck for the others if they don’t! I just happened to get a nasty hit while I was fleeing for my life.”

“And hauling your friend away from the danger.”

Legend manages to just look unsettled for a second before he gets a grip on himself and answers, in a falsely sneering voice:

“Pure survival strategy. Got the healer with me, just in case. And it worked, hey!”

Something in Malon’s face must betray her thoughts, because the young Hero gives her a suspicious glance. Arms folded, he leans against the partition and keeps going in a too fast voice:

“Make no mistake about it. I’m fine, got it? First, I’ve always had trouble to trust people. I travelled around a lot, I know how they are. Don’t like to grow attached, see, I’ve… fallen into it yet, here’s the thing. So, I was more or less expecting something like this sooner or later. I mean, Time’s always been legit, so did the others, but it’s just something that… happens. So, actually it doesn’t affect me.”

He shrugs, his head carefully turned in order that Malon can’t see really his face.

“I’m here for the job, okay? I don’t do feelings. So, there’s zero reason I could feel, I dunno what you’re thinking, betrayed, or scared after I saw my leader turn into an evil deity and massacre my teammates in front of my eyes. Or something like this.”

“Of course.” Malon concedes with a smile.

She gives him a flick on the chin.

“And even if you were feeling, like, a little betrayed or a little scared, it wouldn’t be worth dwelling on it, isn’t it? It’d be a totally normal reaction. No need to make a fuss. Now, go to bed. Days start early at the farm. I promise you I’ll take care of Rulie.”

Legend finally complies, not without a last grateful look. Malon waits to be sure he has really got into bed before heading to her own room. Nayru, she’s exhausted. She cherishes each moment spent with her family, but all these emotions are nerve-wracking.

Link is still sound asleep when she joins him in the marriage bed. She curls against him and he groans meaningless words in his sleep without waking up. Before blowing the candle, she allows herself a time to look at him, leaning on her elbow.

Her husband seems peaceful despite the terrible marks on his face. He has won more wrinkles since the last time she saw him. There’s a new scar on his chin, something she could mistake for a razor cut if she didn’t know better.

She runs a hand into his hair, half-waiting to find grey strands. Well, he’s not that old, even with all those damn time shenanigans he went through, however life seems to have aged him prematurely. Worry, maybe, Malon thinks. She doesn’t always know what he’s facing in his daily life on the roads, but it may hardly be restful. Anyway, what Link tells her when he goes home is likely to make anyone turn grey.

What a mess, she thinks as blowing the candle.

Chapter Text

Hyrule is in a cave.

Well, not exactly. Physically, Hyrule is sitting under the porch at the back of Malon and Time’s house, during a nice summer night, surrounded by the perfume of the rainy countryside and the geraniums in pots placed along the façade.

Mentally, this said…

His kingdom is not like the others. The others have things they call “cities” and where you find people, hundreds of people, places called “schools” or “museums”, huge markets full of fresh food and other incredible stuff – like the bombchu and the archery stand that Wind and Wild made him try as soon they arrived in town.

At Hyrule’s place, a city it’s a few dozens of people who agreed, for a time, to live together in the same series of caves around a meagre common resource, for instance a clean water spring or a coast particularly teeming with fish. Rivers and lakes are usually full of poison, there’re swamps everywhere and monsters behind each bush.

For a long time, Hyrule felt ashamed of his world. Before he met the others, he hadn’t paid attention. It was normal to spend a few days without eating. To move regularly. To avoid bad encounters. To take care of his rare belongings and get by on his own.

The first time he visited the ranch, he was still new in the group. He thought he was dreaming. Everyone was so kind. He could eat his fill, the most delicious food he ever tasted. He didn’t need to sleep with one eye open in case someone tried to attack him during the night. Air didn’t smell ashes, but flowers and cut grass. He had felt like a newborn, both disconcerted and marvelled at the new world he discovered.

Today, he still feels as if he was dreaming, but without the wonderment. It’s like he’s disconnected from his surroundings. The crickets’ song, the flowerpots and the green grass are very pretty, but it’s just the surface. If you scrub a little, you find the cave again. He’s never left his home. He’s still in danger.

He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t feel safe anymore, even here. It’s stupid. It’s not the first time he has a close brush with death. Nor he loses a battle. Usually, he manages to put aside his insecurity when the danger is gone. There’s no reason it goes otherwise now.

But it lingers.

“Hyrule?…”

He starts so hard he almost knock against the mount of the canopy roof. Malon stands in the doorframe, holding a candle and hair dishevelled. He didn’t hear her.

His first reflex is to run for his life. He resists, overwhelmed by a mix of shame and guilt. So, it wasn’t enough to dash off from the table, he also has to have the rudeness to avoid Malon under her own roof?

“I-I woke you up...” He apologizes, blushing furiously.

A sad smile appears on Malon’s face.

“Not at all, don’t worry!” She hurries to answer. “I was already awake and I saw you through the window of the bedroom. Mind if I sit with you?”

Hyrule mercilessly stifles the panic rising in his chest and shakes his head. Another person. Seated just near him. Close enough to touch him. All right. All right, he faced Ganon’s legions, this shouldn’t be too hard by comparison. He can do it.

Malon sits beside him, seemingly without noticing his distress. For a time, she stays silent, her eyes lost in the night. Her hands are simply resting on her lap. Hyule casts them suspicious glances. He can’t help it, he has the feeling he’ll drop dead if she tries to catch or hit him. The fact that Malon has never tried any of those things doesn’t matter.

“Bad dreams?” She suggests after a while.

Small talk. He can do small talk, too. He just has to remember how to use his brain. He hugs his knees to stop them from shaking.

“Wind was snoring and I couldn’t sleep anymore.” He lies.

Here. This sounds like a better explanation than “I awoke with a start and didn’t know where I was and had to move because I felt as if I was about to suffocate, but didn’t have the strength to go farther then the porch so I sat here.” And the sailor was snoring for real.

Malon nods thoughtfully. Hard to tell if she believes him or not. One of her hands moves and Hyrule tenses, heart pounding. Immediately, Malon freezes.

Hyrule holds his breath, failing to guess what will happen next. Then Malon declares with a light-hearted voice:

“I would fancy an apple, do you want one? There’s a basket just here.”

Hyrule blushes even more. He ate nothing of the snack that Malon made them. At the time, he felt too tired and had the stomach too knotted to take anything. In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t a good idea, especially after he spurned the rations offered by Warriors the day prior.

…Upon reflection, that’s probably why he feels so weak and anxious.

