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Chapter Text

Green, Red, Blue, and Vio reach out with their Swords as one, the magic of their being unravelling and reweaving, the blades overlapping and merging as they return it to the Sanctuary pedestal.

A blinding light, their soul gathered and forced back together far less perfectly than the unified Sword itself. It has been so long, the pieces are no longer the same shape.

Still, for the first time in months they are one again.

Link opens his eyes, and lets go of the Four Sword. Princess Zelda laughs, delighted and giddy. He grins at her, saving her feels like the only thing every aspect of him felt the same about.

He gets in a good solid ten or so seconds of existence as a single entity again before the portal opens beneath him.

ꕤ

Link hits the ground flat on his back and d i s s o l v e s. The solidity of his mind melting away like sugar in water.

'THE FUCK?!' Blue puts it succinctly.

Vio stirs, 'Oh, this can't be good.'

'NO SHIT, VIO!'

'Why are we separate?' Red panics, 'Why are we still here instead of Link!?'

'Incoming!' Green cuts in.

Their attention snaps together and Link rolls to the side, narrowly avoiding a club wielded by some unfamiliar monster, a bat eared gremlin-y thing about his height. Where is he? What happened!? He doesn't recognise this place, a wide plane of long grass rippling in the wind. He lurches to his feet and staggers back, reaching for his sword that… isn't there.

Oh fuck.

He falls apart again.

'See if we're got my hammer!' 'Fire Rod!' 'We can't fight like this!'

Green grabs control of the body, which turns out to be a thing they can do, huh?! Just in time to get a club to the ribs, he goes down and in the shared pain and panic they're Link again.

This is bad, this is really bad. Is this how he dies after everything? He doesn't even understand what happened! He reaches for his bag for something, anything to use.

The monster raises its club, ready to bring it down on him, to crack open his head or chest, only to be distracted by a sharp yell. The creature turns from him to abruptly find itself on the defensive.

A boy in red sweeps in at unnatural speed, 'Pegasus Boots' Link thinks, an oddly orange-gold sword sweeps past the monster's guard and straight into its neck. The beast dissolves in a cloud of dark magic.

He cracks apart at the sight of it, Vio's grief cutting through them all. Shadow, Shadow , he loved Shadow. No it was Vio, no Vio is Link and he remembers. He watched him die, four times, as four people, but only one it tears open like a knife. Grief echoes around him, reverberating through their soul, tangled in their shared being.

'FOCUS!' Green orders, 'We're in a fight!'

"Hey, HEY!" The guy in red is yelling at them, him, him. "Are you okay?!"

Link tries to draw in a breath and coughs up blood instead. So that's a 'no' to that question. Potion, he needs a potion, that everyone can agree on. He shoves a hand into his bag and rummages around until he finds a bottle. Empty. He tries again and pulls out Red's Fire Rod instead, okay, he has a weapon, great.

He wheezes in a breath and it hurts. Broken ribs for sure. He lifts his head to see the red swordsman intercept another of the unfamiliar monsters.

'Fight?' Link feels a shadow of Blue echo through him, not strong enough to break him down this time.

He tries to breathe again, and no, healing first. He reaches for another bottle and this time finds one mostly full, thumbs out the cork and gulps it down. Grits his teeth as muscles and tendons shift, tearing his ribs back into place. He chokes again and coughs more blood as his lungs clear and heal.

He grabs the Fire Rod and staggers to his feet.

"You know how to use that?" The swordsman asks.

"Yeah," Link wheezes and coughs out another lungful of blood.

"Great, do not fucking set me on fire. Stay out of the fight and don't die."

Blue slams into existence and takes over the body, indignant, "Fuck you."

The guy just blinks at him, then gives a smug, condescending, "Haa," before sprinting away.

Oh fuck that guy. Blue takes a few steps after him then stops, dizzy, and it's Link in control when they start walking again. This is a nightmare, how is he supposed to function if his mind keeps fracturing like this? If every time he feels strongly, or gets a shock, or has some internal disagreement he falls apart?

He jogs down, then along the side of the hill he's appeared on. Grassland stretchs far into the distance like nothing he's ever seen before. So big and open and empty. There's a castle off on the horizon, but he can't make out the features properly from here, another thing to think about later. He feels Vio stir and mentally begs him not to. Please, please, please, let's just hold it together until we're safe.

Ahead of him, his saviour launches himself full speed down the hill and slams into another fight with the same creatures. There's someone else down there Link realises, armoured like a knight and wearing a bright blue scarf that probably indicates rank or order, or perhaps his house. It's no standard he knows. 

He's holding his own against a small crowd, but the arrival of the other swordsman turns the fight quickly. Link does not set either of them on fire, thank you very much, but manages to pick off a couple of large flying creatures (doesn't recognise them either), that were harassing them with the Fire Rod.

A short time later, it's done; the creatures vanished back into smoke and magic. Mostly, they leave some guts behind. 'Ew' insists part of him, 'Cool' another part corrects, while Vio, because it can only be Vio, just contributes, 'Interesting'.

Link wonders if there's a convenient tree he can beat his head against. But alas, nothing but grass, and he walks the final distance down to the two swordsmen.

"Thanks for the save," says the knight, and Link just shrugs, not trusting his voice. "What are your names?"

"Link," says the young man in red.

"Huh?" Link startles.

The man with the scarf looks between the two of them, "Please, not again."

"Alright, what is it? Spit it out and let's get this over with," growls the other boy.

Scarf guy points to himself, "Link," then to the swordsman, "Link," then to, well, Link, "And I'm willing to bet, Link."

He nods.

There's a beat of silence, and Link realises he's going to have to have the 'I'm the real Link' conversation and decide on names all over again and breaks into laughter. So does the other guy, but his sounds unhinged.

He looks at him properly for the first time and he looks… tired. He's only a couple of years older than Link, maybe seventeen or so. Thin and worn like he's been on the road recently and for a long time. Scruffy like he's not long out of a fight even. He could do with a bath. Like himself really, was he caught by a portal too?

Link's control collapses again. Worry and fear for the both of them from Red, Green's concerns they're not handling this right and being improper in front of the knight, Vio desperately trying to work out what's happened. Link's body chokes on air and collapses to its knees, coughing and spluttering.

Blue shoves to the front and catches their collective breath, "Fuck."

"You okay?" Scarf Link asks.

"Peachy." He pushes himself back to his feet, Link's feet, and glares until the knight stops looking concerned.

"You!" Red guy points his blade at scarf guy, "Explain!"

He holds up his hands, placating, "Where I'm from there was a war. Time magic was involved and it pulled in people from all across history. One of the… constants across time is a boy named Link is born with the Hero's Spirit in Hyrule's time of need. He and the Princess Zelda fight to save their land from ruin, usually at the hands of Ganon. Many of them are recorded in my history."

"I beat him," Link adds abruptly. He didn't even notice when he stopped being Blue.

"So did I," Red guy adds, "Years ago, three times even."

The knight nods gently, "You were pulled here too, yes? I don't know why, or by whom. But I've met others in the same situation before and I guess… There's something we need to do here."

"Fuck." The young man lets his sword drop, and he just sounds so resigned, "Again?"

"Again?" Link asks.

"This happens to be the third time I've been unceremoniously kidnapped and dumped in a foreign country by a higher power with no explanation."

Okay, Link can understand the edge of unhinged hysteria in his tone now.

"It's fiiiiiine, I didn't need to go home. It's empty now anyway. Hey, at least I have my stuff this time!" He cackles abruptly and there's a wash of worried Red through Link's mind at the sound of it. The guy is close to breaking point. He's not feeling much better himself to be honest.

"Okay,” The knight says, still with the placating tone, “I think you're the Hero of Legend then. So why don't we call you Legend?" 

"I don't fucking care," replies the newly dubbed Legend.

"Then by the same system I'm Warriors, or Wars flows off the tongue easier I suppose. Or you can use my rank, I'm a Captain."

Legend snorts derisively. It's not that high a rank, huh? Or maybe he just doesn't respect military types.

Wars ignores him and turns to Link, "What about you, got a Hero title?"

"Isn't he a civilian?" Legend asks. Rude. Wars waves at him to be quiet.

"Um, Hyrule?" Link asks.

Legend snorts yet again, "We're all the Hero of Hyrule."

"The Minish?" He tries instead.

"Oh, the Four Sword right?" Says Wars, "Hero of Light, Hero of the Four Sword."

Legend twitches and his head snaps towards Link at the announcing of his titles, giving him a hard look. He seems uneasy and it makes Link feel the same.

"Light?" He wonders aloud, because he hasn't heard that one before.

"Do you want to be Light?" The Captain asks.

Such an innocent question. Link shatters once more and it's all grief, a sword through his heart, no, a shard of Mirror glass. Light without a Shadow. The part of him that's Vio tangles with the part of him that's Red and drags them all down. Blue simmers in ineffective rage and frustration and failure.

"Link, Link are you okay?" The man is kneeling in front of him. When did he fall to his knees again? When did he start to cry?

Green claws his way into control, pulling the body out of its sobbing, "Apologies, it's been a long day." He smiles and knows it's the fakest looking thing, "Not 'Light' I think. Give us a moment?"

His thoughts turn inwards, 'Deal with this later! There will be time to grieve later, we're not safe like this!'

Those are the magic words to pull Blue out of the sinkhole of grief. Then, gradually, the balance tipped, the other two follow. When Link blinks back to life he finds Wars is still watching him. Patient. Worried. 

"Four," Link announces abruptly, wiping the tears off his face with his sleeve, "I can be Four."

Chapter Text

Link, well Four if he kept the nickname, though he didn't know if he actually needed it, had had to accept part of his nature was 'crybaby'. He wouldn't call it that out loud… well, okay, he absolutely would if he split again, but the point was it sounded better to say he was empathetic.

'Uh huh, crybaby.'

Yes, yes, Blue, we all know what you think.

Anyway, that was fine, he could deal with that, and right now he was cutting a deal with that big-feeling part of his soul. He was going to have such a good cry, okay? It was going to be great, he would grieve Shadow and his Father, and being portalnapped, and the fact that the merging of the disparate parts of his soul obviously hadn't worked properly, and he was now fundamentally and perhaps irreparably broken as a person.

But, BUT, he wasn't allowed to let it overwhelm him yet. He had to get somewhere safe first, had to schedule the breakdown. Because right now he was trekking across monster-infested countryside with a smug dickhead who was obviously going through some shit, and the pretty boy platonic ideal of a perfect knight (his father would have adored him) who kept looking at Four like he was working out the correct way to handle him.

Ha! Too bad Sir Sparkles, even Four didn't know how to handle himself!

That was becoming painfully, embarrassingly obvious as the three of them made their way around the hill and across the field towards the only structure they'd thought they'd be able to reach before nightfall. A strange tent-like shelter with a massive wooden horse head mounted in the centre.

He didn't judge —question, yes— but not judge.

One step in front of the other as his brain fractures and reforms, as Red whispers fears and sorrows and plays Legends hopeless 'Again?' over and over in his mind. As Blue urges him to move, to pick a fight with whatever being stole them here, looking for some way to burn off the stress. As Green tries to keep a handle on them, worries about how they're coming across and what trouble it's going to cause if they're so clearly mad. As Vio schemes and analyses and overthinks, trying to think of ways to confirm what happened to them, are they just in a different place or is it indeed a different time? Did they die? Is this some strange side effect from the Sword? Are they kidnapped like Legend thinks? What do they need to do?

As they all try to keep from thinking about what and who they've lost.

Was he always such a mess? Will he always be?

Legend storms ahead of them in a foul mood, as if trying to outrun the reality of all this. He'll glance back at them sometimes and Four can't read his expression under 'mad at the world.'

Four thinks if he gave in to Blue he'd look the same.

He steps awkwardly on a tussock of grass and twists his ankle mildly, wrecking his coherence for a moment. Wars makes a perfunctory move to grab him, but aborts as Four, or whoever holds the reins in that instant, waves him off. He has to take too long a moment to be sure he's in control before he can start again. He knows it shows.

His stride isn't smooth, his focus scattered. Clumsy. Humiliating. Terrifying.

He hates this.

Wars walks beside him, but quickly gives up on trying to make small talk when he barely answers. Four wouldn't usually mind, but just walking is already taking too much of his focus.

Multitasking is, ironically, beyond him.

Legend reaches the structure first and they catch the end of his conversation to learn that a. this place is a stable, and b. yes, they have accommodation. Specifically they have a bunch of beds that can be curtained off that they rent out, or you can just set up camp outside.

The mood seems good, the building clean and horses well cared for. He likes it, he likes how communal it seems.

Legend pays for a bed, just one, then completely ignoring the both of them, goes off to have a nap, or at least hide from everyone.

Well that's not his business, he's not as convinced they're a group as much as the Captain seems to think they are, and Legend even less so.

Four pays for a night's stay, then just leaves. The Captain can do what he wants, he has too many people to deal with just being by himself right now.

There was a river behind the stable he caught sight of on the way in, so he goes there then walks along it until he's found a place where the bank has worn away enough to give him an overhang to hide under. Far enough away no one can hear him.

He's sobbing before he even reaches it. He doesn't even have the emotional energy to hate himself for that, he just keeps going until he can tuck himself away out of sight and weep.

He is fifteen years old and somehow managed to both win and lose everything in a single day.

Curling up under the lee of the embankment to let it overwhelm him. Crying like he hasn't since the day his mother died.

Big, ugly, heaving sobs. It's unsafe, he knows, he cannot see, cannot breathe, cannot think. Does not care.

His father is dead by his hands. It was complicated, but he loved him and he'll never fix it now. They'll never come to terms on his knighthood or his smithing, he'll never know he saved Zelda and defeated Vaati. He'll carry it forever.

'It was Vaati,' whispers Vio, trying to comfort, and find comfort, with the logic of it. 'He was trying to kill us.' It doesn't matter. 'He would have chosen any of us over him.' It doesn't matter. 'We had to save Zelda.' That… maybe that does. He won't be there for the funeral he supposes, not of him or anyone who died.

Shadow, of course, wont get a funeral. No body, no mourners. No one knew him, nothing but a monster to the world. 'He made the choice, he was a Hero and you shouldn't take that from him,' Green wraps around them. Shadow didn't know him, he never knew Link. He wonders how he would have felt about him, if he would have cared for him beyond Vio.

He'll never know, they'll never get to work it out. Shadow never got to have a real life, not really, never got to have his freedom and work out who he wanted to be. He made one important final choice, and he saved them all, and he died.

And now… what now? He's not going home, he's not… he's broken, huh? In some way no one has ever been broken before. Months and months as four separate people and now they didn't quite fit together any more. Every time he picked up that Sword it cracked his mind and soul a little more, and this time it finally split it.

Now he can barely function. It's all so hard, even when they don't fully separate inside of him, it's like he's always on the edge of it. Like they're all holding a balance and it takes effort. The edges fuzz and blur. 'It's only been a day, even less, we'll work it out.'

He weeps for the dead, for all the Links he was before who are dead and gone in their own way, and for whoever he is now. This broken, scattered thing.

'We'll be okay,' a promise, a hope, an unknowing lie? 'You'll be okay. I'll be okay.'

He doesn't even know how many people he is. One? Four? Five? But they love him, he thinks, and he loves them, and they mourn together.

His head hurts and it's hard to breathe and he's all snotty and teary and gross. And eventually he runs out of tears. No one can cry forever, and the fact is it's not in his nature. Even the part of him that is Red, who holds as much of the joy as the sorrow and can slip from one to the other between heartbeats.

He is too practical, too curious, and he has fallen through a portal to a massive open grassland apparently in the future. Or past? Apparently time travel anyway. Whatever this is he needs to be able to meet it.

Keep moving forward.

He grabs a bar of soap and a washcloth from his bag, strips off and wades into the river to get clean. Scrubbing off all the sweat, blood, and dirt from the last couple of days. He deliberately turns his mind from the puzzle of how that works, how four people become one and what carries over physically. It doesn't matter, either he can experiment with it in the future, or he'll never split again.

He washes his hair, also greasy and gross after everything. It's getting shaggy, should he cut it? Maybe now's the chance to grow it out for a while. He's been thinking about it, but his father would just grab him when it was starting to get unruly and get the barber surgeon of the guards to cut it, if not do it himself. He hadn't cared enough to fight it.

Guess that's not going to happen now.

It's too cold to stay in the water long, even with the warmth of the… Spring? Early Summer? Sun. So he hurries out and pulls a small towel out of his bag to dry himself. At least he's still got his, their, stuff.

Four looks over the dirty green hat and tunic left where they were dropped and kind of can't stand them. To be 'just' green, even if the shade's a little different to Green's. The same as when everything started. But he doesn't have anything else. He puts on a change of leggings and shirt, but leaves off the tunic and hat for now, instead he climbs to the top of the embankment and uses them as a pillow as he settles to dry in the last of the afternoon sun.