He nods and Malon reaches for one of the baskets stocked under the porch. She offers Hyrule two apples and keeps one for herself. Her moves are slow and precise, and Hyrule guesses it’s for his sake. He should feel embarrassed, instead he’s deeply grateful for it.

The apples are juicy and infused with sun and the aura of the fairies populating the orchard. Hyrule eats slowly, enjoying the fresh and sugary feeling on his dry throat. It helps, a little. Bit by bit, he manages to relax enough to rest his feet in the wet grass and loosen his back.

He quickly finishes the first apple and make hastily disappear the other one into his pocket. Then, on second thoughts, he hides also the core where some flesh is remaining. Malon seems to notice his little game and Hyrule blushes again. Inwardly, he curses his bad manners toward food. He managed to stop those nasty habits, but it tends to come back when he’s stressed.

“That’s… that’s for later.” He tries to justify. “I mean… I’m not afraid that I would starve here or outside, no. It’s just…”

Bloody hell, can’t he hold five minutes without making her think that he’s afraid she could famish them during their visit or that his companions are so badly prepared they don’t take provisions when they travel?

“It’s a habit I got into in my place.” He confesses. “My world’s low in resources and they’re jealously guarded. There’s not much food.”

“And not many friends to share it, I guess.”

She said it in an infinitely soft voice, but dread twists Hyrule’s stomach. His breath gets stuck into his throat. It’s certainly an innuendo. For now, he can’t see another explanation, she wants to get him to understand he only has a few friends and she isn’t – not anymore – one of them.

He won’t be able to bear that. He can’t afford to lose someone else, not Malon, who has always been so kind with him, who welcomed him into her home as if he was part of her family, as if he had a place somewhere…

“I-I-I’m so sorry!” He stammers. “You trusted us to take care of you husband and I betrayed you…”

“What? Course not, hon!”

Hyrule shakes his head. He wants her to know the truth.

“The others probably told you what happened. They tried to stop T-T-Time without hurting him as soon as they realised something was wrong and I… I didn’t do anything, I stayed frozen like an idiot until I had the worse idea ever in the end…”

A shiver runs along his spine at the memory of the last moments of the battle.

“It’s Legend who had to save me, without him I’d probably stood idly by until Time… He stabbed Legend in his belly and Legend kept…”

There’s something stuck into his throat. He breathes air, but his lungs don’t fill, no matter how hard he tries. His heart pounds into his ears. He can barely hear Malon’s voice as she speaks, leaning over him with a worried look:

“Hey, hon, it’s all right. You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard.”

Her hands hover near his shoulders without touching him, and Hyrule curls in a ball with horror. Suddenly, it’s too much for him. Malon is so close she could catch him if she wanted, he can’t breathe, his body still suffers of the after-effects of the thunder spell and he just has enough magic for one last thing, that feels like the only possible way out of the situation.

He turns into a fairy and flies away for dear life.

He just forgot the mount of the canopy.

His head hits with full force the wood and the impact stops him death. His wings freeze under the pain and the surprise. Half-knocked out, he falls like a stone and lands into an empty flowerpot. The fall itself doesn’t hurt very much, in the same way an ant doesn’t get injured by falling from several times its height, but Hyrule still feels his wings crumple under his weight and let out a cry of shock.

For a heartbeat, the pot sways as if it will roll on the side, then stops upright with a very stuck and very mortified fairy inside.

Chapter Text

Stuck at the bottom of his pot, Hyrule curls in a tight ball, wishing the earth could open under his feet and swallow him so he won’t never ever have to deal with what just happened. Tears run along his face, fat fairy tears too big for his eyes. Red with shame, he presses his hands on his eyes in the hope of stopping them.

“Hyrule?”

He removes his hands from his eyes with a start. Malon’s face, now gigantic, is staring at him over the pot’s edge. His shame soars even more, quickly replaced with a flash of panic. She saw him. She knows his secret. She’ll wake the others and tell them, and everyone will know how untruthful and secretive he is, and they’ll want to know what other things he’s still hiding...

“Oh, sweetie!… Wait, I’m gonna get you out of here."

Suddenly, Malon’s hand is just beside him. On instinct, he flattens himself against the inside of the pot, as far as possible. His fingers search frantically on the rough, vertical surface without finding any grip. His crumpled wings are like dead weights tied to his back. He’s stuck, entrapped, pinned down-

“Please. I won’t cause you any harm, I promise.”

At the cost of a huge effort of will, Hyrule goes away from the edge and crawls on his knees to the offered hand, and Malon lifts him out of his prison.

There’s something entirely different between moving by yourself in the air and being moved in the air, especially by hands as big as you. Malon doesn’t hold him very tight and moves very slowly, but it doesn’t matter. Hyrule feels his body petrify out of fear. His lungs already over-solicited freeze, depriving him of the meagre trickle of air he still managed to breathe in. He collapses, only held by Malon’s fingers, black dots flying in front of his eyes, his face still soaked in tears and mouth gapping in vain.

“Oh crap!” Malon lets out in a sheepish voice. “Wait, I put you down right now, I’m sorry…”

A second later, Hyrule lies on something soft and warm he identifies afterwards as a knee covered of a flap of nightshirt. Malon’s hands are not anymore tight around him but just in support against his back, to help him to stay on his side without sliding. It presses a bit against his wings but less than if he was on his back and, like this, he's finally able to breathe some air in.

“I’m terribly sorry!” Malon apologises. “Did I hurt you? Do you want me to bring back one of the boys?”

Hyrule shakes frantically his head, moaning and his hands pressed against his face. It’s already enough he had a panic attack in front of the person he wanted to apologise to and he accidentally revealed one of his dearest secrets, he can’t think of something he could wish less than having an extra audience.

Malon doesn’t insist. She lets him hide his face into the folds of her nightshirt as he struggle to catch his breath. After a while, he feels something running through his hair, gently, like Warrior’s hands earlier, and focuses on it. Breathe. Keep breathing. His contracted muscles loosens slowly. Keep breathing.

The farmer keeps rubbing her thumb back and forth against sprite’s head as humming a wordless melody. The tune raises a half-buried memory in Hyrule’s mind, which reminds him these moments he wakes up at night among the sleeping Heroes and spots Time sitting by the fire, keeping watch while playing his old ocarina. Peaceful moments, when he had the feeling that nothing wrong could happen, when everything was warm and comfy.

After a while, Hyrule manages to get back control and sits with a shaky sigh. Malon lets him move and puts her hands around him, without touching him, just to prevent him to fall from her lap. Hyrule looks at her, red with shame he cracked in front of her, and she gives him a gentle smile.

“Better?” she asks.