He lays on the grass and watches the sky darken and the stars come out, tracing the constellations, letting his mind roil and fracture as it will. It hurts a little, but the headache could just be from the crying too. Maybe he just needs to get all of it out of his system.

Somehow he knows that's not true.

It's properly dark and he's starting to get cold when Warriors comes to find him, a lantern in one hand.

Four sits up as the older man sits down beside him. It's… okay he supposes. He hasn't really thought much about the other two yet, about how they're all Link. He's already got too many Links to deal with.

"You okay?" Wars asks.

"Yeah," Four lies, because really, what else is there to say?

Wars looks out across the river, "I know it's hard to believe but—"

"I know we've time travelled."

Wars blinks at him, "You do?"

"A long time I think," Four adds.

"Why do you think that? How can you tell?" He asks with seemingly genuine curiosity.

Four doesn't even bother trying to stay together, he lets himself go and Vio points a finger towards the sky, "Constellations have shifted. The Triangle is squatter, the mast of The Ship is crooked, there's a guest star in The Swan. It's been theorised that star positions may not be fixed over long periods but poor record keeping has made this difficult to verify. Preliminary data from the Wind Tribe has been promising."

Wars stares at him like he's grown four heads. It's somewhat insulting. Vio scowls at him.

The Captain gives a forced laugh, "My apologies, I just wasn't expecting…"

"You think me being insane means I'm also stupid."

"No, no just…" He considers it, "Are you a sailor?"

"A smith."

"How did you know that about the stars?"

"A guy's allowed to have an education and interests."

"You're not like the others I've met," he seems a little bemused, Four —mostly Blue— kinda wants to punch him, "I wouldn't expect most people to work that out. "

"Well good for them." He puts his head in his hands.

"And I don't think you're mad."

"Yes, but didn't we just establish I'm the smart one?"

Wars barks a laugh, and that one sounds genuine, then considers for a moment. "I think both you and Legend, you've come from something very big haven't you?"

"I can't speak for Legend," Four points out without lifting his head

"You said you beat Ganon."

"So?"

"How long ago?"

"…Yesterday," he admits, unsure if he should be keeping it secret or not. He's never been one for keeping secrets for the sake of it, but he has a lot more now. How does he keep himself safe? The need to protect himself feels different now, different to the Link of before.

"…Ah."

"Yeah."

"Good job."

Four snorts, "Thank you."

"Want to tell me about it?" The Captain asks, smiling.

'Careful,' warns Vio, 'We don't know this man, we don't know what he wants from us, but there's something. He's asking lots of questions.'

'And giving us nothing,' Blue points out.

'He seems nice, I don't think he wants to hurt us,' Red argues.

'He's got a fake face on,' Green agrees, 'But I don't think Red is wrong.'

Blue gets fed up, "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" A hint of challenge? Or is it just in his head?

"Like you are assessing me," Blue growls, feelings tinged indigo.

Wars holds up the lantern beside his face, eyes still on him.

"Did you know your eyes change colour?"

Blue freezes, "What?" a spike of fear.

"Red now," the man says, and Vio forces himself to the front.

Wars blinks, seemingly not expecting the sudden change, "Purple."

Vio narrows his eyes, "Interesting. What have they mostly been?"

"Brown, I suppose. Dark. I didn't always pay attention."

A half lie, for he is always paying attention, just not to his eyes.

Link returns for a moment, flickering, Vio's curiosity and Red's fear and unease, and the man is still watching him closely, with too much interest and curiosity. It is a test and they cannot protect themselves properly like this.

Threat.

Link is gone again. Blue shoves the forefront and is on his feet with a growl, "Don't."

Wars backs up to give him space, "Hey, it's okay, you're okay."

It's Green who laughs at that, they are very much not okay thanks, and they stagger as the two of them vie for control.

'Hey, it was my turn!' 'You'll make things worse!' 'He wants something from us.' 'He's been polite, we can play along.' 'And walk right into a trap.' 'What trap?' 'Don't be a suck up just because he's a knight.' 'Don't pick a fight with everyone you meet!' 'I'm trying to protect us!' 'So am I!'

There's a shooting pain through their head and a layer of Red panic washes over them. 'What are you doing, stop fighting, you're making it hurt!'

Their chest tightens, a breath catches, they can't breathe. A sick feeling all through them, a staggered aborted motion to grab their chest. They maintain their feet but no one is really in control.

'Panic attack,' Vio identifies coolly.

"Four?" Asks Warriors, "Link?" Tentatively reaching out.

They can't find the balance again, can't find Link again.

Vio seizes control, just for a moment as the others flail. A twist on their feet, a jump, and gravity does the rest. He throws them off the embankment back into the river. What was pleasantly chill in the heat of day is severely unpleasantly so with the sun long down.

The shock of cold jolts them all back into being Link and he comes up hissing and spluttering and stalks out of the freezing river like an angry, waterlogged cat.

"Are you—" The Captain starts to ask, that assessing look gone.

"Crazy! Yep. Stark, raving mad! Oh fuck." He stops walking abruptly, he shouldn't have said that, now wants to cry again. A wave of red despair rising. Nope! We are not doing that! We have hit our allowed number of tears for the day!

He twists his fingers into his wet hair and pulls it painfully tight against his scalp, it helps, a little, to ground him.

'Careful,' warns Green. This must not become a habit. He'll need a way to centre himself as Four without using pain. But for now it's day one and he'll take what he can get. Keep moving.

He stomps over to his things and lets go of his hair to scoop up his boots, pack, and tunic, shaking from the cold. He is not, in fact, the smart one.

Wars is still watching him.

"P-perfectly fine," he stutters out between chattering teeth, and storms back towards the stable. Mentally spiralling between 'I want to scream (sad)', 'I want to scream (anger and frustration)', 'I am embarrassing myself in front of the knight', and 'What are we going to do about the time travel!' but in a kind of excited way. Like it's an opportunity. Vio, please.

Warriors follows him back, keeping some distance. Four doesn't have the focus to notice more than that. The cold isn't horrific, the river was just a river not glacial runoff or snow melt, but there's some Blue corner at the back of his mind getting increasingly and disproportionately twitchy and upset regardless.

The warmth of the stable barely cuts through the chill. He catches sight of Legend sitting at a communal table eating something and walks right past him.

"Man, what'd the little guy do to deserve that?" he addresses Wars as he follows him in.

Wars sighs, "Part of the embankment gave way," he says like a lying liar who lies.

He supposes he's hardly one to judge, thanks Vi. 'I got it from you, not the other way around.'

Four catches a doubtful "Uh huh," from Legend before he gets himself behind the curtains of his bed and fumbles to get changed with freezing fingers. Fortunately he's got a few shirts and leggings, he has four of a lot of things.

Still cold. He hops on the spot, trying to warm up. Maybe he could crawl under the covers with his Fire Rod.

"Four?" Wars again.

'Link,' he mentally corrects. Why had the guy been so keen to hand out nicknames? People shared names all the time. Did he really think they'd stay together long enough to need it?

"Mm?" He answers.

"There's food out here if you want it."

Ugh, he does.

He steps back out and the stable worker (owner?) who checked them in waves him over to the hearth, a woman in the same style of dress wraps a blanket around him and they fuss over him for a moment. A warm drink, milk and honey and a little whisky, is pressed into his hands and a sip of it settles warmth in his belly. Someone else hands him a plate of sausages and vegetables with some bread. The spices are unfamiliar but delicious. They leave him be when he makes it known he doesn't want to talk.

It warms him through, the fire and the food and the kindness.

He curls up there, the heat off the big wood stove reminding him of the forge at home. Warm, finally, and exhausted. Watching unfocused as Wars talks with the locals and Legend is pulled into a game of checkers with another traveller.

It's okay. He got Zelda home, they stopped Vaati and Ganon, those were the important things. He can deal with whatever comes now. Another adventure, right?

He misses them, misses being them. He wishes they could all curl up together, like last night, here instead of him being alone. They hum deep in his soul, 'never alone.' He doesn't understand what he is now, who he is. He misses… he wishes it could have been the five of them somehow.

He closes his eyes, just meaning to rest, and slips into sleep.

Chapter Text

Someone is kicking his foot, a steady rhythm against the sole of his shoe. One of the others? Annoying. Let him sleep.

"You paid for a bed, dumbass."

His eyes crack open and he shifts on the hard floor. It's warm, but not comfortable. Still on the road, where did he sleep last night? Is it time to get moving he… who… is he?

He rolls onto his back and tries to clear his head, a shiver running up his spine all the way to his skull and through his brain. The other hims shift and unsettle, crack but not fully fracture.

An older boy leans over him, "What happened with the knight?"

Legend, who is also named Link.

He is Link, that's right, except he really didn't get to be the only Link for very long, huh? Four, the only Four, he got that one to himself.

He is Link and he is Four. Are they different?

He is all alone now, not curled up beside the brothers of his soul or his Shadow. Never again.

Yet he will never again just be Link either.

"Nothing," Four says, after the question finally processes.

"You came back drenched."

He means to glare at him, but he suspects it's more of a bleary squint, "Mind your own business."

"Okay, look," he gestures with his hands as he talks, fidgety, "I don't need to know what happened, I need to know if Sir Presumptuous-about-our-company is the kind of person who shoves kids into rivers at night."

"I'm not a kid," Four prickles. He's over the fact hes not getting any taller, but he's sick of being treated like being short means he's a child.

"And that's not a fucking answer."

"What is your problem?!"

"My problem is I was kidnapped by a fucking portal, dipshit. I want to know what special flavour of horseshit I am looking at," Legend snaps at him.

He groans and rubs his eyes, this is going nowhere. There is a choice here he realises. He can keep pushing, because the guy is being a dick. So much. Or he can back down and be the bigger person (ha) and look like a pushover but maybe defuse things. He wants to fight, he wants to give an outlet for that blue anger and frustration in him. But he knows he'll make it worse.

'You and Legend have come from something very big, haven't you?' Wars asked him by the river.

Was Legend on his way home too? After months on the road, after some final battle, after losing someone too? The edge to his laugh, the crack in his voice, the hunch in his shoulders as they marched across the countryside, what were they from?

Four doesn't know if he deserves his patience or kindness, but he knows he's not who Legend's really mad at, and neither is the Captain.

So he doesn't bite, doesn't rise to the hostility even as he prickles at it. "He didn't do anything."

"Really?"

"Really."

Legend crouches down, "He asks too many questions."

"He's trying to work us out." Four's pretty sure of that at least. He doesn't know what the guy's military is like, but he wonders if he's trying to fit them in to his own little mental command structure.

"I don't like it," Legend admits, tugging on a pink lock of hair. It makes him look sullen and young.

"Do you trust his story?"

Legend shrugs, "I don't know, but this is the kinda shit that's always happening."

"We've time travelled," Four tells him, "at least I have, I think. Either that or someone's rearranged the stars. Or I don't know…"

"Could be a different realm. Wouldn't be the first time," Legend sits down. Four sits up, rearranging the blanket around himself, finally properly facing each other.

They're alone, he realises. Everyone else has gone to bed for the night, the hearth he fell asleep beside burning low. Was he worried enough that he stayed up late to be able to ask him with no one else around? Though perhaps if he really did have a nap earlier it wasn't so much of an effort.

"The writing here is different, I can't read it," Legend continues, "the people here call that," he waves in the direction away from the river, "Hyrule field though."

"It's too big," Four notes.

"It's too fucking big!" Legend agrees.

"I hadn't seen monsters like that before either," Four adds, feeling Vio leaning on him. He wants to know, he wants to solve whatever this is.

"Not the same, no."

"But if this is really Hyrule then… how do we get home?"

Legend sighs and leans back on his hands, "There's probably a young woman in distress around who's the key to all of it."

"Or a mage with an inferiority complex," Four adds thoughtfully.

"Well yes," Legend says with a wry smirk, "someone has to be the cause of the lady's distress."

Four laughs at that and Legend tilts his head, considering him, "How many times has that happened?"

"What do you mean?"

He waves a hand, "The bullshit, the kidnappings and villains and dungeons and—" He makes a 'and so on' motion.

"…this makes four," he gives a half smile at the pun.

Legend sneers at that, "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Well congratulations, looks like this is your life now. It just keeps fucking going."

"You—"

"This makes six."

Four gives him a look and Legend continues. "I'm seventeen," he says bitterly, bitingly, "So get used to it. If we're getting yanked across time now, not just to other continents, then I suppose they'll never run out of uses for us."

"What?"

"I, and I guess you too, are but a humble tool of the Goddesses, to be jerked across time at their will. They don't exactly take care of their things, do they?" Four hates the look he gives him, that judging, assessing scowl. He's seen his unsteady walk, his pauses in speech, his mood swings and decided he's broken. What he went through to save Zelda and Hyrule ruined him.

He hates he can't say he's wrong about him, but he doesn't think he's right about the Goddesses either. He wonders, belatedly, if that's what the Captain's wondering about them. Not where do they fit in a mental command structure, but what kind of tool are they to powers higher than themselves.

"You don't know that, you don't even know if that's how we're here."

"I can recognise a pattern," He sneers.

"I—" He stumbles on the words, unsure how to answer that, unsure what's going on. Part of him angry and part of him scared, but he still doesn't believe it. Vio comes to the rescue, "I am withholding forming an opinion on the matter until I have more information."

"Sure, sure. Deny reality for a while longer, why not, you've got time until this gets you killed."

"Fuck you," Blue interjects.

Legend smirks at him, smug.

'He wants to piss you off,' Vio tells him.

'He's pushing us away. We're like him, but he doesn't want to get along. He's angry because it's easy to drown everything else with it,' Red tell him.

'He has reason to be angry,' Blue points out, 'And so do we.'

Green chips in his thoughts, 'Vi is right though, we don't know what this is yet.'

They settle and he searches for some way to pull the conversation out of the impending fight.

"There's something else," Four realises, "You made a face when you head my titles."

Legend makes another face, he does not want to talk about this. Well too bad.

"Have you heard of me?"

"No." Put on the defensive.

"Bullshit," Blue buzzes in his head.

"Don't go getting a big head now, shrimp," Legend snips back ineffectively.

"You are also short, and now you're the one dodging questions."

"I don't have to tell you shit."

"Link," Four pleads, "Come on, you're not the only one dragged here. I'm not your enemy. You don't want to be friends fine, but I'm as tired of not knowing things, of not having answers, as you are."

He chews on that for a moment then finally says, "there was a dungeon. Called the Palace of the Four Sword."

"Why was that so hard to say?"

"Maybe I'm just a horrifically obnoxious person."

"Oh so you do realise!" Four says brightly, "Excellent!"

Legend just rolls his eyes.

"Do you know its story?" Four continues.

He shakes his head.

"Where was it? What was at the end of it?"

Legend hesitates, "…a sword. At the end of it I got a sword."

"What did it look like?"

"Brassy coloured hilt." He holds his hands apart to indicate something about as long as the Four Sword. Gee thanks, super descriptive.

Four pulls a little notebook (Vio's) and a pencil out of his bag, and sketches a quick picture of the Four Sword. He holds it out in the dim light for Legend to see.

"…yeah, that was it." He's definitely weird about it.

"Well that's another point for time travel. You're after me. I made that sword."

"So it could have been used by others after you?" Four can't read the emotion in that.

"Yeah, I don't see why not." That makes him pause, he… he's not sure he likes that thought. That there might be another after him it would break apart. Would they go into it knowing, or would it sit like a trap?

He had to do it, he'd had to pick it up again to save Zelda, and he wouldn't take that back. Every part of him would have given his life for that if it came down to it. But it was still a heavy price, the weight of a magic sword is much more than what is held by the hand.

"You didn't use it did you?" He suddenly worries.

"No."

"Good. Don't." May he be the only person it breaks.

Legend stands up. "I'm going to bed."

Apparently he's decided this conversation is over. Well. Progress? Maybe. Towards what he doesn't know.

"Good night," Four says.

"You shouldn't pick it up again either," Legend's tone is unreadable.

"What?"

"That sword."

He doesn't clarify further, just leaves him there by the hearth. And well, he's right about one thing, Four would actually prefer to sleep in the real bed that he's already paid for. Aside from Vio they'd all been on the road a long time.

He gathers himself up, goes to his bed and settles in.

"Good night," he whispers to himself.

'Good night, Link.'

ꕤ

Important discovery.

There is a dog.

She is a very good dog and her name is Maribelle and she is a tri-colour Hylian Retriever. Maribelle lives at the stable and perhaps all is not completely horrific with the world and his future after all. Or at least his present.

She likes him, and he likes her, and this is definitely not just stress and trauma manifesting in him getting overly sentimental about a friendly dog, nope, absolutely not.

Four hangs out with the dog for… most of the morning. Exploring the immediate surroundings, meeting horses, goats, and cuccos, listening to a minstrel troupe practice, patting her, throwing sticks. Important things, you know?