He allows himself a small nod. It’s been long since the last time he broke down like this, at least with the exception of the backlash of the battle of two days ago. Two occurrences in less of 48 hours, he’s starting to question his ability to stand.

“And your head?” Malon insists. “Took a nasty hit… Are your wings fine, too?”

Hyrule touches carefully his head and discovers a bump… about the size of a chickpea. Well, at his scale, it’s probably a rather big bump. His wings, as for them, are twisted and crumpled like the ones of a butterfly just out of its chrysalis.

“I’m fine.” He affirms with more self-confidence he feels. “When I’m in this body, my natural magic heals my wounds automatically. It can take some time, but here it’s not a big deal, so I think it’s gonna be quick.”

Malon lets out a relieved sigh. She runs her hand on her forehead in a tired way. Her eyes examine Hyrule with curiosity and a hint of disbelief. Honestly, he finds she takes the whole thing rather well. As for him, he could give himself clouts if he wasn’t afraid to look even more ridiculous.

“Soooo… you’re an Hylian disguised as a fairy… or a fairy disguised as an Hylian?” Malon ends up questioning, now she’s apparently reassured about his physical health.

Embarrassed, Hyrule makes a so-so gesture.

“A bit of each?” he suggests. “I use a spell to transform myself, but my sisters and mothers told me I had maybe some fairy blood in me to begin with. Hem, that’s how I call the fairies from my area, because they more or less raised me…”

Wrong direction, wrong direction, stop. Malon’s face twists in worry and Hyrule ducks his head in his shoulders, aware he’s wandering into a perilous topic.

“But it’s all right!” he hurries to add. “According my Zeldas, that’s why I have great facility for magic. It’s very useful to support the group.”

As he pronounces these words, the vision of Time’s body hit by lightning flashes in front of his eyes. His stomach knots in remorse and apprehension. Some iced sweat prickles the back of his neck. He wipes it nervously, eyes down, doing his best to keep control of his breathing which threatens to go wrong again.

“Are you fine, like this?” Malon asks after a hesitation.

Hyrule shakes his head negatively.

“Not really…” He admits. “My wings hurt and I’m a little cold. It’s weird to be on the ground in this form.”

A fairy on the ground is a fairy who won’t make old bones. Intellectually, he knows he’s safe, but his instinct screams he’s about to be caught by a fox or crushed by a monster. It makes him nervous.

“Right. How do we turn you back into an Hylian?”

“Oh, I just have to…”

He stops. A wave of panic rises from his belly.

“Is there a problem, hon?” Malon worries as she notices his look – and Hyrule feels so stupid.

“No… non, it’s fine but… Actually, I can’t change back. I don’t have enough magic and what I still have is already used to heal my wings. Without it, I can’t use the counter spell.

“Oh.”

Hyrule hides his face into his hands. Why can’t he do anything correctly? It really wasn’t necessary to panic and turn into a fairy, all this to knock himself out against the first pole he saw.

“But I’ve already seen Li… Time use potions to get some magic back.” Malon offers. “Maybe you have that in your bags? I can fetch one for you if you want.”

“Wars gave me the last one yesterday.” Hyrule laments. “There must be the stock Wild keeps into his slate, but…”

On a tacit agreement, the fairy and the farmer brush off the idea of waking Wild to ask him to search among his elixirs.

“Anyway, the others don’t know about me.” Hyrule adds. “They’d ask questions if we demand a magic potion in the middle of the night.”

“What can we do, then? Give you sugar, or heal your wings?”

“I’ve already had apples…”

With a shy smile, Hyrule takes the second apple out of his pocket. It’s now the size of a grape pip. Malon muffles a nervous laugh.

“But we could look for a source of natural magic to speed up the healing of my wings. Not necessarily a big fairy’s spring, any place with good energies would do, for example a tumulus or a maypole… Or else, I can just wait. The magic will work on its own. I’ll probably be good as new in the morning and I’ll have enough reserve to change back.”

“Except you won’t be able to go back in your bed until them…”

Hyrule feels a pang of sadness as he thinks of the comfy bed he left to sit in the cold. There was a patchwork blanket and an eiderdown filled with feathers… But the others can’t find a fairy lain at his place. He lets out a groan of frustration. Malon pats his shoulder with commiseration with the tip of her fingers.

“If you’re stuck here for a while, would you tell me what get you in such a state just now?” She suggests.

Embarrassed, Hyrule hugs his knees. He owes her an explanation, even if at this very minute his dearest wish would be to erase the previous half-hour.

“I just wanted to apologise about what happened with Time. And about my behaviour since we arrived. I… I haven’t been…”

He bites his tongue and takes a deep breath. If he starts like this, he will never be able to make his apologises. Hylia, he’s such a brave Hero, terrified to have a mere conversation.

“I harmed Time. I hit him by appealing to lightning on him and it was… Hylia, it was awful. The worse thing to do. I could hear him. With my magic, I could hear him calling for help from the other side of the mask and begging the other to stop, and I hit him with my lightning spell. I hurt him.”

His throat tightens again. His hands start shaking. He hides him head between his arms and forces himself to continue.

“I’m supposed to heal people, not harm them!… That’s my role, that’s what I’ve been taught, that’s why the others count on me… even if I’m not the strongest, or the cleverest, I’ve this at least. And it’s… it’s bad to use magic as I did, but I was so scared!…”

He had to stop to catch his breath and, into the following silence, he hears Malon take a shaky inspiration. And suddenly, he’s pressed against her stomach, gently held by her hands, and this time it’s not scary or oppressive. He could break the hug if he wanted, but he’s too tired, too sad and too guilty to bring himself to do so.

Malon’s voice shakes slightly as she says quietly:

“You did well, sweetie. It’s thanks to you that Link was able to come back. I could never, ever be mad at you for that, and I’m sure my husband will tell you the same in the morning. You’ve been brave. It’s over now. You’re safe. It’s all right.”

And Hyrule believes her. For the first time since the battle, he feels more or less safe. The anguish tormented his mind isn’t gone and he’d be surprised it vanishes before a few weeks, but the weight oppressing his chest and the feeling of latent menace have disappeared. Instead, he feels a sensation of relief and emptiness. Exhausted, he let s himself slump against Malon and afford, at least for a time, to not be scared.

“The priest will so much banish me from the chapel next time…” He thinks he hears the farmer whisper under her breath.

He moves a little aside to give her a puzzled look through the tears blurring his sight.

“Sorry?” He mumbles.

Malon shakes her head with a smile, even if her eyes shine a bit too.

“Nothing, I was just thinking aloud. Actually… I’ve maybe an idea to get you back to your normal shape. I know a place that could fit, would you go with me?”

Quite surprised but hopeful, Hyrule nods with enthusiasm.

Chapter Text

Sitting alone on a bench by the fountain of the orchard, wrapped in a blanket with patterns of pink cuccos, Time plays ocarina as taping his foot in rhythm.

He isn’t playing the song of Healing, nor the song of Time, not even one of the shepherd songs he happened to hear when he was leading his cows to graze, only a series of light notes that float freely in the clear night. It stopped raining a while ago. Fairies flutter around in the moonglade, probably attracted by the music and the sugar cubes he always makes sure to let near the water for them.

He misses always the same.

Time is… not exactly serene. Actually, it’d be truer to say he has reached this emotional state of grace one’s feels when he sees a tidal wave coming and observes that the heights are definitively out of range. In a way, the worst has occurred yet and now it’s just time for the fallout, which removes a matter of concern. It’s surprising how everything becomes clear when you reach the bottom of the despair.

Now his mind isn’t any more distracted by essential topics like exhaustion, find a shelter or escape the monsters, he has ample opportunity to think of how much he screwed up. That’s why he decided to walk to the fountain when he woke up. It’s the ideal place to contemplate his failure and think of all he didn’t accomplish during his life, and it’s far enough from the house so no one will come to disturb him before he has totally finished to scrape the bottom.

He's a little surprised to hear footsteps coming closer, then Warriors appears between the apple trees.

(Warriors really tried to sleep. He had chosen the couch thinking it would be quieter than the crowded room, so much so that he heard all Legend’s confession. When he finally managed to doze a little despite Wind’s snoring and Wild who was trying to explain to Twilight that water was actually dry, he got woken up with a start by Hyrule staggering to the back door. Then Time went out too, this time through the front door. A few minutes later, it was Malon who got up and Warriors thought he was screwed anyway, so he may as well get things straight.)

“Good evening, Captain.” Time greets him quietly.

“Good evening, Sprite.” Warriors answers in the same way. “Lovely night, isn’t it? Do you mind if I keep you company?”

With a thin smile, Time puts the ocarina aside and lets him some place.

“Not at all, please do.”

Warriors sits near him.

“So, how are you?” He asks politely. “You scared us when you fell without warning like this. Twilight nearly had a heart attack.”

Time shrugs. “Quite well. Tired. Everything aches. I’ll probably have trouble walking for a few days. For once, you’ll have a good reason to call me “old man”.”

Warriors gives him a saddened glance.

“Hyrule’s spell?...” He enquires.

Time shakes his head.

“It’s never pleasant to be hit by lightning, but actually there’re not many things able to hurt me when I’m wearing this mask. Except the mask itself, of course. The transformation is rough for the body. It’s… Hylian body is not made to channel so much power during a so long time. The lightning has just burnt me a little.”

“I see…” Warriors whispers as gazing at something to the trees.

He lets a silence pass and crosses his legs in a relaxed stance, seemingly content to enjoy the fresh air of the orchard. Time raises his head and gazes at the stars shining between the clouds. He didn’t expect company, but he doesn’t mind. On the contrary, it takes a thorn out if his side by removing the possibility of fleeing. Sooner or later, he must take responsibility for his acts. Good if he doesn’t have to wait for the morning for that. He’d been afraid that he would lose his determination and chicken out.

He clears his throat and speaks:

“You’ve been perfect yesterday, Warriors. When I failed you all, you’ve been able to show self-control and sharp mindedness. And not only that, you also managed to give the others the strength to keep going. That’s what a true leader does. All I didn’t… What?”

While he was speaking, Warriors rolled his eyes.

“Sprite…” He starts in an exasperated voice.

“Let me finish, please. I thought about it a lot. When we formed this group, you all accepted me as a leader as if it was self-evident. I asked nothing, but I tried my best to fulfil my duties. Now, it’s clear that I failed.”

“You’re a good leader, Time.”

“I’m a danger. I’ve got too many secrets I’ve never agreed to share. I overestimated my ability to keep control. You’ve already seen me using the Fierce Deity Mask when I was younger. It was different. Less painful, less demanding. It gave me the strength to defeat my foes and, little by little, I started to consider that strength as mine. It’s easier to give up control when I had nothing to lose, but it changed. I grew old. I softened. I also found things I held dear. Malon. Our ranch. Basic happiness of a simpler life. And over time, the other changed too. He became… greedy.”

Time shoots into a small stone, which falls in the fountain with a faint “splash”. Ripples make the moonlight twinkle.

He continues: “That’s my burden. Or anyway, I’ve been the one who have been chosen to take the responsibility. I can’t discard the mask as I wanted to ten years ago, because someone may find it and make bad use of it. I can’t destroy it – I tried, I suspect it’s physically impossible. But I can’t keep it either, now I failed to fulfil my duty as a guardian.”

He searches in the folds of his patterned blanket and hands Warriors a rounded package.

“It’s for you. You’re everything I’m not – a good soldier, a good captain, a good person. You know how to keep your head cool during a battle. You won’t get fooled by the temptation of power at all costs. Take it, please.”

Warriors doesn’t make a move. Unfazed, he stares at the mask silently. Then, to Time’s great surprise, he bursts into laughter.

“I’m serious!” Time insists undeterred. “I caused harm to our companions. I’ve been unable to control myself and… Wars, it’ll happen again. I’m very serious. I don’t want to inflict that to anyone ever again.”

“I won’t touch that thing.” Warriors answers as wiping his eyes.

The corners of his mouth twitch slightly when he continues:

“Sprite, did you really think about it? You’ll give me, the Hero of Warriors, the mask of a bloodthirsty war god? Old chap, if you do that, we’re just going to have a Fierce Deity with the most gorgeous hair ever within a month.”

Time’s determination wavers. His hands start shaking. His voice breaks.

“Captain… I… I can’t keep going.”

Warriors puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know, Time. I know how wearing this mask affects you. I always thought you were wrong to use it so much at the time and you know I much I like to hear I’m right. But I can’t wear it. However, I can carry you if you fall, and I always will. Then, now, or tomorrow. I’ll always be here for you.”

Time’s throat is so tight that the words strangle as they go out. He curses his failing voice. He’s losing control of the situation.

“You… you don’t understand, Wars. You don’t know how it was. I was here all along. Trapped inside. I could see everything but I… I couldn’t do anything to stop myself. I hit you. I hit Twilight. I stabbed Legend. I… I felt my hands breaking the Champion’s arm…”

A wave of nausea rises from is stomach at this memory. Warriors wordlessly pulls his shoulder against his. The two of them stay still and silent. Time tries his best to breathe slowly and ease the shaking of his hands while Warriors gazes at the fairies’ dance around the fountain.