He needs some quality joy time or else the floodgates will open again and he'll be blubbering all over the nice people who already think he's either unhinged or about four years younger than he actually is (probably both). Or worse, he's gonna start getting angry.

It's not like he has anywhere he actually needs to be. Whoever or whatever sent their kidnapping portals should have left some instructions if they had plans they wanted fulfilled.

Legend does not want to hang out and the thought of navigating an attempt at it is frankly exhausting. He's just gonna be quiet and unobtrusive and practice not being a complete disaster.

He's back in his green tunic thanks to the windy overcast day, and he's getting the vibe that none of the three Links here are actually too keen on it. It's not like he has an alternative. If people, including himself, could stop being weird that would be great.

The Captain keeps checking on him, he's pretty sure. He seems to be everywhere around the site, talking to one person or another. The hovering is obnoxious, but he knows he's done nothing to convince this guy he's a competent and functional human being. Plus he's burst into tears a lot. Also he freaked out and threw himself in a river.

So he gets where this is coming from.

Not the 'why do you think I'm your problem' on Wars' part, but certainly the 'why do you think I'm a problem.'

Speaking of, the Captain has decided Four has had enough happy dog time to be approachable. Four dumps the last of the feed he'd offered to take to the goats in their trough and turns to him.

Wars gives him a smile, he can't tell if it's real or not, "Feeling any better this morning?"

He goes to say four different things and stumbles on the answer, a stuttering nonsense ending in a cough. Wars waits, Four hates it.

Deep breath, he tries again, "I don't know. I guess?" He's not worse at least.

The Captain accepts that with a little hum, "I see you've made a friend." He scratches Maribelle behind the ears in just the right spot to set one of her rear legs thumping and she's fighting to keep standing as she wiggles.

He lights up, she's just so cute and clever and— Wait, is he doing the Red sparkle eyes?

'They're OUR sparkle eyes'

Wars is looking at him with an amused grin and oh no, he was. He must have been.

'Never dull your sparkle,' Red tells him.

'Break his kneecaps so he takes us seriously,' Blue advises as an alternative.

"Um!" Four manages to pull together, scrambling for something to change the topic, "D-did you figure out why we're here?"

The Captain considers for a moment, "Not exactly. There's another Link here somewhere, but people don't like it if I ask too many questions."

"You don't say."

Wars gives him a wry smile, "We're all products of our time and place. How's Legend doing?"

He raises an eyebrow, "Why would you ask me instead of him?"

"Because he doesn't want to talk to me, but I think he'll talk to you."

Well he was right about that. What to say? He didn't exactly drop any deep dark secrets on him that he needs to hide, but also they did talk about Wars a bunch so… "He's pissed."

"That seems fair. Is he going to do something stupid about it?"

Four gives that some consideration and decides, "No. No, I don't think so."

"Good."

It suddenly occurs to Four, if he is straight off 'something big' and so is Legend, then what's the case with Wars? What was he doing yesterday before the portal took him. Is he even in the same situation, or have things been different for him. Certainly he's been treating Legend and himself as somehow separate from him.

Maybe it's his fault, maybe this is just another part of his time war. How long ago even was that?

So he asks, "And you? What have you come from?"

"A war," he answers easily.

"Did we win?" Green butts in, "Hyrule, I mean." He clarifies the 'we'.

"We did."

"…Good job."

He gives that barked laugh again, the real one, "Thank you."

In spite of himself Four likes that. "Are we here because of that? Your war? What was it about?"

"No, I don't think so. That's over and done," he pushes off the fence paling and gives him that false smile, "I'll let you get back to it."

Four can't find the words, can't find the questions, before he's gone.

Chapter Text

Four picks through a pile of scrap looking for some way to be helpful and maybe do some repairs around the place. Everyone's been so nice, it'd be good to return the favour and contribute.

The state of the metalworking here is… pretty not great. It's interesting, varied. He knows that technological advancement is not a straight line, but even so something is… wrong. He wishes had a forge where he could properly make and test some things. He wishes he could sit someone down and ask 'hey, tell me about your history' without that being such a weird thing to say.

But then, they do already think he's weird…

At least he's doing better than yesterday. He hasn't even choked trying to breathe once today!

He's pulling some rusted barrel bands from the scrap pile when Maribelle gives an odd little 'whuff' sound, lifts her head, ears and nose twitching, then trots away from him and the stable tent. Odd. Four follows her.

She picks her way along the river and past the small hill to the south of the stable. They reach a beaten dirt road and she starts to whine high in her throat.

"What's the matter, hey?" Four asks.

She, of course, does not answer.

Something is wrong and it occurs to him maybe he should not have come out here alone. He doesn't have his sword. (He barely has his mind.) They haven't gone far though, it wouldn't take long to get back.

Maribelle starts to trot along faster. The road seems reasonably well travelled, not a major road by his standards, but cleared and beaten enough that it must see a reasonable amount of use.

They're still some way off when he sees and recognises what it is she must have smelled from the stable.

Four sprints the rest of the distance, or tries to, he trips over his own stupid feet then scrambles back up and takes the rest at a jog, cursing under his breath. Maribelle circling him with that worried whine.

He confirms the worst. Two people lie dead on the road near a wooden bridge across the river. A man and a woman in travelling clothes, a large pool of blood beneath the two of them. The woman's arm is cut clean off, cause of death obvious. The dog trots around them all, agitated.

He feels splinters and cracks forming in his mind, hushed voices arguing. He turns the man's body over, to check his wounds, a deep, long slash down his chest. He can see bone and more. Other details, other injuries are lost to him as he realises what this is.

Sword wounds. They were both cut down with a sword.

The blood is still fresh, the bodies not yet cold.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He needs to get away.

A laugh cuts through the natural sounds of birdsong and the river.

He once again reaches for a sword that isn't there, but this time holds himself together when he realises his mistake.

There's a loud bang and Four startles as three people, men he thinks but can't be sure, appear near the bridge, seemingly from nowhere. Bringing with them clouds of sparks and smoke. One of them a big guy, and two of them smaller, all dressed in deep red jumpsuits and white masks. All armed, the bigger guy with a long blade of some kind, one with a shorter sword (a kodachi?), and the last with a vicious looking little sickle.

Now Four may be crazy (probably), but he is not an idiot (probably).

He doesn't recognise these people, but anyone dressed like that appearing with a sinister cackle with drawn weapons where two people have recently been murdered is bad news.

"Glory to Master Kohga!" they declare together.

Eh?

He goes to ask who they are, who that is, what they want, anything, but stumbles over the words. Too much internal disagreement about what to say. He shifts his footing in the puddle of blood.

'Let's not pretend like they wanted to talk,' Blue growls.

Four reaches into his bag, taking hold of Red's fire rod again. He should be able to—

The two smaller ones vanish.

Fuck.

'Teleport!' The realisation tinted Violet, 'Move!'

Four leaps back, kicking up blood as one of the swordsmen appears slicing down where he was a moment before, the other burst back into existence a second later later a short distance away and cuts off the way back towards the stable. Not that there's any way he could outrun them.

It's one part instinct, one part training that saves him from the blade of wind that cuts across the road towards him, gouging the earth as it does.

Instead of it slicing him in half it only catches him on the periphery as he dodges out of the way, falling into a roll only half on purpose to escape it. It burns like friction where the edge catches his right arm.

He leaps back to his feet with a sharp inhale, realising it was the big guy attacking from a distance.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

HOW DID HE MANAGE TO FIND ANOTHER FIGHT?

Maybe he does need a babysitter.

'We're Link or we're Blue, got it?' Green says, 'We can't afford to be swapping in a fight.'

If they had a sword the plan might be different, but as they are, unarmed save for the items they have in their bag, when it might get messy and desperate, they'll cede control to Blue. Or at least they agree to try.

Green can probably hold himself back better than Blue can, and not being in a battle for control mid-fight is a priority. They all understand.

Maribelle is growling and barking loud enough to wake the dead.

"HOME!" He yells at the her, "Get help!"

Four doesn't know how to word it so she understands, he just hopes she goes and causes a commotion and doesn't get killed. Does he even want someone to come? He doesn't want anyone from the stable to get hurt. The Captain or Legend might be able to help though. If these people are killing travellers on the road the he needs someone to stop them if he can't manage it.

A shudder runs through him and he cracks apart at the thought of having to kill them. Oh no.

Blue seizes control (teamwork, yay!) and a funnel of flame shoots from the fire rod towards the closer two fighters. The one with the sword blocks it, though he thinks it still hurts.

Meanwhile the fighter with the sickle vanishes and reappears in a brimstone cloud. He gets a moment of relief, it's not near him, when they realise as one he's going for Maribelle. Looking to shut her up perhaps.

He's once more Four as he drops the fire rod and yanks Vio's bow and quiver out of his bag, dropping the latter and scattering arrows. One he catches by the fetches, and with one smooth motion lifts the bow, draws the arrow, and lets it loose.

It flies true and there's a moment of deep relief as he's done at least one thing right, at least one thing as good as he was able to before. The arrow sinks deep into the man's sword arm and he yells sharply, then vanishes in a flash like a fire cracker. Gone? He doesn't know, but he thinks he interrupted the pursuit.

It costs him.

Another of those windblade attacks tears across the battlefield and cuts a line across him gouging one thigh like its been sandblasted, and knocks him down. His tunic, spelled with some defence fortunately, has absorbed the worst of the attack which means he's bruised rather than bleeding across his front.

No chance to catch his breath, there's that tell-tale smell of sulphur and heat again. He lunges for the dropped fire rod and brings it up, holding it like a staff, in time to block the smaller swordsman as he appears above him, swinging down with the weight of gravity and landing feet either side of Four when the blow doesn't connect.

He grunts and kicks out to destabilise them, and swings the fire rod around enough to force him to back off when he activates it. The blade skitters across his right knuckles as it slides off the fire rod, fuck, ow, ow! And the attacker disappears once more.

Four rolls to his feet, dodging a windblade he didn't even realise was coming in the rush to get back up. Did he lose fingers? No. Good. He flexes them. Fucking hurts, but they work.

The smaller fighter once again appears in that could of sparks and smoke and lines him up. Four knows a rush attack when he sees one and readies the fire rod again, holding it tight in his uninjured hand.

It all happens very fast.

The swordsman speeds in at a full speed sprint, a little magically enhanced Four thinks, almost like using Pegasus boots. He sidesteps and catches the blade with the fire rod as the swordsman overshoots his dashing strike, using the force of it to pivot him before it's ripped from his hand and sent skittering away.

With other hand he reaches into his bag and catches the handle of Blue's hammer, pulls it free, then still with the same momentum from the turn, slams it into the back of the killer's head.

Bone crunches and gives way, a skull shatters like an egg. He's dead before he hits the ground.

Four's mind breaks apart with it.

Because that was a person.

And it was to save himself, whatever that means now, and it was deserved, and this wasn't the first death at his hands.

But it was still a person.

That's a person's brains and skull that's splattered over his sleeves.

Green seizes control and lunges to grab the fallen man's sword. For moment they're Link again at the shared disdain for the blade. Who did this shoddy work? It's not even properly balanced. He bets it's brittle, probably low quality steel. He doesn't have the time to properly critique it.

He's Green again, and the blade in his hands is too long, a hand-and-a-halfer for someone his size whereas the Four Sword is a one-hander, and a curved single edge where the Four Sword is a double-edged straight sword.

Definitely not suited to him. But it's still a sword and he's among the best swordsmen he knows, and it's more suited to this kind of fight than the hammer. He'll take it.

He feels the agreement from Blue, the relinquishing of the fight to him. They have a sword in their hands now, and Blue will trust him with their collective life.

Only the big guy left.

Another windblade attack cuts towards him, and Green dodges out of the way, then another. If he had the Four Sword he thinks he could deflect it, maybe even if he was Green instead of part of Link right now he'd be able to to something. Air was his element after all. But this sword is dull to his magic senses.

He steps back on his injured leg with a flinch and the big guy laughs at the motion and takes a bit step forward then another. He can't run, can't turn his back in the open where he'll be cut down, he's not sure how well his legs would hold up regardless. How much damage has that burning, cutting wind done?

The man's not standing back anymore, taking step by strong step towards Green. Closer and closer. Shooting another windblade at him every few steps, getting harder and harder to dodge. Blood runs down his wrist from his injured hand as he flexes his fingers on the sword.

He can't stay on the defensive, the other guy has too many advantages, uninjured with a much longer blade. He feels the others watching, waiting, doing their best not to distract him. What a weight of responsibility, what a way to finally learn some self preservation instincts, huh?

He lunges in, bringing up his blade to deflect the longer one, moving in to try to get beneath the man's guard. Cut, slash, parry, defect.

And then he's forced to block, and they're locked sword to sword, the two blades crossed between them.

The man presses his weight down, and he's so much bigger and heavier than Link. He can't win this on strength! He's going to slip, he's going to be cut down! His arms tremble, he can feel the others frantically trying to think of some way to break the deadlock.

Maribelle sinks her teeth into the man's thigh.

His sword slips, the pressure weakening, the angle jerking. It's the opening Green needs, he slides his own blade out from underneath it, pushing it away. A deflection of the weight, not even a proper parry, and with two quick steps moves in close. He cannot hesitate, not when the others are counting on him. The unfamiliar blade slips up under the ribs, deep into the man's core, then he jerks it down, slicing his chest open almost to his back. Blood sprays in a torrent, hot and close and soaking him.

The body drops and he loses the sword, too slow to pull it out before it hits the ground. It rips through his back as he lands and Green takes a step back, gagging. He's okay with blood, but he's not alone in himself and ohhhh this is a lot. This was not a clean fight.

But they're alive.

He spits out a blood and saliva, and it does little to remove the taste in his mouth. It's on his face, in his hair, all along his front and hands. He feels sick. Maribelle barks and dances around them, unsure if there's more danger.

'Swap. I got it,' Blue tells them and ghosts to the front as Red and Vio tug Green back to them, holding him tight.

He'll need to grab a weapon in case the last one comes back and—

Movement.

He twists towards it, reaching into his bag for anything to use. But the figure rushing to him is in blue and green. The Captain.

Ah, they can stop now. Blue's legs give way and he falls to his knees (ok, whose fault was that?), the fight finally done. He looks up to meet the Captain's gaze.

"Wind," Wars breathes as he reaches him, looking him over frantically. Injured, drenched in blood, and surrounded by corpses as he is.

The least in control of himself he's seen the Captain so far.

Blue blinks at him and turns his eyes to the gouges in the earth caused by the big guy's windblade attack. "Sure was."

Wars' expression shifts, but Blue is no good at reading what it means, "Are you okay?"

"Uhhh—"

Legend comes skidding in belatedly, and comes to a pin wheeling stop in the middle of the carnage.

A moment's silence as he takes in the scene, then "Fuuuuuuuck."

He goes to check the bodies.

"What happened?" Wars asks, "Why did you wander off?"

Blue growls at that, do not treat them like some disobedient child. "Fuck you. 'Wander off.' I'm not your ward."

Wars scowls at him, "Be that as it may you are in no stat—"

"Well considering I'm the one who won—!"

"Link," Legend cuts in, and points to the dead travellers, "Did you kill these people?"

"No!"

"Cool. Did you kill these people?" He points to the two men in red.

"Yes." Blue won't feel bad about that. He won't. They would have killed him, Link, whatever.

"Did they kill these people?" He indicates the first group again.

"Seemed pretty fucking likely given they tried to kill me!"

"How did you know something was here?"

"I followed the dog." Said dog appears beside him and tries to lick his face, he pushes her away and leaves red hand prints on her white coat. He doesn't want to get her all bloody, he doesn't want— Wars grabs her and pulls her back.

"Was it just these two?" Warriors asks.

"Three, one didn't come back after I shot him. Teleporting bastard."

The Captain looks displeased with that.

"Huh, good job not dying," Legend comments.

'They were dressed the same, whatever this is is a group, and he could have reported back what happened. They might come for us,' Vio supplies.

Ah. Fuck.

Blue realises he's started shaking, unsure if it's exhaustion or pain or just the adrenaline burning out.

It's mostly, but definitely not entirely, Red, that bursts into tears. Again. They almost died, they almost died! They had to fight in this state and they got attacked for no reason and those poor people! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, and they're all gross and they killed people and they want to go HOME. They can't even hug the dog because they're all covered in blood!

Why do things keep happening?!

The Captain startles at the sudden sobbing, then after a moment starts to get down, presumably to comfort him or tell him to suck it up, before the tears are abruptly interrupted.

"FOR FUCKS SAKE STOP CRYING! WE ALREADY HAD OFFICIAL CRYING HOURS!" Blue yells at the sky.

Wars freezes, "Four, it's okay to—"

"One moment please," Green cuts him off with a polite smile.

'That just made us look more unhinged than staying Blue,' Vio points out.