It shouldn’t be this way. Time was supposed to be the one who’d have reassured Warriors, who’d have told him how good he was as a leader, would have apologized for the harm he caused. He expected to receive anger and reproaches. Bloody hell, in this timeline the Captain is like, ten years younger than him? No matter how much Time feels tired and lonely, or how much he enjoys putting his head against Warriors’, closing his eyes and listening at nothing but the song of the crickets and the rustle of the wind.

…

Hylia, he needed it.

“Thanks, Wars.” He says.

“Anytime, Sprite.”

Warriors gives him a friendly shove between the shoulder blades and Time takes the opportunity to tilt his head aside and wipe his eyes discreetly, because they prick a little.

“You know, I thought about trying the song of Time.” He confesses.

“Oh? I was convinced you were only able to go back a few seconds earlier, now.”

Time makes a small hopeless gesture.

“Yes, and for years now!… Either the magic of the ocarina dried up, either I got old. But still, I considered it. After the battle. I thought that maybe, if I tried hard enough, if I put enough magic inside, if I gave all I had…”

“You could have erased what you had done.”

“Yeah…”

“And the moblin which had knocked me over and that Fierce cut in two just in time would have beheaded me.”

“What?”

Warriors shrugs.

“Moblin. Twice my size. Took my by surprise. It’d have cut my head but you got it from behind.”

Time frowns and tries to remember the few seconds of horror and panic during which he could still control his body and his friends were being overcome by a horde of bloodthirsty monsters.

“You… It really happened?” He stutters. “I don’t remember that. Actually, I more or less hit blindly under the effect of the influx of power and… Nayru, all this could have so much gone bad, I’ve been so reckless…”

“Cross my heart. Without your intervention, I wouldn’t be here today.”

“Then I… I’d have turned back five minutes earlier once again to save you. Without the mask. I might have do this.”

Warriors is smiling sharply when he replies:

“Of course. You might have. With some luck, you’d maybe killed that bokoblin which wanted to shoot an arrow at Twilight and which have been distracted by Fierce’s presence.”

Time gapes at him. Warriors taps his own nose.

“I’ve a good eyesight. And I’m used to pitched battles. It’s difficult to oversee everything when there’s so many things happening at the same time.”

Time smiles too and admits his defeat.

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you Wars?”

Warriors sneers. “You know how much I love to be right. At your service, Sprite.”

―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―⸦⸧―

Time and Warriors stay gazing at the stars for a while, without suspecting that their conversation got two more listeners.

Malon and Hyrule didn’t really mean to spy the two other Heroes. When they noticed that the place near the fountain was already taken, they tried to turn back. Only, Warriors arrived just then and he was looking straight into their direction, so they resolved to wait hidden behind a stere of wood.

From time to time, Malon discreetly wipes a small tear from her eyes, a hand clutched on her weeding ring. Hyrule, perched on a log near her, tries his best to not break down crying once again.

“Idiots, all of you.” Malon whispers fondly.

And Hyrule has to admit she’s right.

Chapter Text

“I could retire.” Link suggests.

Malon lifts her head slightly from his shoulder to smile at him.

“Not sure Hylia would let you.” She objects.

“Even if I roll around on the ground while crying very loud?”

Malon’s smile widens. “A big boy like you?”

“Don’t know, I’ve never tried tantrums. Maybe it works on goddesses?”

Link and she are curled against each other in their bed. Around them, the house is quiet, so they do their best to talk in a low voice. Seems everyone is finally asleep, which is quite a good thing given that the night is already far advanced. Malon burrows a little more under the blankets with delight. She’s used to sleep few, but good grief she’s very happy she got back her bed!

“We could still try.” She admits. “What if I roll around with you? Maybe it’ll have more weight…”

They both chuckle while they imagine the Heroes’ faces as watching them gesticulate in the grass at the next portal opening.

They ran into each other on the entrance of their bedroom. After a while, Warriors and Link had left their place near the fountain and Hyrule had been able to come closer. After five minutes sitting by the water, surrounded by the glow of the fairies, he’d turned back to his normal size and he and Malon had headed home.

When they had arrived, Warriors was climbing with a very determined gait the ladder to the attic and slamming the trapdoor behind him. Hyrule had gone straight to the guestroom, probably relieved to get back the relative calm of his bed. As for her, Malon had returned to her own room – where she finally met Link who were coming back from the bathroom. By tacit agreement, they decided to hide away in their quarters before it became both embarrassing and public.

“You heard everything.” Link whispers when they regain their seriousness.

Malon shrugs, it’s not a question.

“Hyrule and me.” She admits. “I wanted to show him the fountain.”

In the half-light, a strange expression passes on Link’s face. His body tenses against Malon’s.

“How is... I mean, he was fine? I was worrying he…

Malon cuts it off: “He had a lot weighing on his heart, that’s true. I think it’s gonna be better after some time. You should talk to him tomorrow, still.”

For now, she prefers keeping for herself the fact that one of the Heroes is half-fairy. It sounded like an important secret and, honestly, she doesn’t know what to think about it. With a saddened sigh, Link runs a hand on his eyes.

“Nayru, I’m so sorry…” He lets out. “I’ll do that. Maybe I can go now, if he’s not sleeping yet…”

Malon clings onto him with all her weight.

“Tomorrow.” She repeats sharply.

Link hesitates, then gives up on getting up. He smiles fondly.

“Right, tomorrow, you’re right. The others deserve to rest. I tormented them enough for now.”

“Link…” Malon threatens.

“Sorry, sorry. Things look always better in the morning, let’s enjoy some peace while we can.”

“That’s the spirit.” She approves with a wide smile.

She curls a little closer. The night is warm, but the breeze coming from the half-opened window is quite cool. Link’s body heat is welcome. Malon snuggles against him as she feels the tension slowly leaving her. With a sigh, Link puts his chin in her hair. His breath tickles a little when he whispers:

“I missed you. I thought about you every day.”

“Missed you too…” She murmurs back.

“How are you, when I’m not here? I mean… I know you’re totally able to take care of yourself and the ranch on your own, but are you… okay?”

Her nose in his neck, Malon yawns before she chooses carefully her words:

“M’okay. The ranch keeps me busy. The sun already rose and set long before we met, love… even if days are not as sweet when you’re not with me.”

Or rather, that’s what she tries to say, but it’s late, the day has been rough and full of emotions, and the warm body pressed against hers is slowly dragging her to sleep, so she mainly manages to mumble something about the sun and the ranch. She shakes herself a little, just the time to precise:

“I’m still happy you dropped by. It’s nice. But I would appreciate if the next times could be quieter. I love your boys, but having them is not a picnic.”

Link, who’s in the same state, giggles into her hair.

“Oh goddesses, that’s a bunch of gremlins…” He mutters in a sleepy voice.

Malon kicks him under the blankets – not too hard, just enough to get the message across.

“They’re good boys!” She protests as she yawns once again. “And thanks to them, I know I’d be a good mother… If I can take care of eight heroes, raising children won’t probably be so hard in comparison.”

Into the horrified silence that follows, Malon can hear Link picturing in his mind the Chain under the guise of eight overexcited toddlers.

“Please hon, not today, I’ve a headache…” He whispers with dread.

“You’re right. We have time.”

They giggle, curled against each other. Malon closes her eyes and lets her thoughts drift. Right, it’s all an adventure to raise a child. And for now, she’s quite content with her role of improvised mum for the little tribe of Links. But still. Still. It would be nice to have a little one just for them two. One with her husband’s big eyes and her own red hair.

A smile on her lips, Malon falls asleep as imagining a mini-Twilight with big blue eyes and a red hair full of cowlicks.

Chapter Text

Morning comes too soon. When Time surfaces, the too bright day already resounds with the cuccos’ cackle and his fellow Heroes’ voices. He gets up regretfully, puts a housecoat and hobbles to the bathroom in an arthritic gait.

He starts with a bath. A long, boiling bath like he only allows himself to have every six months when he’s home and isn’t in a rush, to compensate for all the times he had to settle for a quick washing behind a sheet at the camp or a dive in the river when they stop to eat. He shaves, puts clean clothes, spread some unguent on the fresh marks of his face and on the burns all over his body, then combs his hair away from his forehead. When he’s done, he almost feels himself again, or at least he doesn’t want to hit his reflection in the mirror anymore.

After that, he heads for the living room from where most of the voices are coming. His muscles are stiff and sore despite the warm bath, and Time knows from experience it’ll stay this way for the week at least. The fabric of his clothes rubs unpleasantly on his burns in spite of the layer of cream he used.

Time is… grateful for these pains. Because as long as he feels them, it means he has the control. And because it’s the price he has to pay for his actions, too. It reminds him he’s mortal and he’s lucky for it.

No one notices his presence before he reaches the living room. As he passes near the kitchen, he peers inside and sees Wild, busy cooking the breakfast. The Champion has his hood over his eyes and his movements lack of their usual liveliness. Leaning against a wall, Twilight keeps a close watch on him.

There’s more people in the living room. Discreetly, Time peers at Malon who is serving a dishevelled and surly Sky a cup of coffee, while at the other side of the table Wind and Four are trying to put forks upright on their respective noses in front of Warrior’s amused eyes. A normal morning at the ranch. Time feels a mix of complex feeling bubble into his chest – relief, fondness, guilt.

“Rulie? RULIE DON’T YOU EVEN DARE!”

Before he could turn, a weight hits him in the back. He looks and sees Hyrule, Legend’s hat in his hand, whose smile fades as he realizes in who he just bumped. Legend appears a second later, looking furious and a hot pad pressed against his wrist.

The two Heroes freeze in front of Time. He stares back without daring to move, heart pounding, stomach caught into a vice.

Saying he feels guilty would be an understatement. He didn’t have time to talk to them after the battle and, anyway, he’d be too afraid of scaring them. He knows he wasn’t in control when it happened, but he still remembers the feeling of his sword cutting through the Veteran’s flesh. He remembers the expression of horror on Hyrule’s face as he was walking toward him to kill him. Nothing will ever be able to erase that.

Legend gets between Time and Hyrule, but the Traveller puts a hand on his predecessor’s shoulder. They exchange a look, then Legend pulls the other into a brief but warm hug, after which he walks away in a stiff gait. At the last moment, when he’s sure Hyrule can’t see, he aims two fingers at his eyes, then at Time with a menacing face. Then he goes, leaving Hyrule and Time alone in the hallway.

Time tries to speak, his throat suddenly very dry. Before he could say anything, Hyrule takes his arm and pulls his sleeve up to his elbow.

“My spell burnt you.” He states.

His thumb slowly passes on the marks on Time’s skin.

“I can take care of it. If you want.”

Unable to find his words, Time nods and lets Hyrule run a hand on his burns. Almost immediately, the familiar feeling of the healing magic soothes the pain. A mix of relief, gratitude and guilt twists his heart.

“You don’t have to.” He manages to articulate. “You still must be tired…”

Hyrule lets out an annoyed sigh and holds back Time’s hand as he tries to remove it. That’s something Time noticed with him: when it’s about fighting or healing, Hyrule tends to become a little… intense. His usual shyness gives way to a cold determination which make him almost unstoppable. It makes him look quite brutal, but in general it’s pretty useful when he has to convince a bunch of stubborn Heroes to get healed.

And well, after what he did to him, Time probably deserves to get a little shaken up.

After a while, Hyrule seems to realizes he has probably been somewhat cutting, because he allows himself a brief, sheepish smile.

“I’ve been able to rest and get back some magic.” He affirms. “And I already healed the others, that’s why I permitted myself to bother Legend, wouldn’t have dared otherwise. So it’d be unfair I don’t heal you too, see… Malon let me use your medicine cupboard, by the way. Your collection of remedies is quite impressive.”

It clicks into Time’s mind. Suddenly, he has things to say. The part of his brain who takes care of the urgent topics in everyday life gets back working at top speed.

“We must have some arnica for Twilight.” He says very fast. “For the bruises on his back and shoulders. He didn’t complain but I know he had trouble to walk even after a potion. And… ah, Malon must still have some of the heating balm she uses on her knees when she had a hard day. I can fetch it for Legend, his joints hurt.”

Distractedly, he notices the surprised and worried look Hyrule gives him, but he’s too gone to wonder why. The words tumble out of his mouth.

“And Sky shouldn’t drink too much coffee, it’s bad for his stomach. He always does that when he gets up early. If he wants something that helps to wake up, there must still be some of the ginger tea I bought in town last year. Wind probably caught a cold with the rain of the other day, would be better if he could stay in the warm today – he’ll pretend he’s okay, but if we let him out he’ll have flu for the week. Warriors should keep him company, he didn’t sleep well tonight, it’d be nice if he could rest too.”

Now Hyrule is staring at him with eyes as round as saucers. His hands are resting on Time’s forearms like to stabilize or calm him.

“Ah, and Four looks unusually cheerful this morning. It’s rare to see him play with Wind and that’s nice, I guess, but maybe it means he’s having one of those weird mood swings again. Maybe he’d need some quietness too – he likes to be alone in these cases, doesn’t he? Could be good. And Wild…”

“Drank too much hasty elixirs.” Hyrule completes while Time catches his breath. “And he should drink a lot of water and have a nap to reduce the effects.”