'Everyone just stop!' 'You stop!' 'Please can we get clean?' 'Who were they?' 'We killed someone again' 'We had to!' 'It's gross, it's gross, it's gross, please guys I don't want to taste it anymore.' 'We're hurt, we need to deal with that.' 'Do we have a potion?' 'Ask Legend or Wars.' 'That sucked. We did so bad, we can fight better than that, how are we supposed to get by?' 'Maribelle almost got hurt.' 'She did great.' 'We're gonna have to explain this.' 'What if they come for us?' 'We won a fight like this though.' 'Guys, seriously, the blood loss? Our leg's still bleeding'

"Do you need to go back in the river?"

What.

All four of them short circuit, dumbfounded. Does he think that—?

Four starts laughing, and he's Four again, hysterical at the idea that Wars thinks he needs to be thrown into the river to switch off the crazy.

That is absolutely the funniest thing he's heard all day. He curls over himself wheezing, even as it hurts.

"So you did throw him in the river!" Legend accuses, brandishing his sword at the Captain for emphasis and Four laughs harder.

"What? No I was just there when he… fell," he finishes lamely, sounding even more suspicious that before.

Oh, oh he can't breathe.

"You alright there, small fry?" Legend asks.

He waves with one hand and gives him the finger with the other as the laughter dies out and he catches his breath, then looks up, knowing Wars will be checking his eyes.

"Fine. That did it."

"Did what?"

"Nothing. Either of you got a potion?" Four climbs to his feet as they rummage around in their bags, just to prove he can. Whoops, should not have done that, everything is spinning. That blood loss really is a thing, huh? He looks down at his blood stained everything and realises he does, in fact, need to go back in the river.

Chapter Text

Warriors gives him a waterskin to wash out his mouth, followed by the worst tasting potion he's ever had. Blegh! He knows they're meant to put things in these to make them palatable, right? Anyway, he drinks it in order to not die, and his wounds close, and ohthatfeelssomuchbetter.

Then the Captain thinks aloud for a bit about how this is not good and he and Legend argue about the specific nature of the 'not good'. Four doesn't pay attention, he's trying not to stare at the bodies or be sick or fall apart. He's doing a great job! They're all proud of him. Then Legend helps him drag himself over to the river as Wars heads back to the stable.

He takes off his belt and bags and boots, then in he goes, still fully dressed because it just seems easier, to get himself clean. He ducks under as soon as he's deep enough and scrubs at his face with his hands.

Maribelle joins him, she's such a good girl! He gives her a proper hug and thanks, then cleans the blood off her muzzle. "You saved my life, yes you did!" She goes back to trying to lick him and this time he lets her.

He forgot to grab his soap, but the thought of directing Legend to go through his bag to find it is too much right now so he just scrubs at his skin and hair with his finger nails.

He drifts downstream under the bridge to be not so obviously in sight as Wars comes back with some of the stable people. Legend runs interference before they can come bother him, glowering everyone away from the river and dumping his things on the downstream side of the bridge, mostly out of sight.

The older boy crouches on the riverbank, holding Blue's hammer in the water without comment and allowing the river to wash away the gore, before laying it down with the rest of Four's things.

He thinks… he gets a lot of points for that. For all the bitterness and picking fights, for all the misdirected anger; maybe he's a good person dealing with a lot. Or not dealing.

Four strips off most of his clothes, still stained, probably ruined, and hauls himself out of the water to get dressed. Maribelle shakes herself off and keeps close, he appreciates that too, keeping one hand on the scruff of her neck.

Legend tosses him a blue tunic that Four immediately three-quarters hates, and makes is abundantly clear it's just a loan and he expects it back. Like he's afraid he'll break out in hives if he's too nice about it.

Four puts it on anyway, because he's cold and upset and has been in enough fights today.

The defensive spells on it are stronger than anything he's ever owned.

Oh no.

Now he wants to hug him.

Then Legend throws a nail brush at him and laughs when it bounces off his forehead.

Nevermind.

He emerges and Wars looks at him with some closed off, unreadable expression. He… he's not sure what he did, what that's about. Maybe it's just all the freak outs and abrupt switches and the guy finding him in a pool of blood. Actually, yeah, Four's made it weird. That explains it.

The bodies have been covered and he's inordinately grateful, even if it wasn't actually for him.

Then comes the fussing. Legend abandons his crowd control and Four is bundled up and put on a mule for the, frankly rather short, walk back to the stable. Where he's sat down in front of the fire and given a warm drink (again), and a towel to dry his hair, while everyone talks and worries over him. Maribelle lays over his legs and is rewarded for her heroism with a big goat bone.

Link had not been a quiet person, Link would not have sat here with Vio's silent watchfulness, cleaning the blood from under his nails as all these people hovered and revolved around him. Giving polite reassurances he would be fine and was just a little shaken, he'd had weapons training and a potion had taken care of everything. He screws it up though, Red is too close to the surface. 'This isn't just me.'

Legend follows them back but does not partake in the fussing, looking over the noticeboard instead and generally pretending it's just a coincidence he's here. Like a cat.

They learn those people were from a group called the Yiga. Their numbers and aggression have been up and down over the last few years. The locals talk about trying to contact Link, the one they haven't met, about it, but he seems hard to get hold of. They mention sending messages to Hateno, or Lookout Landing and maybe it'll find him.

Warriors comes back and logistics happen. The bodies need to be burned, or returned to their people for the travellers. There's a network of stables and word will be sent. The travellers were carrying details, 'If I am killed on the road here's who to contact.' He doesn't like they felt they needed to, he doesn't like how familiar everyone is with the emergency plan. This is not the first time something like this has happened. It unsettles him.

Legend sits down beside Four and holds out a printed notice to him. It's a poster with two images; one of a young woman, the other of a young man, and text written beside them. They seem familiar somehow.

The picture of the man has been crossed out and something written in the same ink.

"Can you read this?" Legend asks.

Four shakes his head. The alphabet used is completely foreign to him.

"Hey," Legend calls to the stable master ('Ember,' Red supplies), and holds up the poster, "What's this about?"

"Hmm?" He wanders over for a better look, "Ah. Those two were missin'. You ever meet Link and Miss Zelda?"

Vio seizes control and holds him calm before he can startle. Legend doesn't flinch.

"'fraid not. From a very minor little settlement ya know? Heard of them a little." Legend waves away the question, "'Were' missing?"

"Link turned up, so far as I know 'e's still looking for the young miss. Maybe now the castle's lookin' normal again he'll find somethin' there."

'The Castle!' Vio realises, and more importantly, 'LIBRARY!'

'We are not here to steal future knowledge,' Green grumbles.

'No, it's just a bonus. And a service to our Kingdom'

'You're meant to say that first,' Blue needles him.

'We can't even read it,' Green adds.

'But it's spoken the same, so if it's just a different alphabet all we need to do is learn it.'

'Pay attention,' Red pokes, 'It's about Zelda.'

"What do you mean by normal?" Legend is asking.

"Well s'not floating in the air anymore," Ember says with a chuckle.

Legend blinks at that, "Eh?"

"And you've been seein' gloom round, right?"

"Yeah," He rolls with it, "Nasty stuff."

Okay, so they're all lying liars. Vio just nods along with him.

"Whole place was drippin' with it. That place looked evil, you know? Somethin' rotten an' toxic," the man shudders, "made my skin crawl, reminded us all of the Calamity."

Vio can hear the capital 'C' in Calamity there, and that can't be good.

"But it's fixed?" Legend continues.

"Seems to be. Back to how it was this time last year. News'll trickle in I'm sure."

"I hope he finds her soon then."

"Me too. She's a good lass."

'My turn!' Red steps up to take control before anyone can stop him, "What's Link like?"

Ember laughs, "Interesting. Impossible lad. Good man, but every wild rumour of him turns out to be true. Sometimes you meet people who are just built different to the rest of us."

"Ember!" A woman calls from across the tent, "Where'd you put the spare tack after fixing it?"

He gets up, "Back to work. You lads take care."

With that he and Legend are alone again, as much as they can be as the stable bustles around them.

"Hmmm," Legend hums, "A young woman in distress, huh? Zelda no less."

"It's a lead," Four agrees. Oh, he's back to Four.

The Captain sticks his head in the tent and gives them a wave, beckoning. Legend sighs and gets up.

Four extracts himself from under the dog. Maribelle lifts her head and he gives it a rub, "Stay. We're just going outside."

She grumbles but settles back down, and he follows Legend and Warriors out to a lone tree near the goat pen.

"How are you doing?" The inevitable question.

"I'm fine." The inevitable platitude.

The Captain raises an eyebrow.

"It's been A Day. I'm not worse." Honestly, what's he supposed to say?

Wars leans back against the tree, "We need to talk about what comes next."

"They might come for me." Four realised that a while ago.

"Yes."

He appreciates he's not sugar coating it. "So I need to get out before I bring them down on the people here."

"We are getting out."

"You don't have to." Four is really not his responsibility, he doesn't want to be a burden or a charity case or whatever. And he doesn't want to be… he doesn't know. A soldier, a tool. Wielded by someone else. But him being here means it's too late isn't it? Already a piece that's been moved. At least the other times he chose it.

"You don't want the company?" He cracks a small smile.

"Maybe he doesn't want yours," Legend interjects.

"Are you going to watch out for him then?"

"I don't need protecting." He's not sure that's true, and he hates that so, so much. He feels the cracks forming and stop it, stop it, stop it. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about what happened or what will happen if they come back for you. You can save yourself. Do not fall apart mid-conversation again.

The Captain makes a face Four has seen many times in his life (lives?), a 'Din, grant me strength' face, a 'Nayru grant me patience' face. Farore is not needed, the man's not afraid of Four.

"Four, Link, we know you're capable. We know you're not some little kid just starting out. But the three of us were dropped here together for a reason, even if we don't know what it is yet. You don't even have a sword and—"

"You move like someone's punched you in the head," Legend chips in. Both Four and Warriors glare at him.

"I'm not concussed. It's not brain damage," Four hisses at him, outraged.

"Then what is it?" Legend asks, unflinching.

And he gives in, because what does it matter? What does any of it matter?

"It's having my soul cut to pieces and then it not fitting the fuck back together right!"

He's too mad to shut up, too mad to hide it, too mad to burst into tears and wallow in it. He's so tired of crying, so tired of feeling pathetic and ineffectual. Legend's right, it's better to be angry. It all comes at once in a wave.

"And now I'm all that's left! They're dead and Dad's dead and Shadow's dead and I'm time travel kidnapped and ninjas are trying to kill me for no reason and I look like an ABSOLUTE FUCKING MADMAN and I hate it! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! I want to be Link again, or them again, and I'm not either!

And I saved Zelda! And I saved Hyrule, and I beat Ganon and Vaati, and now I can't even run without tripping over my own stupid fucking feet and everyone is treating me like some idiot child made of glass!"

Wars goes to say something, Four doesn't know what. Some platitude, some lie.

But Legend, Legend grins at him, "Would the river hel—"

"I AM GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE!"

"With your coordination?"

And really, there's only one thing to do.

Four tackles him to the ground to make good on his threat. Legend's bigger, and proves to have a surprisingly good punch, but Four's had a lot of these kind of fights over the past few months. Within moments the whole thing dissolves into wrestling and fisticuffs in the dirt. No weapons are drawn, they don't actually want to kill each other, just the two of them mad and trying to hit a guy about it.

Warriors move out of the way with a sigh and some grumbled '—no better when they're older,' comment.

Eventually Legend's foot catches Four in the stomach and they roll apart, before they can lunge back at each other the Captain steps between the two of them.

"Okay, pack it up. People are starting to notice."

Legend glowers at him but his shoulder hunch when he realises that a few people are indeed looking over at them with concern. Wars waves them off, then after a moment, Four does the same. He's probably the one they're worried about.

"Do you two feel better?"

"Yes," Four grudgingly admits, because he really, truly does. His knuckles are scraped, he's winded, he's sure he's got a massive pinched bruise on one bicep, and smaller ones everywhere else, but somehow he's less upset than before.

He realises this didn't break him apart.

Maybe it wasn't just the crying session he needed.

"Are we all going to pack up and leave together before our presence brings trouble down on the nice people?" The Captain continues.

"Fine," Legend sniffs, poking at a reddening bruise on one cheek, that's gonna be a nice shiner.

"Fine," Four echos.

Wars looks over the both of them, judging if they're actually hurt and how likely they are to start fighting again. They pass whatever mental checklist he's running.

"Make up with each other if you need it. Get your things together, say your goodbyes. Let's leave before dark." And with that he leaves them to sort themselves out, heading back to the tent presumably to lament with the other adults about teenage boys.

"Bossy prat," Legend grumbles.

"Got you in the face," Four points out. Now who's uncoordinated?

Legend smirks at him, but it just feels smug, not mean. Like fighting with Vio. No, not just Vio he realises, it felt like fighting amongst himself again. Legend gets back to his feet and turns on his heels with an easy swaying step, and Four wonders if maybe he needed that too.

"It was your elbow so it doesn't count."

ꕤ

They say their goodbyes. Everyone fusses over him again, which part of him kind of likes and part of him kind of loathes.

He won that fight, he killed those people, he's not helpless or sheltered, damn it! But he's small and young and quiet (Ha! Never thought he'd be that one), and he got hurt and has generally come across as a sad wet cat, so he gets it.

He goes around and says goodbye to everyone individually because his Ma taught him to be polite like that.

Then gives Maribelle a final hug and pat and reiterates what a good dog she is. He wishes he had treats to give her, but Ember promises to spoil her in his stead, then loads him up with some food for the trip.

Finally they set off, back in the direction of where the portal dropped them.

"Any thoughts on where we should go?" Wars asks after only a few minutes.

"Hyrule Castle," says Four immediately, thinking of the library.

"Agreed," Legend seconds.

"Were unanimous then," the Captain agrees, bemused.

So they follow the roads north towards Hyrule Castle, though they can only see it from the hills. Hyrule field is indeed, way too big. A grassland dotted with small forests and lakes. It's beautiful, it's enormous.

The weather is lovely and pleasant, and the road easy, so they keep walking even as it gets dark. He thinks Warriors is enjoying it, unwinding a little bit as they make their way across the vast, empty landscape to the sound of the night creatures.

The Captain walks in front, then himself, then Legend at the rear, the moon bright, a little past full, to light their way.

He misses the Colours beside him with four different hearts.

They're at the top of a hill, walking along the ridge and looking out over the field with the idea of picking somewhere to camp when he feels something. Like being watched, but it's a warmth not a threat. A familiarity. He stops and turns letting his eyes be drawn towards… a light, a star.

No, not a star, it's moving too fast.

Legend stops and looks back, searching for what it is that Four's noticed, then Warriors realises and turns back too. "What is it?"

"You don't feel it?" Four asks.

"Feel what?" Legend sounds curious, not doubting him, forgetting his hostility and cynicism for a moment.

Four points to the sky, tracing the light.

It takes them a moment to find it then, "Comet?" Legend wonders aloud, "No, too slow. Witch with a lantern?"

"Monster, perhaps." Four can hear the frown in the Captain's voice.

He just waits, watching, lingering, even as the others start to get impatient. And oh. "It's a dragon."

It becomes more clear with each moment, the dragon drawing closer and closer. It, she, for something in him whispers it's a 'she,' is a being of white and gold, of magic, of Light.

He thinks she might be the most beautiful creature he's ever seen.

None of them go to move anymore, transfixed. She passes directly overhead and he feels the song of her magic, massive and ancient.

It calls to his, it resonates through his soul.

Yet there is something discordant there marring the Light of her being, a slight clouding. A note a little off key, a drop of dark ink in white paint.

'She's holding one of her arms funny,' whispers Red, and he realises it's true as Red thinks it. Her front left leg held against her while the others are loose.

He glances at Legend for a moment to find the other boy watching the dragon with wonder. Warriors is smiling gently at her.

Off she glides into the distance. He doesn't know how long he would have stood there watching, until she vanished from sight he supposes. But she doesn't. She crosses over Hyrule field then her path changes and she turns, curling a rising spiral in the night sky.

She stops high over the castle, hanging like her own constellation among the stars.

Chapter Text

Link dreams of the Sword, of the mirror phantoms who stood by his side, becoming more and more real with each passing year, with each time he picked it up. It hadn't hurt when it finally cut him apart. Looking back maybe it should have, but souls don't have nerve endings do they? It had been a unravelling of his being, of soul and mind, flesh and bone. It hadn't hurt, but he had felt it.

What had become of him? Where had Link gone when suddenly he was four? Not his soul or mind or heart, not any of those immaterial things, what became of his flesh and blood? For the Colours were him in form, they stood as tall as him, weighed as much as him. So where had the excess mass come from?

The magic of the Sword.