“Exactly! And with his slate turned off, or else…”

“Or else he’ll take another elixir to compensate.”

“And forget he drank it and have another when it’ll take effect.”

Time takes a deep breath, totally drained. All his worries, everything he stopped himself to say or to do along the previous days to not disturb his companions, everything got out in one go. Hyrule looks like his struggling to hold himself back from bursting out laughing. As Time takes another breath in, determined to keep going with the clothes needing to get resewed and his recipe of honeyed milk in case Wind’s throat hurt, the younger Hero gestures him to stop.

“I know Time, I know all that.”

After a hesitation, he adds:

“You’re a good leader, Time.”

His tone and phrasing are so similar to Warrior’s, when they were near the fountain, that a lump forms in Time’s throat and his knees start shaking. Anxiety settles into his chest.

“You heard us.” He croaks. He knew, of course, Malon told him after all, but it’s not the same to have the confirmation.

Hyrule nods. He looks vaguely ashamed, probably ill at ease to admit he eavesdropped, but Time doesn’t care. His valid eye starts watering.

“I’m so, so terribly sorry…” He whispers.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, I know it’s not your fault.”

Hyrule’s eyes are shinning too. Head low, he runs his hand on Time’s arm again and gives every appearance of focusing on an almost already healed burn. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet and slightly shaky.

“I heard you fighting the mask. I really wanted to help you, but I couldn’t do anything. It was terrifying.”

Time closes his eyes, trying to hold back the memories of those few minutes of horror, when he was nothing but a passenger in his own body, unable to take the control back, unable to look away… His hand raises and squeezes Hyrule’s who, quite understandably, shudders. However, he doesn’t move away and Time can see he’s doing his best to keep a calm facade despite his fear. His eyes briefly meet Time’s before he focuses on the burns again.

“I’m glad you’re back.” He affirms shyly.

“So… it’ll be alright? Even after… this?” Time can’t believe it.

Hylia, he’s sure that if Hyrule keeps taking care of this burn, his arm will gain an immunity to sunburns.

“It will.” Hyrule nods – and a small mischievous grin appears on his face. “If you gives us an explanation, if I’m dispensed of dishes duty for the month and if I’m allowed to come back after midnight next time I go exploring with Wild.”

Time lets out a nervous laugh. Little manipulative gremlin. He looks away, just to relax his tense neck, surely not to hide his eye which is watering more and more.

“Okay for the dishes duty, I agree to do it myself ad vitam if you want. For the exploration, deal with Twilight, he’s insufferable when his cub doesn’t come back for diner. And as for the explanation, I do owe you one…” He stops, suddenly aware of the silence in the living room. The conversations and the laughs start again and he could almost think he imagined it. He concludes with an amused smile:“...Actually, let’s do that right now.”

Chapter Text

“So… an evil god gave you a weird mask, announced you would play “the bad guy” and you not only took it, but also kept it and used it several times?” Legend frowns as he sums up.

Time looks down, aware it’s pointless to deny it.

“Right…” He admits. “Said like this, it sounds terrible, but at the time I was trying to stop the moon from crashing on the town. I couldn’t afford to say no.”

And then things became… complicated, he completes as thinking about the period he spent fighting at Warrior’s and Tune’s side.

“What impress me the most, it’s the fact you managed to survive to such an advanced age.” Legend declares. “You’ve as much common sense as Wind, Old Man-…”

“Hey!” Wind protests.

“…And even him knows better than picking up the first cursed item he finds!”

Time bows his head lower. Honestly, he gets what he deserves.

They’re all gathered around the table. Malon put a huge coffee pot in the middle and, to Time’s great despair, Sky is already sipping his third cup. Everyone listened the story of Termina and of the Fierce Deity mask in a quasi-total silence. Most of them look shocked. Twilight gives the impression that someone just walked on his grave. Warriors seems to be lost in his memories, a bitter grin on his lips. Hyrule keeps his eyes low, but Time can see he’s clenching his fists hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Four reaches out for the mask, at the centre of the table, which looks like it’s silently laughing at them. The Smithy seems slightly sick since Time talked about possession, but his mauve eyes sparkle with curiosity.

“May I?”

Time nods and lets him take the mask.

“It’s just painted wood.” Four observes with a pensive voice. “Cedar, I think, from the grain. And you said a god lives inside?”

Indeed, said like this, it doesn’t seem credible. Time shrugs. Since when does his journey make sense? “I don’t know if he really lives inside. My other masks are kind of… vestiges of people who existed before and who are, I hope, at peace now. Except the soul in this one never left.”

Four’s eyes shine like amethysts. He asks: “What would happen if I donned it?”

Warriors tenses suddenly.

“I deeply recommend you to refrain from trying.” He speaks.

“You’d surely end up like me the other day.” Time answers.

Despite his resolution to keep his calm whatever would happen and the trust he has toward Four, he can’t help but feeling deeply unsettled at the idea. The Fierce Deity mask is… his. He’d have given it willingly last night; but Warriors is right. It’s his burden. His weapon. His responsibility. The mere thought of someone else with the mask, confronting him with the face of his own demon, gives him goose bumps.

“Highly unpleasant.” Four concedes. “But I’d like to try a last experiment.”

His eyes burn with a redder shade.

“Legend, may I have your fire rod?” he asks politely.

Malon clears her throat with a disapproving air.

“You know the rule, no weapon in the house.” She reminds them.

“Just for five minutes, I swear!”

Legend, a hand around the pot of unguent offered by Hyrule as a token of peace, grumbles a little, but takes the item out of his bottomless bag. Four grabs it and walks to the fireplace, the mask still in his other hand. Time cringes when the smith drops it and throws a generous fire ball directly at the painted wood.

“My panelling!” Malon protests.

With a sheepish look, Four wipes the frame of the fireplace with a sweep of his sleeve, then picks up the mask from the ashes. Time doesn’t need to get closer to know it’s perfectly untouched and isn’t even warm.

“You won’t be able to destroy it like this.” He says. “I tried a few things, fire, acid and even my megaton hammer, once. Didn’t even make a scratch. Actually, I’m not sure it really exists in our plan of reality, as if the mask itself was just the manifestation of something beyond.”

“Interesting…” Four’s eyes are purple again as he nods thoughtfully.

His looks makes Time deeply ill at ease. He fidgets nervously.

“I know that all this in really strange and you probably have a lot of questions.” He declares. “But we must think about what we’ll do next.”