It had built them, and then it had unwound them, and rebuilt him. He had felt all of that too. But he was not the same, Four's body was almost six months older than Link's, he had aged with the Colours. His hair was longer, his muscle conditioning a little different after so long on the road instead of at the forge. His old bones are gone. He is remade, born of magic.

He thinks perhaps, he has died five times now.

He is full of ghosts.

'You are being dramatic,' Blue opines, 'Let it be known I am no part of this.'

'Well excuse us our introspection,' Vio snips back.

"Good morning everyone," Four mouths to himself as they fade back into him.

He sits up and untangles himself from his bedding, blinking in the dawn light and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It's chill in the early morning way and quiet in that un-quiet way of birds and insects waking with the sun. He finds Legend beside him and frowns, lifting his eyes to see Wars awake a short distance away, watching the distant sunrise.

Four gathers himself up, wraps a blanket around himself, and walks over to sit by him. "I thought Legend had third watch."

"He did," Wars replies softly, "but I woke up early and offered to take over."

He frowns, "You should have slept more."

"Yes, but it's not always my choice."

Four squints at Legend, and whispers back to the captain, "I don't think he's sleeping."

"I don't think so either, but rest is rest."

Four just hums at that and looks to the castle, now unadorned. "Where'd the dragon go?"

"It left at first light, heading north."

He just hums again and draws his knees up, resting his chin on them and pulling the blanket tighter. Wars pulls a blanket off his own pile of bedding and wraps it around him too.

"How are you going?" The question is a real question, a status report question not polite small talk.

"I'm not worse."

"That's where we're setting the bar?" The man's tone lightly teasing.

"Captain, it has been less than two days," Four pouts at him.

"How do we help?"

"I don't know," He turns his gaze back to the sunrise, "I don't know anything. I'm working it out as I go."

"You said a lot of things before you tackled Legend."

Four sinks his head deeper into the blanket cocoon.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

…does he? It doesn't matter does it? They're not going to think he's any more unhinged than he already is, it'll explain it if anything. Is it a secret? But why should he be a secret? What is there worth hiding? It's not like he has the Sword.

Legend shifts, he doesn't turn to face him, but he's obviously awake and listening.

Four speaks to his feet instead of them, not looking up, he doesn't want to see, doesn't want to break apart. "When I picked up the Sword… the thing the Four Sword does is… turn one wielder into four. There was one Link, then I picked up the Sword, and there were four.

They weren't copies, I mean, physically they were the same as me, but my personality, soul, whatever else, got split between the four of them. They were their own people for the months it took to save Princess Zelda and defeat Ganon and Vaati, and then it was over."

Wars digests this and comes to the correct conclusion, "You're not one of the four, are you?"

"No. They put the Swords back and recombined, oh, about ten seconds before I fell through a portal."

"The. Fuck." Four lifts his eyes and finds Legend is facing him now, eyes open, still tucked into his bedding, he seems a little pale.

"Yeah!" He agrees, "Hi. My name is Link. Six months ago I was one person, two days ago I was four people. I don't think the recombination worked like it was supposed to, and now I'm…" He fidgets his hands, restless and anxious, they are fracturing in the back of his mind, "I keep breaking apart."

"What does that mean?" Wars asks calmly.

He pulls the blanket up like a hood to hide under, courage wavering.

"You already saw it, right?" He mumbles, and mentally berates himself for not just stepping up and owning it. Too much of him is unsure.

"Your eyes changing colour."

Four nods.

"Along with your personality." The man puts it together piece by piece.

He doesn't actually think he can sink deeper into the blankets, hiding his face behind his knees. This was a mistake. Now they know and he doesn't know what that's going to mean. Maybe they'll use it against him, or they'll think he's too much bother, or they'll pity him. Maybe they'll leave him behind. Does he want that? Yes. No. He doesn't want to be alone.

He doesn't want to be alone!

There's a shifting, a warm body beside him, and then there's a weight on his head and back. The Captain's wrapped an arm around him, resting one hand on his head and rubbing it gently. It's tentative, unsure, he doesn't know if this is the right thing to do. They're virtual strangers after all, but Four will take anything and leans into it. Comfort is comfort, even from a man he does not know, and does not know if he can trust.

Arms are wrapped around him and he weeps quietly to himself just a little bit, hidden away under the blankets. He's real bad at stopping that, huh? He wishes he had better control over it, why does everything have to feel so much?

He hears Legend sitting up and shifting out of his bedding. "Okay, you win, your day was worse. But like, only just."

"It's not a competition, Legend," Wars scolds.

"Four. Take a vote. Is it a competition?"

'It's not.' 'It is.' 'It is because we won.' 'Vio!' 'What!?' 'Green, deciding vote.'

"Two-to-one it's a competition," he sniffles, "one abstains."

"Tell abstainer he's a coward."

Green lifts his head, a break in the cocoon, to glare at him, "It's called being diplomatic."

"I wouldn't know about that sort of thing," Legend replies, completely deadpan.

He's back to Four again and just… incredulous. What do you even say to that? Finally he wheezes and laughs, wiping off his face with his hands and uncurling a little, Wars lets him go. "You're such a dick."

"Wow, so original, I've never heard that one," Legend yawns, "Are we done with feelings, can we go?"

The older boy looks to Wars to find him giving him a curious look and Legend's expression shifts to actively hostile. "What? Don't think I won't set you on fire, pretty boy."

"What for?"

"For however you're planning to use us."

Wars holds up his hands, placating, "I'm not planning anything, I'm as lost as you are. I was just thinking you're an interesting guy."

"Well stop."

"Right, right. Four," the Captain's attention shifts back to him, "do you need more time?"

He thinks he's okay again, he thinks he's been spared speaking more about it. They know. Maybe they don't really understand, but they know and they're acting normal and there's nothing more to be done. He feels a fondness and encouragement from the Colours.

So Four shakes his head, he'd rather get moving. "Let's go."

Wars rubs his head again, "You're doing great."

And with that it's out there, with that they know and carry on like nothing's changed. Maybe it was best to get it out in the open so quickly, before they could think of him as something he wasn't.

Packing up is quick, they didn't make a proper camp. Four shoves his green hat back on and only kind of half hates his outfit. Just gotta find some red and purple, huh?

'We're going to look ridiculous,' Vio laments, 'we have to find another way to deal with this.'

He could just find something undyed maybe, or grey or something like that, but unfortunately he likes colour. Always has.

'What colour is 'Link'?' Red muses, and none of them know. Maybe he is just the cloth to be dyed.

They head north, following the worn dirt road between the long grass, past a small lake and copses of trees. Past ruins and massive slabs of stone that are surely no native part of the landscape. It's beautiful and wild. It's unsettling. He thinks Legend watches him for a while, and he doesn't know what he's thinking, but his focus is shifted to their surroundings soon enough too.

It's Legend that finally breaks the silence as they pass yet more ruins, "Where is everyone?"

Wars tilts his head, "Do you want to look."

With no objections they detour, picking through a destroyed ranch, then following the path to the village it was on the edge of. All burnt out, crushed, destroyed. But not recently. There are no dead and little in the way of possessions. Nothing of value or use.

"This is decades old," the Captain comments, "Maybe, a century even."

"Why has it been left like this?" Four wonders aloud.

"No one needed the land," the man sweeps an arm out to encompass the wide, empty plains.

"There was a cache of new building materials by the road," Four muses, "But this damage is so old."

Legend's ear flicks and he steps back from the buildings he was inspecting, looking unsettled. He reaches into his bag to pull out an ocarina and plays a simple song that hums through Four's bones.

A sad, wistful thing that burns the lingering sleepiness from his brain and makes Wars shiver and stand tall.

The notes of the song fade, nothing happens.

"What was that for?" Four asks.

"Just checking." Legend puts the ocarina away and does not elaborate.

Four can feel Vio ticking away in the back of his mind, reconstructing the song for their own reference.

There is nothing for them here, nothing for anyone.

Wars makes the call, "Let's keep going."

No one argues, they'll all a little creeped out Four thinks. Something very bad happened here, and the signs of it were never hidden or erased. He reminds himself there are people in this land, he knows there are people here. He met them at the stable and they were living normal lives.

But what is this beautiful ruin of a kingdom?

Hyrule Town is worse.

The road passes by it, sitting at the foot of the castle. What's left of it. Every building save for the castle itself lies in ruins, every wall broken, every structure long since picked clean. They didn't rebuild, why didn't they rebuild? What happened here? What became of all the people? What became of his home?

'Calamity,' Vio whispers to him, but all he knows is the word and the tone they spoke of it at the stable, not the nature of the disaster.

Wars puts a hand on his shoulder and he realises two things at once; one, that he has pulled close to him as they walk, and two, that he is crying again. Silent tears running down his cheeks. He wipes them away and more take their place.

Even Legend has drawn up beside them, but he doesn't speak and doesn't cry. He just seems upset and very much trying to look like he's not, trying to paste a scowl on top of it all but he can't get it to stick. The Captain's poker face is better.

One thing stands tall and new and whole. A tower, the likes of which he's never seen, built near the entrance to the ruined Hyrule Town, surrounded by walls and palisades. Wood new enough he can smell a hint of it on the wind as it turns to them. There's movement on the walls, someone lives, someone rebuilds.

"Lookout Landing," Wars tells them, "Let's see if they let us in."

The sun sinks below the horizon and Four feels that flicker of warm magic again. The dragon somewhere far in the distance, coming back to them.

Chapter Text

"Turn the waterworks back on," Legend says in a stage whisper as they follow Wars to the settlement entrance.

"What?" Then Four realises what he's asking for, "Excuse me!?"

"There's no way you can't do that on command," the guy hisses back, "come on, we want to get in, try to look more like a sad wet cat."

"You are the worst!"

"Do you need me to call you names?"

Four kicks for his ankle and is very proud of himself when it connects, if only glancingly as Legend dances away.

"Boys!" Wars calls them, voice cutting into their bickering.

"Oh, I hate that," Legend grumbles and the two of them make their way over to the Captain and the gate guards; a tall, muscular woman with red hair, and a white haired young Hylian man, their clothing styles completely different. An oddly mismatched pair, but he thinks that sort of thing is good.

"Sav'saaba," greets the woman and Four splits in a momentary mental panic wondering if he's if he's supposed to know what that means, "Where're you three hailing from?"

"We've come up from Riverside Stable," Green replies, figuring if they can get in one of the easy questions he won't need to stutter through the hard ones.

'Seriously? We're going to do this by being surprised by a greeting in another language?' Vio laments.

'Apparently,' sighs Blue, 'Green, it's small talk, you can keep it.'

"Your business?" The other guard asks,

"Just travelling, doing some odd jobs here and there," Legend answers, and it's probably even true, "we met on the road."

They note he's cut off any claim Wars might make to them with that.

"We've got news from Riverside too," Wars adds, "There's been a Yiga attack."

The guards glance at each other, and the man makes the call, "Right, come on in. You'll find places to rest and cook downstairs. If you don't mind coming with me…" he directs at Wars.

And with that they're in.

Legend breaks off and Green starts a walk around the interior perimeter, sinking back into Four as he goes. Good job everyone, no one noticed, we have successfully navigated a very short conversation with strangers.

The bar is so low.

'It's still an achievement,' insists Red, 'be proud.'

He looks around for a while, there are ponds, and odd stone monuments, people practising with weapons, some horse stalls. There are… people, he supposes, the likes of which he's never seen before. Some seem aquatic, and others are like birds! But no one's treating it as odd so he just accepts it as part of whenever this is.

There's a ladder down to another section in the centre of the settlement, but instead of chancing that one he climbs the stairs to the wall instead. There's a huge, skinny tower of an odd design. He pokes his head in, looking over the odd glowing blue lights, but he can't see any way to get up, and moves on.

That tower is promptly forgotten, because new Important Discovery.

There is a ginormous telescope.

He thinks he can get up to it even. Around the wall he goes, up a ladder, then another (so much for avoiding them, the fall from this one would be even worse), until he makes it to the top of the telescope tower. The instrument itself sits mounted over the top level, an eye piece hanging down, facing in the direction of the castle.

It's not currently pointed at anything it seems. Looking through the eye piece only reveals dark sky and given how delicate optics can be he's not foolhardy enough to go messing it to point it somewhere else. At least not until he knows who it belongs to. He has visions of breaking it.

So he settles down to sit alone and watch the eastern sky, waiting for that tell tale glimmer to appear on the far horizon. Today was big too, huh? He closes his eyes and leans his head against one of the struts of the tower. One day at a time, one day at a time. He did pretty good. Walked real far, didn't break much, only cried twice.

The bar is so low it's on the floor.

"That device is not a toy young man, you shouldn't be up here it's dangerous," A young woman's scolding voice cuts through his musings.

Four glances back to the ladder with a scowl as a she pulls herself up on to the tower. White hair again, a little odd but that seems to be more common here than in his time, a red and white outfit of a foreign style ('I like her tights' Red tells him), and a strange golden contraption (goggles?) resting on her head.

"I haven't touched the telescope," he tells her. He resisted, okay!

"Then what are you doing here? In case you haven't noticed, the sunset's in the other direction," she glances to the west where indeed the last remnants of a rather nice sunset are fading.

"I'm not watching the sun, I'm watching the dragon come in."

That seems to surprise her a little. "From the east?"

He just shrugs.

"The dragon left to the north this morning."

"I bet you fifty rupees she comes in from the east."

She brandishes a recorder flute (of all things) at him, "You're on."

He grins and offers his hand to shake on it, she does then takes a seat, "You're new. What brings you to Lookout Landing?"

"Thought it'd be interesting, nowhere better to go." Both true enough.

"Well, we're always looking for more staff."

"You work here then?"

"I'm in charge. Got any trades?"

She seems too young to be running the place, but he's hardly one to judge. Besides, it seems to be operating smoothly enough. "I'm a blacksmith."

"You're hired," she says immediately.

"I didn't realise I was applying."

"The youth of today don't want to work, " she flaps a hand dismissively, "we're always looking for smiths and carpenters, and… everything really. Give it some thought."

"I will. Is it your telescope then?"

"Nice isn't it?" She sounds like a proud parent, "Of course the next version will be better but we were in a rush."

"It's huge! What's the altitude range? Can you fully rotate it? How do you grind the lenses?" The questions come spilling out. 'Vio.' 'Shut up, let me have this. You all like it too.'

"The Zora have the capability."

He has no idea who that is.

"Do they do the mirrors too?"

"There's a Goron-Zora joint workshop that did those. Hylians built the frame and fitted the whole thing together. I did the maths."

Okay, he knows Gorons at least, He itches to take it apart and inspect everything properly.

"Can I see the schemati— ah," he spots the moving light on the horizon again, "There she is."

"Hmm?" She stands and squints into the distance, picking it out against the twilight sky.

"Can we use the telescope?" Four asks.

"No, the base doesn't rotate far enough. It wasn't built for that."

So they watch and wait. After a few minutes it's clear it's the dragon again.

"How did you know?" She looks at him curiously.

"Magic." Which is a true answer that sounds fake. What's the study of magic like in this time and place? There's so much he doesn't know and he doesn't like that. There must be pitfalls he can't see.

He's content to just sit and watch as she approaches them and the castle once more. The two of them in silent anticipation. She veers slightly, flying straight overhead again. There's that same soundless song, born of magic far vaster than anything he's known. That same staining wrongness to it. Worse, he thinks. Spreading, growing.

He has a better vantage today, this close to her destination he can see her properly as she curls above the castle. The dragon twists and one back leg scratches at the hurt arm before she settles back into stillness. Is she tense, is she in pain? He can't tell, but something about her body language seems uncomfortable.

"Is she lower today?" He wonders aloud.

"Mmm," the woman makes an unhappy sound of agreement. "Go look in the eye piece would you?"

He rushes over with the permission to properly play with the telescope. It proves to be surprisingly simple to move, all the controls on the eye piece. He lowers the sight, then aligns in with the dragon.

Ironically her glow makes her almost harder to see, the light too bright. The arm (or leg? what do you call it on a dragon?) she's favouring is still held awkwardly, and that shoulder (…hip?) seems… grey, almost. The clean shine of the rest of her body isn't as bright there, darkening almost to black at the very centre. Like the moon in shadow. Something wrong, something wrong for sure.

No creature grows that big in the way of smaller creatures. She does not live off cattle and deer, not even off whales. She is too big. She is magic, and perhaps divinity, and she is sick or hurt or both. He does not like how close to her heart it must be (does she have one? would it be between the first limbs like a lizard?), does not like it being near her head. If it was at her tail maybe she could fight it off before it did much damage but…

He reaches out on instinct, then pulls his hand back. There's nothing he can do. He aches with sympathy.

Seemingly from nowhere, a figure comes soaring down from the dark sky to land neatly in the tower with them, a long-haired man in blue with a dark grey cloak. A kite-like glider somehow arresting his fall.

"Purah," greets the man, "any updates?"

The stranger then realises there is a strange boy there gaping at him.

"Hi!" He says to Four in that bright way people fond of kids do, "Sorry to drop in, we just—"

"Can I see your glider!?" Every part of him wants that thing. Thoughts of the dragon and his strange entrance gone. Sparkle eyes on full power, he doesn't even care. All tools must be utilised for the common goal.

The guy gives a little laugh and hands it to him, and Four immediately sets about figuring out how it fits together and works as he and the woman (Purah evidently) talk.

"—getting worse for sure—" "—she was the only one with that kind of power—"

He opens the glider with a snap and inspects the mechanism. What is this made of? Could he replicate it? There must be magic in it, but he could figure it out. He checks the hinges and how they collapse, the length and strength of the struts. He'll have to copy down a schematic later. Then inspects the fabric; tough and tightly woven. Linen? No, a blend maybe. It's taken the dye really well too, actually the dyes here seem very good, maybe he should look into that.

"—asked the goddess statue?" "—maybe? It was kind of vague, there might be something or someone—" "—use the Light roots—" " She's already in the sun all day."

He snaps the glider back open takes two running steps towards the edge before the guy grabs him by the collar and hauls him back without even looking at him.

Stingy.

Four twists to escape his grasp and is promptly distracted by the guy's arm. It's not a gauntlet like he first dismissed it as, it's a prosthetic. Or— actually he's not even sure he can call it that either.

"I have two-hundred-and-thirty-eight sundelions—" "I refuse to accept the best we can come up with is an enormous bowl of porridge."

Is it organic? It looks alive, but also kind of not really? The things around it (a support structure?) don't look metal but they're not stone or wood either. Bone? No way. Lacquer? That doesn't seem right either. It's neither warm nor cool under his touch.

"So if it's a venom we need to find an antivenom? We'd need a wheelbarrow full. How do you force a dragon to swallow medicine? I can't even get a cat do it it."

"No, it's not poison," Four chips in without looking up from his inspection, "it's contamination in her magic, and something that big is more magic than flesh and blood."

A moment of silence that he only notices in hindsight.

"Young man?" Purah asks.

"Mmm." How is the arm attached anyway? Or is it just changed? He wonders—

"How do you know that?"

"It—" he realises he's been talking and not thinking, he realises the arm he's been inspecting is still attached to a person and he drops it abruptly, "I-I um—"

Internal screaming.

"What do you mean 'contamination'?"

They are both looking at him very intently. He would like to disappear now right. Melt into the floor, jump off a tower. Preferably with the gilder but he's not picky. The odd thought cuts through that maybe he's really not Link. The old Link wouldn't have thought like that, right? He had too much pride.

'Arrogance,' Green corrects, 'We all grew up.'

'We changed so you changed with us.' And doesn't that ache from Vio.

"I am— I mean," Four stutters, "I have the same k-kind of magic. And she flew over last night. And I felt it. Light magic is meant be be um… uniform, clean. Hers has something not… right. Just a little. It was worse today."

The man makes placating motions as Purah's recorder is brandished at Four's face, "You have magic strong and honed enough to pick that apart?"

"Yes?" Granted it's a less common magic alignment to have, most often but not exclusively found in the royal line, but it's not like it's unheard of.

Unless it is in this day and age.

"How do we fix it?" She asks abruptly.

"I don't know, I'm not a dragon vet! Maybe she ate something bad?"

The man shakes his head. "The opposite."

"She ate something good?"

"She got bitten by something bad," he corrects.

"What could possibly bite her?" Four wonders aloud. What has jaws big enough?

"Another dragon."

He looks back to the dragon, to that off colour patch frighteningly close to her vitals, "So the bite got nasty? She doesn't look like she has an open wound though."

"It healed over right away."

Four frowns, considering, "But she's still favouring one leg…"

"It's her shoulder that's the issue, but yes."

"Ideally we would reopen the wound and investigate," Purah comments, "clear out any infection, remove potential foreign contaminants. But she's too big and tough to operate on like you would a normal person."

Four thinks that 'normal person' is a very odd choice of phrase and files it away.

"I don't think I have a weapon that could get through her hide," the man adds.

She turns back to Four, "What happens if this goes on?"

"I'm not certain…"

"If you were to make a guess?"

He… he doesn't like the answer. He's not an expert on such things, at least for his time, but they can probably see it too themselves. "If we're lucky she fights it off herself like an infection." Best case scenario.

"If we're not?"

He steadies himself, "It might kill her, or it might… corrupt. You can…" Don't fall apart, don't fall apart, he feels himself cracking, "Beings can be made of Dark magic too so…"

"I assume neither the outcome nor the process is pleasant?" Her tone is flat, deliberately keeping the emotion out of it.

He just shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. For distraction he looks up at the dragon again, oh great, he can feel bad about that instead of Shadow. He blinks away the tears before they can fall and jabs one thumbnail hard into his other hand, a crescent bruise blooming, trying to ground himself with the pain again. Focus, focus. They give him a moment, figuring he's upset about the dragon.

"How do you know this?" The man asks kindly.

Four just shrugs, "Teachers and books and experience."

"Hmmm?" Hums the woman somewhat doubtfully.

Four gives her a flat look, "I'm older than you probably think."

She gives a smug cat smile, "Me too."

The guy laughs. He has a nice, bright laugh.

The recorder snaps towards Four again. "Do you know who and what she is?"

"A dragon, right? I mean she's not like other kinds I've seen, but that's a dragon."

The man and Purah share A Look. He doesn't know if it mean he said something wrong or if they're not sure if they want to tell him something.

"Um, I am— I mean, I had an odd upbringing so if I'm meant to know her maybe I don't because my parents didn't want to talk about outside things and—"

'Stop now,' Vio begs, 'Before we start digging.'

He shuts up.

"Who are you?" Purah finally asks.

"Oh, uh you can call me Four."

"Where are you from?"

'Lie!' 'Why?' 'Because the truth is unbelievable.' 'It went okay last time we just told the truth.' 'Yeah, at worst we're going to look like a silly kid, not nuts.' 'This has gone pretty well, don't mess it up.' 'Oh crap, answer.'

"You uhhh, it's complicated, and this has gone fairly well so I'm debating how crazy to look in front of you."

They stare at him for a moment then Purah gestures with both hands towards the man, "This is Link, he slept for a hundred years, woke up with no memory, and rushed into the wilderness in his underwear," "Oi—" "To kill an ancient dark magic monster boar the size of the castle and later an even bigger king of evil demonic dragon."

Link waves.

'Oh, well in that case.'

"Hi. I'm a time traveller." Four tells them.

"Well, that's straightforward then," Purah sounds almost relieved, "You should have just said so."

"What?"

"Did you know Rauru and Sonia?" The man, Link, asks, "Princess Zelda? Did they send you?"

"I know a Princess Zelda but I don't think she had anything to do with it. It's a family name, you know?" He's pretty sure she would have told him for a start. She was right there when he got taken.

Purah taps her foot, a 'thinking' motion more than impatience, "How did you get here?"

"A portal kidnapped me."

"Oh yeah, that happens," the local Link muses.

"Four! What the fuck are you doing?" Legend's head appears at the top of the ladder, apparently having heard the tail end of the conversation.

"Hi Legend, I found Link!"

Chapter Text

The Captain has no right to look that tired or exasperated. He has known Four two days and that 'not this shit again' face of resignation is entirely unwarranted.

Besides. He found Link. And maybe their mission. And got a job offer.

He's doing amazing.

"You told them you're a time traveller," the Captain confirms. Again.

Four nods.

"He is a time traveller," Legend points out, not so much with him as against Wars.

"And you believed him?"

"The dragon was also time travel kidnapped," the local-Link tells them.

Four has already decided he's not going to find any of this weird.

"He's having a whole quest about it," Purah adds.

The captain sinks his head into his hands for a long moment, then lifts it again, composed. "Okay, this is probably where we're meant to be."

Where they are is the ground floor room in Purah's house, located under the tower no one will let him jump off. It's not a big room, and it's crammed full of books and papers, a large table, and a haphazard array of chairs. Purah takes the only comfortable looking one, and the now four Links are left to fend for themselves. Wars and local-Link stand while Four's found himself a pile of newspapers and Zelda-and-Link missing posters to sit on. Legend's helps himself to the single desk chair.

Purah's assistant, a girl named Josha who's even younger than him, takes a stool at the table to keep notes.

They have done the time travel conversation, the 'we are also named Link' conversation, they have (eventually, whoops) remembered to grab Wars. All sorts of progress.

The books taunt him, unreadable, he's going to see if he can learn the alphabet off Josha as soon as he has the chance, but for now…

"So do I get nickname too?" local-Link asks.

Wars makes the call without consulting them, "This your his home, I think it's only fair you keep Link. We're the visitors."

Now, he has a point and as good guests they should probably accept this, but on the other hand he's given up 'Link' five times now and that's not fair either.

If he really wanted he could insist they use his name instead of 'Four' but he kinda likes Four and ugh, that's not the point, he doesn't know what the point is. He just doesn't like the feeling of losing it to someone else. Of going through everything and never getting to have it back.

So he speaks up, "I think he needs a nickname."

"Everyone here knows him as Link," Wars explains patiently, like he doesn't get it.

Four understands it fine, that's just not the problem. But there's no way he's going to launch into trying to explain the issue here when he only half understands it himself.

"I want to be in the club," local-Link says.

"Yeah!" Chimes Four. Well that's gotta decide it, right?

"You're excluding him," Legend adds, and Wars gives him a 'why must you be such an asshole?' look. Because he is only saying it to be an asshole. He supposes he should give the Captain credit for his patience sometimes.

"Okay," the guy knows when to fold it seems, "the rest of us used titles. 'Hero of the Four Sword', 'Hero of Legend,'" Wars makes an 'and so on' motion with one hand, "do you have one then?"

Ah, so unlike him and Legend, the Captain doesn't seem to have heard of this guy, or at least couldn't pick him from what he's seen. He files that information away.

Local-Link thinks about it for a moment, "I don't think I have something like that, who around is going to go awarding titles…? Hero of Hyrule?"

"We're all have Hyrule," Legend groans.

"What are you going to do if we meet a Link with that as their only title?" Wars asks.

"Stop assuming we'll have to continue this nonsense."

Four frowns at the new Link, "No, Legend is right for the wrong reason—" "Hey!" "—he doesn't look like a 'Hyrule'."

The guy grins,"What do I look like?"

"The locals think you're a cryptid," Legend snarks at him.

"They're not wrong," Purah interjects and local-Link laughs sheepishly.

"Hero of the huge fuck ass field," Legend offers.

He snickers, "Bit long, 'Field' for short or 'Ass'?"

"That's already Legend," Vio says, before anyone can stop him. Actually, there's some mental high-five'ing going on about it if anything.

Legend just smirks at him.

Wars fails to hide his snort then tries to pull it back to something respectable, "Wilderness?"

Red seizes control, never able to resist a nicknaming, "Wilds. You're Wild."

"I am?"

"Yeah!"

"Excellent." The newly dubbed Wild nods firmly.

The captain leans his back against a wall, somehow having found a space mostly free of papers and hangings, "So Wild, we've noticed a pattern. Done anything notable in the past three or so days?"

"By notable you mean…?"

"Boss battle," Legend says dryly, "saving Hyrule, rescuing half a dozen kidnapped sages, a young woman or women in distress, fighting a giant pig."

"The giant pig was years ago—" "Of course it was." "— this time the Demon King Ganondorf was in an aerial dragon battle."

So maybe he really shouldn't have worried about looking weird in front of these people after all. Four rocks forward on his newspaper pile, "So you're done too? Threat gone, back to normal?"

"No," Wild shakes his head, "not until we find a way to bring Zelda back."

"Back from what—! Oh shit did she die?" Legend seems genuinely upset at the prospect.

"Necromancy," Four whispers, horrified. Mostly. Vio, whatever that feeling is I don't like it. ('Shhhh, don't worry about it.')

"No! She didn't die! She's not dead!"

"She's taken somewhere?" Legend ventures.

Purah and Wild look at each other for a moment, then Purah says "Draconification."

A word he's never heard before and Four frowns, breaking down in his head, but it's Legend who says it first, "Change to a dragon?"

Four snaps his head in the direction of the dragon. He can't see it through the wall, but it hums, resonates, on the edges of his senses. "…The dragon is Princess Zelda!?"

"Yes."

"…eh?"

"What…?" Even Legend seems surprised,

"How? And why?" Wars finishes.

"It's a long story," Purah picks at her recorder with one hand, "but the short of it was she brought the transformation on herself to renew the Master Sword."

Legend startles and reaches for his sword —just for a moment— before he stops himself. The Captain frowns, thoughtful, but Four has no idea what she's talking about.

"The what?"

Wild gives him a wry smile, "Need a wondrous Sword of Light to defeat the king of demons, right?"

"Ugh, you do." If the last five years have taught him anything it's that. The Sword is important.

He wonders, briefly, if he's useless without it, but comes to the conclusion 'fuck, no'. He has plenty of things to question; his recovery, his differences from how he was before, if he's just a lesser version of the Colours, but never that it was the Sword that made him worthy.

He made the Sword.

"We don't know how to undo it," Wild tells them, "and now she's injured and time is running out."

"How did it happen?" Wars frowns thoughtfully at Wild and Purah, "How did she transform in the first place?"

"There are… relics of great power said to have been created by the Golden Goddesses..." Purah explains.

"Of course there are," mutters Legend, "If I have been kidnapped by the fucking Triforce again—"

"They were called Secret Stones."

"Are there three of them, triangle shaped?"

"Three?" Wonders Four aloud and Legend's gaze turns to him, "Let me guess—"

"Seven, about this big" Purah holds her fingers apart about the length of his thumb, "comma shaped."

"…I don't know what that is in your writing," Four points out and Wild laughs and draws one on the chalkboard taking up the wall behind Purah. Huh, same shape, good to know.

"A curious property of the Secret Stones," she continues, "alone, they amplify the holder's natural power, their magic I suppose. I suspect you think about the mechanics of magic differently to us, but that's the gist of it."

He's noticed that too, they don't seem to speak about magic the same way he does, though Legend seems more in line with himself from the little he's noticed.

"Ingested they transform the bearer into a dragon, it is said to be at the cost of all thought and memory.

Immortal, but lost…" She trails off.

It clicks, and Four feels the fractures form, "It was an item?" he asks, unable to keep the shake out of his voice.

"A relic from the dawn of creation, a memento from the Goddesses, but I suppose you could call it that."

Thus was the Light Dragon born, thus was the Princess Zelda changed.

An item. An artifact. Some cursed-blessed gift from the Goddesses.

She has no way out, she has no way back, no one and nothing to guide her. It took her, and unravelled flesh and blood and bone, and wove her a new body from Light magic.

Just.

Like.

Him.

Flesh made magic, magic made flesh.

And oh, he knows why he's here.

He knows what he has to do.

The Captain asks her some question, but Four is not paying attention anymore. He closes his eyes and sinks into himself, falling apart is the easiest thing in the world.

Team meeting.

Blue starts them off, 'Okay, so there's not a chance they're letting us try that.'

'They might if it'll save Zelda,' Vio points out, but they all feel the 'might'.

'We might get killed and they think we're adorable,' Red adds, 'they won't let us do anything risky.'

'Please don't call us that,' Green begs, 'Just say they see us as a kid.'

'Link can't help being loveable, okay?'

'All that is your fault,' Blue grouches at him.

'Thank you~ ♡' 'It wasn't a compliment!' 'You know you're very endearing too, Blue.'

'Can we focus?' Green cuts back in.

Vio picks things back up, 'They'll want to try it instead and they can't, it has to be us, we're the only ones who know what it feels like. If we put it off too long it'll be too late.'

'We don't even know if this'll work. We might save her, we might erase ourselves, or it might do nothing at all.'

'That last one seems the most likely,' Vio admits.

A long moment of silence, and they're almost back together as they consider it.

'Why are we here if not for this?' Red finally asks.

'And while Link is still so unstable.' Green is a little sad at that.

Blue speaks up again, 'So how do we do this?'

'We downplay what it involves,' Vio says simply, 'No one but us is going to understand the magic anyway.'

'Is everyone okay with this? It is a risk,' Green warns, 'We don't have the Sword to guide it.'

'We should try to get hold of one of those stones so we have the feel for them first,' Vio suggests, 'But I'm in.'

'I want to help her,' such a simple, uncomplicated desire from Blue, 'Don't overthink it. We want to do it, so we do it.'

'It's the only thing we ever felt the same about, right?' Red finishes it.

Four opens his eyes.

'Saving Zelda.'

Wars is watching him subtly, he caught his lapse, but doesn't comment. The timing is good, a lull in the conversation that went on without him, so Four launches straight into it.

"Do you have the other stones?"

You never have just one of the magic quest stones, right?

"They're around," Wild answers him, "but others have them."

"Could I see one by any chance? I might, might, be able to help."