Eight sets of eyes stare at him with surprise. Malon, as for her, rolls hers.

“About what?” Twilight questions.

Time raises an eyebrow as gesturing to the mask. “But about this, for Nayru sake! I used the power of an evil god and nearly killed you! Doesn’t that affect you?”

The Heroes share looks, then each one answers more than the other:

“T’was freaky!” Wind announces.

“My back still hurts.” Twilight confirms.

“Your alter ego is an asshole, for sure!” Legend exclaims.

Time’s stomach makes a nasty twist. He takes his head in his hands, brushes away the locks sticking to his forehead and looks daggers at his companions. Are they laughing at him? He’s trying to have a serious talk and these idiots are laughing at him?

“And that’s all?” He asks as doing his best to keep away his anger from his voice.

“What else would you want, be punished maybe?” Legend replies.

Yes! Time screams inwardly. His mouth opens like a fish out of water. The others give him astonished looks.

“You must be joking.” Four grumbles.

“You thought you were at your trial, Old man?” Twilight sounds incredulous.

“And yet, it’s nothing!” Warriors adds. “Last night, he wanted to palm the mask off on me. He looked like he believed it was why he was the leader or something.”

“Pfff!” Legend scoffs.

“If we’d to choose the leader according who has the more powerful item, it would be Wild and his magical slate, RIGHT CHAMPION?” Twilight leans a little toward Wild who moans, holding his head.

“Yeah… maybe, no screams please…” The Champion whines.

“You’ll think about it next time.” Twilight tells him before he turns back to Time. “Alright, it’s true we had a bad time, but it doesn’t call your place among us in question. You’re our leader, that’s all. We won’t, I dunno, exile you or depose you.”

“Told you.” Warriors insists.

This time, Time fails at holding back his anger. A white-hot wrath soaks his words as he speaks: “I-almost- killed -you…”

“Are you sorry?” Wind asks with the deepest seriousness, frowning and hands joined in front of him.

Time almost chokes. “Of course I am!”

“You’re very, very sorry and you won’t do it ever again?”

Never again! Time wants to exclaims. Then he remembers. He remembers the violence of the battle, the enemies coming over and over, the rising certitude of the defeat… It has been so simple, so quick to undo the strap of his bag, to break the seal protecting his masks and to put his hand inside to precisely find this one …

“I…”

As he lets his voice trails without daring end his sentence, the mischievous spark in Wind’ eyes fades. Four puts down the mask on the table. The others wait for the next, looking grave.

“Actually, I would rather like to stab my other eye than hurt you again.” Time confess more quietly. “But I know that what happened there is very likely to occur again. There’ll always be a battle we won’t be able to win…”

Is Twilight… crying? His eyes are shinning weirdly, but he keeps his head straight and a determined face. Time forces himself to continues:

“...And I know I’ll be tempted to use the power of the Fierce Deity at this time. That’s why I can’t promise you I won’t do it again. Sooner or later, it’s a choice I’ll have to make and I know what I’ll choose.”

“Time…” Twilight’s voice quavers as he speaks. “If you do that, you may never come back. You know that.”

Time nods. “This price, it’s something I’m ready to pay in exchange of your lives.”

A shocked silence follows his words. Then Sky finishes his coffee in one gulp, puts the cup on the table loudly and declares:

“That’s bullshit.”

Everyone, even Time, gives him an astonished look. The eyes of the kindest Hero blaze in wrath and a sardonic grin contorts his lips. A nearly tangible anger radiate of him. Time shudders – that’s the second reason which explains why Sky shouldn’t have coffee. The nickname “God slayer” briefly crosses his mind. For once, it seems to stick.

“What I’m hearing” Sky tells “it’s you would be ready to sell your soul to save our skins and, guess what, you succeeded. No one’s dead. You saved us and I’ve the feeling that maybe, maybe, it was the objective at first. Now listen to me Time: alright, it could have gone off better, surely we would have preferred you keep the control, but at last it worked. You didn’t want to kill us. Let it to the bastards we fight out there. For me, the incident is closed. You’re one of us. You own a cursed item. I don’t want to hear you blaming yourself for someone else’s acts.”

Discreetly, Malon takes back the coffee pot and pretends she’s serving herself a cup. The others stirs nervously on their chair, trying their best to avoid visual contact with Sky – who, for now, has fallen silent and stares at Time as if he wanted to drill holes into his skull.

“Everyone agrees with him?” Time asks as turning to his companions, unable to hold any longer the Skyloftian’s gaze.

Somehow, he would like they were mad at him. He would like to be rejected, to be judged for his faults and left to his guilt. That’s what he deserves, according to him. But somewhere deep inside him, he’s afraid. Somewhere he’s eight, his fairy has just gone and he’s crying please, don’t leave me, not again, please, please…

“I’ve said I would carry you if you fell and I meant it!” Warriors declares.

“You’ll need a healer if you keep going like this.” Hyrule replies in a slightly shaking voice.

Legends puts a hand on the shoulder of his successor and adds:

“Seems someone needs to learn how to deal with a cursed item.”

“Sorry Old man, but you won’t get rid of me nor any of us so easily.” Twilight continues.

“A pirate never abandons a member of his crew.” Wind comments.

“We just have to convince the beefy guy to give Time back if it happens again, right?” Wild asks as massaging his temples. “I think it’s doable.”

Sky still has his terrible grin. “I wonder if this god is easily sliceable too.”

“Oh, the taller they are, the harder they fall.” Four affirms with a nasty spark in his blue eyes.

Malon leans toward Time to tell him under her breath:

“Just… next time, don’t get electrocuted, want you?”

Time looks at each of his companions facing him, faces serious and determined. They seems pretty sure of their decision and he knows from experience it would be easier to alter the course of the sun than to make them change their mind. The tension suddenly leaves his shoulders. He lets out the breath he wasn’t aware to hold and the knot twisting his stomach loosens. Malon takes his hand with a comforting smile.

Warriors gives Time a self-satisfied smile and declares:

“See? I told you. You’re a good leader and there’s no way we let you down. Sorry old chap, you’ll have to tolerate us for a while.”

Despite himself, Time feels a smile twists his own lips. He picks up the mask left on the table. The painted face sends back an empty glare. This time, oddly, it’s less anxiety-inducing than usually. For his peace of mind, Time looks daggers at the Chain, but his heart isn’t in it. He could rather hug them. Actually, no, he will, right after that.

“You’re just a bunch of reckless idiots without any self-preservation instinct.” He warns them.

“It runs in the family!” Twilight replies as he sticks his tongue out.

With a soft laugh, Time puts away the mask of the Fierce Deity in his bag and closes the seal.