Chapter Text

'Can you turn her back?' Maybe. 'Can you heal her?' Maybe. 'Can you fix whatever the problem is?' Maybe.

'How?' His magic is the same. Un-foreign. He can reach into the spell. Maybe.

He does not speak of 'the spell' in detail, they do not understand it so he keeps its mystique intact. You swallow a stone, you become a dragon. Easy. What do the mechanics matter? It is magic, and here, after the end of days, academic discussions on the topic are likely scarce. To be honest, he doesn't understand the dragon part himself. Why that form? But that's not what's important.

He does not speak of how she and he were made. Just how much they are the same. Wars called him the Hero of Light, and Four is only now grasping what that means.

He can't tell what the Captain is thinking. Legend is the only one who frowns, who he thinks understands exactly how vague he's being. How his analogies are too simple, how that's not precisely how it works.

He does not call Four out.

Wild tells him they can likely get a stone for him to look at, but he is not to eat it. Four tells them he has no plans to eat it. 'He will be watched.' No seriously, he doesn't want to eat— 'He will not be left alone with the stone.' He's not gonna eat— 'It is very tempting and smooth and looks like a hard lolly but that's no excuse to eat the stone.'

Four tells him this is getting kind of insulting.

Wild tells them he 'works at a school between apocalypses' and 'teenagers are, in fact, worse'.

…so uh. Fair.

Purah calls it karma.

He does give Four a large blue and yellow crystal he calls a 'Shard of Light Dragon's Spike', and now that is interesting. He would have been able to pick it was from her even if he wasn't told. It reminds him of the Elemental Stones he held all those years ago, pure elemental magic crystallised. He wants to experiment with it, he wants to make something with it.

Purah hands over 50 rupees for winning their bet then sends Josha to contact someone about the Secret Stones.

See, everything's going fine!

Wild makes them dinner, an unexpectedly excellent venison meat bowl. During the preparations Four discovers his new mission in life: to obtain a Purah Pad, and oh look, its inventor is right there. After much pestering and deploying his best Red eyes he gets a 'maybe' as the components are hard to source.

He's going to ask again after saving Zelda.

Legend works up the fortitude and shoves down the snark long enough to politely ask Wild if he has anything without game meat, and receives mushrooms instead.

Wars comes over to Four after he finishes eating, lifts his hand and places a stone into it; a small, round-cut crystal. It reminds him of a pommel stone.

Four frowns at it, "What's this?"

The Captain shrugs, "Got it from a merchant downstairs, sometimes having something to fiddle with helps with focus."

He notices the thumbnail shaped bruise on Four's hand, and taps it, brow furrowed, "Try something else instead, I knew a boy who used to use acorns, and another who was always playing with a coin… you know what a coin is?"

Four nods, Hyrule Town had enough traders for him to see foreign currency sometimes.

There feels like a lot being left unsaid, but Four doesn't understand what. He's a little grateful, and a little embarrassed, and a little angry. Hmm, only three? He holds the stone up to the light, flickers of colour dance across the table and walls as it splits the lamplight.

'Rainbow quartz,' The part-of-him-that-is-Vio supplies. Ah, there we go.

"Thank you," Four settles on. Wars claps him on the shoulder and leaves him to go back to talking to Wild. Four turns the crystal over in his hands.

It's nice. He's warm and fed, he's got a place to sleep tonight. That grief is still there, like a sinkhole of darkness in the corner of his vision, but it's easier to ignore when he's not alone.

And then one of the gate guards comes in looking for Purah and Wild. Someone's just come in injured, having outridden Yiga on the road. There's the end of the collective good mood.

Four feels the cracks in his soul reform, half-heard arguments in the back of his mind. Are they here for him? Are they just attacking people on the road again? Will he have to fight them again? Spreading and growing until he breaks.

'We're fine, we're safe here,' Green reassures them.

'We can take care of ourselves,' Blue adds, with memories of the fight they won, 'If anything happens, we've got this.'

Wars looks at him and notices his discomfort, sitting too straight and too still. The man comes back over to put a hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. Eyes closed, deep breaths, focus, he clutches the quartz tight in his hands. They pull themselves back together. He notices Wild looking at him curiously after that, but he doesn't force the issue for now.

Purah has to go speak to victim, and the guards, and generally do leadership stuff. Wild is going to see if he find the attackers, and Warriors offers to go with him.

They do not ask Four if he wants to join, he does not volunteer, not with how close the last fight was. He hasn't even gotten himself a sword yet. For a moment he thinks Legend might go, and that Wars might tell him to stay, and then he'd have to go just to defy him. Instead the moment passes with neither of them saying anything. It's probably best if one of them remains anyway, in case something goes wrong here.

And then it's just him and Legend. That lasts about ten minutes before Legend, obviously still antsy, leaves too, muttering something about the walls.

And Four's alone again.

He sits at the table for a while; looking over the shard Wild gave him, turning over Wars' quartz in his hands to make rainbows, picking through some books and maps, but the mood to work everything out has abandoned him. He slumps over, head on his arms on the table, brain buzzing. His head hurts, he feels unsteady again. Legend doesn't come back and neither do the others.

He starts feeling a bit sorry for himself. Which is a self indulgent, childish luxury, but it's okay in the semi-privacy of his own mind, right? The thought of someone walking in and finding him there, half laying on a table, pathetically doing nothing is enough to get him to move though. At least if he's going to do some unproductive wallowing he should find the appropriate place for it.

He leaves Purah's home and walks a lap of the walls, keeping an eye out for Wars and Wild coming back. He doesn't see them. Then wanders up the telescope tower again, so he can check on Zelda. Up the ladders, once again not falling to his death (good job team), until he pulls himself onto the top platform and heads to the telescope eyepiece.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Legend's voice startles him, the older boy sits curled in one corner, head tucked behind his knees, he lifts it to glare at him. It's too dark to tell if he's been crying, or if he's just hiding here alone with his thoughts.

Four blinks at him, he didn't even realise he was here, great job on the spacial awareness guys.

"I came to have a sulk," he admit, "what are you doing here?" Four collapses down into another corner to sit, misjudges the fall and manages to bang his head on the support strut. For fuck's sake. Ow.

"I—" Legend splutters, apparently not expecting him to just straight out say it, "The view."

"You're here for the view?"

"Yeah. Fuck you," he gets to his feet to leave.

"Link."

Legend stops.

"Stay? I… wouldn't mind the company."

He stays like that for a moment longer, then leans against one of the pillars to look out over the ruined Hyrule Town instead of leaving.

Four turns his gaze in the same direction. "What do you think happened?"

"Ganon, or someone like him," Legend's tone is hard to read

"Not just Hylians at war? Or monsters?" Which is more likely anyway? How often is there someone like Ganon or Vaati? He never really considered how long Hyrule's history would stretch beyond him. Never considered that his Kingdom, so far from the founding, might be seen as young someday. Yet he's obviously before both Legend and Warriors.

"The castle is preserved but the town is destroyed. Completely decimated."

"Huh… you're right, that's weird. Something weird happened." He should have noticed that but he was too busy having feelings when he passed the town.

Legend turns away from it. "If there was someone like us who was supposed to protect it, he failed."

"Does that… but Hyrule survived. Kind of."

"It happened to me too," Legend admits, "There was a boy who they called a martyr, he saved the Princess and Sages, but he died. They locked Ganon away but didn't put him down, and he slowly poisoned the land for centuries.

Wild is cleaning up after it the same way I was. Except I came after a stalemate and war not…"

"Calamity." That word they keep hearing.

"Yeah, that's what they call it, huh?"

"We should ask now that they know we're not from here," Four considers, Wild or one of the others would probably tell them.

He pulls himself back to his feet and leans over the rail to look out at the sky, catching sight of a tiny sliver of moon. It's the last night before a new moon, it seems an ill omen.

His gaze shifts to the dragon, the Princess Zelda. Never reacting to them, never looking at them, not shifting, simply waiting. Her head seems to hang lower today, and his heart hurts. Maybe he should go now, risk it without seeing a stone, but he has no way to get to her.

'I'm coming,' he mentally promises her.

No change, no answer as always. He turns to Legend instead, looking for some way to keep the conversation going. "What do you do in the in-between?"

A small frown in response. "What do you mean?"

"When you're not being kidnapped."

The guy considers, and Four is half surprised when he decides to answer. "I have an orchard. I was becoming a smith but I don't know if I'll go back to it, I started my apprenticeship late and it's going to keep getting interrupted."

"I'm a smith." Something else in common!

"Yeah?"

"My grandfather is, he taught me."

"Finish your apprenticeship?"

"Yeah a while ago, I started young and I'm very good. If we're stuck here I will graciously allow you to continue your studies with me." He grins at Legend.

"We won't stay. It'll be on to the next thing, never to see each other again," Legend says it so matter-of-fact.

"Do you really think so?"

"I don't see why it would end now. I said it before didn't I, this is the third time I've been abducted like this. Why would it stop at three?" he sounds wry, tired, resigned.

It's not the tone Four was expecting. "Aren't you angry?"

"No."

Okay, bullshit. "Haaaa? How could you not be angry, you're angry about everything."

"No. I don't get to be angry about this," Legend's tone is flat.

"Okay, I don't believe that." Who are you and what have you done with jerkface?

"How could I be mad? To be a tool for a purpose and outcome I agree with," he declares, "How could I be mad if every time I'm taken away a kingdom is saved and evil vanquished.

How could I be mad if someone uses me to save their homeland and returns to help rebuild it after.

They're all good things."

He tries not to sound bitter, and only partially succeeds.

Link had been more than willing to go a questin' to save Zelda. Hell, all that stuff with the Minish he would have done for the fun and challenge of it, back when he was all eagerness and dumb courage with no self preservation. He'd never felt he'd had his hand forced.

Who will he become if he doesn't get to go home from this? If he's just pulled to the next thing and the next thing like Legend fears?

"Not for you."

"The world I live in gets better doesn't it? Half the country was constantly on the verge of starving when I was growing up. Crop yields have gotten better every single year since I beat Ganon the first time. Hyrule is better. Who'd be angry about that?"

He can't complain, because at his core he's a Hero of Hyrule, and it's not fucking fair. Legend doesn't sound angry, he sounds resigned, hopeless.

"You're allowed to be," Four tells him.

"I'm not. How pathetic would that be, huh? 'Oh wahhh, he made the world a better place.'"

"So you're mad about everything else."

"I'm just an arsehole, don't read into it."

"I'll be mad for you," Four decides. Blue's on it, actually they're all on it. Team bonding activity. 'Just Four existing is a team bonding activity.'

Legend blinks at him, baffled, "Huh?"

"I am so fucking pissed on your behalf!"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No!" He crosses his arms for emphasis, but quickly uncrosses them to gesture as he speaks, "It's not fair! You shouldn't get yanked around, you shouldn't have to always be the one to step up! You shouldn't get kidnapped by a portal! And how little were you when you had to fight Ganon? And you're gonna quit your apprenticeship! And you're sad! And, and—!"

Legend starts laughing at him.

"I'm going to fix this one!" Four's deadly serious, he's got this, "and then, you can go home or something! I haven't figured that bit out!"

"Thank you for your concern," Legend's voice is dry, bemused.

"I mean it! I don't know if there's something you're here for, but there is for me I think. I'm going to save her."

He absolutely will. She's not his Zelda, but they could be related right? It doesn't even matter, he can't ignore someone hurt and in troubled like that if he can help.

Legend tilts his head at him."Are you going to do something stupid?"

"I'm going to do something reckless. It's only stupid if it goes badly," he tells him before realising maybe he shouldn't have said that out loud, "you gonna try to stop me?"

"You said you didn't want to be treated like a kid."

"I don't," Four agrees.

Scowling Legend is back. "Then you can make your own dumbass choices and live, or not, with the consequences."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"When I was fifteen I had saved three kingdoms, killed Ganon three times —fucker kept getting resurrected— and woken a sleeping god. And the last thing I needed after that was some less experienced older shitheads thinking I was incapable," Legend hisses at him.

"Yeah, but were you acting absolutely nuts at the time?"

Legend shrugs one shoulder in a non committal sort of way. Ah. That's not a no.

"What did you need after that?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

The question hits him like a blow. Because after that, after everything he did, when he was Four's age he was going through something too, whatever he needed he didn't get.

What has he been doing? What does he think Four is to him? Who is this guy anyway? Who is nasty and bitter and keeps pulling him out of his spirals. Who speaks like he's seen it all, who speaks like he knows Four's future.

Because he is it, right?

Three times Legend put down Ganon, three times Link put down Vaati, and it did not end with them.

Legend, who he can never tell how sincere he is, who he can't really work out. Who calls him a shrimp and cleans the gore off his weapons.

With his on-edge laugh and broken 'Again?' and the feeling the Goddesses' chain around his neck. For all his anger, for all he doesn't care to play at pleasantries, there is something so controlled and deliberate about him.

Legend jumps up on to the narrow railing, it's not high, only about waist height on the taller boy, but the fall is at least five stories. A likely fatal drop. He reaches up to hold one of the lantern hanging struts above his head with one hand.

The wind blows, icy and cutting through to Four's heart. He's suddenly afraid, and it cracks him apart.

Legend leans out over the edge, weight held back with strong, slim fingers, and one by one he let's them slip. Daring fate.

Life hanging on four, three, two—

It's Vio, the core of their loss and grief, who gasps out, "Don't!"

For a moment there's no response, and they're terrified.

"Link—"

Legend turns back to him, rocking his weight back, swaying with an easy, careless, grace and catches sight of his face. He doesn't know what he he sees there, his own face is blank.

"Idiot."

"Shut up! Shut up! Don't play at that, enough people died!"

Vio makes a move to climb up with him but Legend sighs and steps back down, dragging Vio away from the edge. He doesn't apologise, and he doesn't say he wouldn't have.

"Do not do that with your baby deer legs. The others would hang me if you got killed on my watch."

"Fuck your watch!"

"Oh? Is angry Four back?"

He's not, but Vio has anger of his own, more with Blue leaning on him, bleeding into him, "I don't need a babysitter. Who's watching you?"

He grins, showing all his teeth, "No one. I am a difficult but highly capable young man and no one looks twice."

Is that… is that true? Does Legend believe it's true? Those are two different questions. He thinks of Wars asking him about Legend by the river, if he thought he'd do something stupid, and wonders if the man read Legend better than he did. He doesn't know him at all, not really, but he knows he's been drowning since the moment they met. Perhaps long before. Vio is gone again.

"I… Link, what, what happened?" Four asks.

"What?" Caught off guard, just for a moment.

"Before this, before the portal, what did it take you away from?"

"Nothing. It was over. Two words were saved! And everyone went home! Happy ending~" He gives a little spin of mock celebration.

"Except you. You didn't go home."

Legend smirks at him, a default fake smile, a smug mirror to the polite one Green uses. "There's no one for me there anymore anyway."

Anymore. "…did they die?"

"Not this time. He got what he needed from me and left to do the right thing by his people. Finally learnt to take on his own fucking responsibilities himself," Legend waves it off.

This Time. "Maybe you'll see him again." Four doesn't let it go, and Legend slips again, just for moment.

"I can't… hope. For that."

"He's still alive though, he's still alive so…" So it's not over, so there's hope, so he'll have a life even if it's not with Legend.

"Oh, kid." Legend's looking at him with sympathy, with the sharp edges dulled. Pity? He doesn't like it, that look like he can see through to his grief.

"I'm not a kid!" He snaps, "You're hardly any older!"

"I am a bitter, nasty, cynical old dickhead and you're better off not bothering with me," Legend even sounds sincere about it

"No! Fuck you! I'll do what I want!"

"You're crying again."

Aaaaand he is. "I CAN'T HELP THAT BUT MY POINT STANDS!"

"We'll part ways soon enough for sure."

"So!? We're here now! And you're the kind of person who'd give everything to save my home over and over! I want to know you, even if you are a dick!" He rubs at his face, clearing away the tears.

Legend laughs, "You are so ridiculous, what the fuck? You are so weird."

"I am doing fantastic given the circumstances!" The voices in his head tell him so.

"I would have paid such good money to see you beat Ganon." There's an implied but unvoiced 'because you're a pipsqueak crybaby.'

"We w—I were very cool!" Four stutters, then gives a yell of frustration.

Legend laughs harder.

"SHUT UP!"

"The Captain, now the Captain I get, he looks the part—"

"I will shove you off this tower!"

"Sure you will," Legend teases, completely unintimidated, and takes a couple of steps towards the ladder, "I'm going back, are you coming or did you need the sulking time?"

"No," he sniffles, he'd rather have the company right now.

They head back down and find Josha back at Purah's. It doesn't take much to convince her to trade alphabets, and for Legend to join in order to get his own copy. After all that, he still seems the same as always.

Four's handwriting is horrible, worse than any of them individually now. By popular vote they decide to just get on with it regardless instead of being over-dramatic and getting mad or sulky, drawing out the letters with agonising deliberate slowness to make sure they're nice and legible.

'We could use handwriting to track progress,' the passing thought tinged violet.

He's exhausted from the day by the time they're done.

It's late before Warriors and Wild come back, Four is already on a spare futon of Purah's, taking up half of one of the small mezzanie floors in her home. He peeks over the end as they come in by lantern light. They give him a little wave.

They don't tell announce what happened, but Wars takes out his sword to clean and there is a dark stain on one of his arms Four thinks may be blood. Legend appears beside him from his own futon, shudders at the sight and shrinks back a little. No one else seems to notice.

He falls asleep with his back against Legend's, listening to Wild shift and settle on the ground floor below the landing and Wars pack away his things. It almost feels like he's part of something again.

Chapter Text

Dawn comes and Four wakes with it, a habit he's never properly been able to break. Somewhere during his second journey to find Zelda (seriously Vaati, take a hint) he began to suspect that perhaps he was just a morning person, and it wasn't having one relative or another dragging him to chores every day that got him up.

All this is to say, he's awake first.

Well not quite, he peeks over the balustrade to the floor below to find only Wars there, asleep against one wall. So either Wild is already up or he didn't sleep here.

'Good morning,' he mouths silently.

'Good morning, Link,' he answers himself.

Legend faces away from him, tucked in his bundle of blankets, breathing steady. He tries to read anything from his sleeping. Does he feel safe in this strange place? Or less so? Is he having a dream? A nightmare? Is his sleep deep or shallow? But he's just… asleep, and there's nothing more to tell.

Four creeps out of his bedding, down the ladder, and sneaks outside.

It's cold this early in the morning, more than he was expecting dressed just in his shirt and leggings, but he doesn't want to go back in and wake the others searching for his shoes and tunic. Instead he wraps his arms around himself and hops on the spot a few times. Get moving, get moving, you'll warm up.

He turns to the castle to find dragon Princess Zelda (Princess dragon Zelda? Zelda Dragon? Dragon Zelda? Princess dragon?) has left once more, the faintest hint of her on the horizon as she heads west.

There's an uneasy feeling in his gut. Maybe he should have gone to her last night, pestered Wild as soon as he got back to get him to her somehow. What if he's left it too late? He takes a moment to stress about that, but the fact is he's getting cold, and apparently he very much does not like that nowadays, so it's time to move.

He trots along the top of the wall until he spots Wild near one of the buildings in the yard, cooking…? At some strange pot on a blue flame? Too many of his thoughts are ending as questions so over he goes.

"You're up early," Wild comments as he sees him and Four just shrugs, crouching down by the strange cooking pot, hands out to warm them. There's hardly any heat coming off it at all.

He sniffles.

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! No crying until after breakfast at least! Do NOT! Go grab a blanket you moron! Pick a fight instead! Whyyyyyyy are you being like this?

'The situation? The trauma?' Suggests Vio, or the voice in his head with Vio's tone at least.

'Four people's worth,' agrees Red-voice, 'You're doing great, we love you.'

There's a flash of blue light and Wild drops a big coat over his head, after a moment of confusion where he suddenly understands how deeply lost pets get when you drop a blanket on them, Four pokes his head out, then successfully orientated, burrows back into it. It's snug and warm, stuffed with downy feathers. He sits and pulls his knees up under it, tucking in his feet so he's tented in the big coat with only his head poking out.

"Thank you," he murmurs. He'll give it back when he gets changed later.

"No problem," Wild shrugs.

He reaches into his pocket to grab War's crystal, then properly pushes his arms through the sleeves and starts making little rainbows through the stone with the rising sun as Wild gets back to his food preparations, Porridge, he thinks.

People he mostly doesn't know come and go, saying good morning to Wild and updating him on one thing or another. It's gossip rather than intel mostly, news from people he knows, the coming and going of Lookout Landing. He's popular, but Four also gets the impression he isn't here much. This is everyone saying 'hi' and catching up when he blows in to town.

They greet him too, and he introduced himself as Four. He likes… it's like the stable, kind of, it feels like a community, like they're all working together and looking out for each other. Rebuilding Hyrule.

One of them asks about the Yiga from the night before and Four sinks into the coat as Wild assures the woman it has been taken care of. As much as it ever is, they are a recurring issue it seems.

Wild turns to Four after she leaves, "The Captain told me what happened at Riverside," he says kindly, apologetic.

Four shifts uncomfortably, feeling the fractures start to form again.

"I'm sorry you hade to deal with that. They're after me most of all, they wouldn't have been here for you, but either way we won't let that happen again."

"I can deal with it," Four murmurs, and goes back to playing with his crystal maybe a bit too abruptly. Wild turns his attention back to working on the food, he must be planning to offer it to anyone that wants it, there's so much.

"Thank you," He breaks the silence again, not looking up from his stirring, "For offering to help."

"I haven't done anything yet," Four points out.

The man grins at him, lopsided, "I'll thank you again when you have."

Part of him wants to talk it down, just in case it goes wrong, just in case he can't actually do anything, but he didn't get this far by doubting what his abilities, and he really does think this is what he's here for.

"We still haven't worked out how to turn her back," Wild continues, filling the silence, "Even with Ganondorf gone, it's only half done if we can't save her."

"I'll help you find a way," Four promises, "Even if it takes us a little longer, I want to help."

Wild gives him a sad sort of smile, "She's been waiting ten-thousand years."

He blinks, "…she what?"

"Time travel kidnapping, remember?"

The consequences of that tumble through his mind, rewriting his understanding of the situation as they go, "Has she been a dragon all that time!? Is she even still—"

"Something of her her remains. She didn't let me down, she's always been carrying the burden for everyone else. I'm bringing her home," voice unwavering.

"…Wild, whatever happens and however it goes, this is my choice, okay? I'm going into it knowing the risks." Blue is right, he wants to do it so he'll do it, and Wild shouldn't feel guilty if it gets hurt one way or another.

"Ominous."

"I have a Zelda too, I saved my Hyrule. I know it can be dangerous, but I want to do this, and I think it's why I'm here."

"The goddess…" Wild looks back to his cooking, poking it with his ladle, "we have complicated feelings I think, but maybe this is her stepping in."

Four nods, "I don't know what Legend or the Captain are here for but…"

"Divinity's favourite baby sitter," Wild teases.

"No!"

The guy laughs, "we were talking last night, he doesn't know, but he hasn't ruled it out either."

"I think Legend would object. And hey! I object!"

"I think he'd object whatever it was," Wild snorts, "Is he giving you trouble?"

"No, he's just been… Normal. For him. I think. I don't mind." He doesn't, not really, it's no worse than it was dealing with himself while split. It's a little familiar maybe, and he misses all that.

"Yeah?"

"He's not a bad guy just…" Four remembers the word Legend used, "difficult."

And no one looks twice.

"You should look out for him. He needs it more than he lets on." It's messy, it's complicated, he doesn't understand the guy. But he knows he's hurting, and he knows he's a hero, and that's more than enough.

"I'll keep that in mind." He scoops porridge into a bowl, "Do you want berries? Honey? Cream?"

"Yes please," Four slips the crystal back into a pocket as Wild adds the toppings then hands him a bowl. It's a good morning.

ꕤ

He really wants to eat it.

It's so smooth and shiny and delicious looking, it would be satisfying in his mouth. It would probably taste like a rock, but the texture would be great.

Forbidden snack.

He blames Wild for putting the idea in his head, he's not the kind of guy who eats rocks, he swears. This must be Wild's fault. He doesn't let it show in his face (he hopes), he wouldn't actually eat it and the last thing he needs is to give justification to Wild's hovering over him. He's going to find himself somewhere to buy sweets later though.

The Secret Stone was brought late in the morning by a bird… person. This is new, he's never met a Rito, okay? But it's cool that there are bird people in this Hyrule, and Tulin's friendly and confident and seems onboard with whatever nonsense Wild asks of him, so they're good. Four's maybe even taller than him, amazing.

Wars and Legend loiter nearby, watching the proceedings. Separately.

Four wonders if he should be doing something about that, and what exactly. Is Legend hostile just because of the kind of guy Wars is? Or is he just someone convenient to lash out at when he can't reach those who are actually responsible for his… everything.

Maybe it doesn't matter, maybe after this they all go their own ways, whatever that means, and he'll never see any of them again. He thinks that'd be a little sad.

Tulin and Wild watch him expectantly as he turns the stone in his hands, well, only one thing for it.

He touches his magic to it, just to feel it out, and the stone explodes with light and making everyone in the area startle. It glows brightly then softens to a sort of pale yellow-white colour where it once as green.

Oh no.

"Oh, whoops." He stares at it bug-eyed, he did not mean to rewrite it, it was an accident! What if he's messed up Tulin's stone!?

"They do that," Wild tells him.

Four turns his very big, very sorry eyes up to him and asks in a voice that definitely doesn't squeak, "They do?"

"Yeah, they'll change based on who's holding them."

He then turns sharply to Tulin, "I'm sorry!" he declares.

"I think it's okay? You're fine, you're fine! It's all to help Zelda, right?"

"They've changed before," Wild reassures him.

Four nods firmly, take a deep breath, then gets back to it, exploring the stone with his magic.

It's… an amplifier? Purah said it was an amplifier, but still, he's surprised at how much it's little else. Where is the dragon thing even coming from? If someone just overloads with magic do they turn into an even more magic being? Maybe? Is it the only way to survive it?

In another life maybe he would have been a mage. If he had stayed split, maybe Red with his flare for it, would have gone into magic. Link had never considered it, he could follow his Father or he could follow his Grandfather, being a mage or a scholar or anything else wasn't an option.

He closes his eyes and sinks deeper into it, pulling threads of power into the weave of his being, creeping through the cracks, the spaces between, he feels himself…

'That's far enough,' Green tells them, and everyone stops, 'Let it go.'

'It felt right.' 'It felt the same.'

Red picks up the magic and dispels it.

'How are we looking?' Green asks.

'I think we're good to try,' Vio says, and they feel Red's agreement, 'We can leave it there for now.'

'We should give the stone back,' Blue points out, 'Is anyone in control?'

'…'

No. They've just been standing here mentally (please just be mentally) talking to themselves.

Red metaphorically steps up and holds out the stone to Tulin, "Here!" he says too loud, then adjusts his volume, "thank you."

Tulin takes it back and it flares a brilliant light for a moment, before settling back to the same pale green it was before.

Green breaks the momentary silence, '…how do we get back to Four?'

'Stub our toe or something?' Suggests Blue.

'It's not just pain, it's unity, right?' Red muses, 'Feeling the same.'

A mental image of the quartz crystal from Vio, 'Everyone try to focus on Wars' crystal?'

'No, no, wait, I got this,' Blue tells them, then takes control and asks Wild, dead serious, "If Tulin comes with me can I jump off the tower?"

They hold their collective breath.

Glider, glider, glider, glider.

Wild thinks about it.

Glider, glider, glider, glider.

Then looks at Tulin, who shrugs, "sure."

Glider, glider, glider, glider.

He hands them the glider, and they're Four again, united with glorious purpose: jumping off a five story building.

"Thank you!" he half yells, then rushes off.

"Jump off something lower first!" Wars calls out.

Four ignores him.

Up the stairs, along the wall, more stairs, a ladder, another ladder. He pulls himself on to the telescope platform and laughing sprints straight for the edge, snapping the glider open as he goes. He leaps off at full speed.

He the wind catches him and he falls, glides, down with a yell of excitement turning to laughter as he spirals down, Tulin keeping pace beside him. A few onlookers cheer and clap.

He didn't stumble once.

AGAIN!

Back up he goes. He stumbles a couple of times, and slows down a little, but there's no hesitation.

AGAIN!

Wild gives a sidelong look at the other tower, the one Four doesn't know the purpose of, as Four jogs past one time, and hears Wars give a firm "No." No idea what that's about.

AGAIN!

He 'what are you scared?'s Legend into it too, though he only jumps twice before deciding it's not worth the energy or ache in his hands. They stop bothering to get Tulin to go with him, Wild just assures them he can take care of it.

And again, and again.

And eventually Four concedes, after the others have long since wandered off, he really shouldn't tire himself out anymore and gives Wild his glider back. It's been a fun time though.

Oh right, one other thing.

"Do you know where I could get a sword?" Four asks, mentally picturing and preparing for some dodgy over-long thing, half rusted through and sitting in an old barrel somewhere.

Wild blinks at him,"I'm an idiot."

"I'm sure you're—"

But Four is being ignored in favour of the Purah Pad, which the man is now flicking through.

WantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWantWant—

A sword materialises in streams of blue light, and Wild places it in Four's hands.

It's longer and heavier than the Four Sword, but not by a lot, he could use it one handed even if he'll have to adjust a bit. Suited to someone young and/or short. The round red pommel stone puts him in mind of the Four Sword as well, though the cross-guard is very basic, as it the blade shape.

No enchantments, not like a true Legendary or Magical sword, or even a mid level White Sword, but it feels special none the less. It reminds him of picking up the Picori Blade the first time, all those years ago after its repair.

He takes it, draws it, and tests its balance and weight, both excellent. Finally, someone around here has made a decent quality sword.

"Where'd you get it?" He asks, curious, because it doesn't seem to fit with everything else around.

Wild considers this for a long moment then says, "Treasure chest."

Oh yes, those are often long stories.

The guy grins at him, "it's called the Sword of the Hero. It's yours, I think it'll suit. Use it well."

Four wraps his arms around it, holding it against his chest and bows, "thank you, it's a good sword." He doesn't say that if he doesn't mean it.

Wild just rubs his bowed head, mussing his hair, "come on, let's head out, we should get to the castle before her."

Four settles the sword on his back, it feels good to have that weight there again. They say goodbye to Purah and Josha, collect Warriors, Legend, and Tulin —no way was he going to keep out of it after Wild and Purah called him here— and step out of Lookout Landing.

Into the ruins of Hyrule Town.

Chapter Text

There is a point where things stop being 'wreckage' and start becoming 'archeology'. Four isn't sure where quite that is, but feels like he's looking at the blurry line between it.

Hyrule town, or Castle town, or Hyrule Castle town, depending on who in the group you asked, is a curious thing. It doesn't have a single standing building, just tumbles of old stone, even the old wood rotted and burnt away, yet new foundations are being laid.

Why rebuild here? On the bones of a fallen town? He supposes because people are practical and there's literal tons of building materials just laying around ready to go. Memories are short too, no one personally witnessed what happened here or knew someone who died. Why waste time cutting new stone?

Would he live in such a place? Surrounded by ghosts? Maybe. He's good at his trade, he'd be able to do a lot for the people here, could make a difference to any building or reconstruction efforts. But he's not sure how easy the dead rest in this ruin and how welcoming they'd be.

Their little group doesn't spread out too far, mostly following Wild and Tulin's lead, though Legend ranges around a little, not staying at any particular position in the group.

The Captain walks beside Four, and he has mixed feelings about that. Specifically; 'Oh hey, it's kind of comforting to just go along with the knight', 'this person is being nice to me and I am feeling delicate so I must be CLINGY', and 'fuck you I'm not a helpless child and if you treat me like one I will break your shins with my hammer. As a warning.'

So that's fun.

The rest of him just wants to go exploring.

The push and pull of it is giving him a headache.

The wind turns and he catches the scent of smoke and fire on the breeze from the castle. Still fresh from Wild's fight a few days ago, or perhaps the garrison there is burning wreckage to clear it. A piece of charred masonry crumbles beneath his foot. The sky darkens, the grey day growing greyer, just a little. The sun lost in the smoke, no, just vanished behind a denser cloud. A boy ahead of him laughs. Three aerocuda wing overhead, heading north.

'Vio,' a whisper on the wind, 'Vio!' except he never used to whisper.

'We'll burn everything down,' the forest was first, 'and create a black horizon!' the town was next.

A blackened landscape stretches before him, his hometown in charred ruins.

He wonders if this is what those places will look like someday, face settled back into that disinterested mask.

He got all their coldness, all their indifference, their ruthlessness and scheming. A lump of coal in his chest. He could tell himself that enough to pretend. Liar, liar, to himself most of all.

Tell himself Red got all of their heart.

He doesn't know how many died. Shadow had always been more interested in spectacle and destruction than a body count, but some must have perished. Burned or crushed or both, innocent people, his people. He didn't stop it, he couldn't have. Could he? Shadow was not the one in charge, and so long as the Mirror remained he would return anyway. Had to play along so he could learn a way to stop them.

He tried to distract him, to keep Shadow's attention closer to home. It worked sometimes, and sometimes it didn't. There was nothing he could do about Vaati or the others.

He waited for a chance. He didn't destroy the Mirror. He choked.

Idiot boy. Fell too deep.

Smoke and screams on the wind. He hadn't wanted them to know, he wanted to spare them that, but now they all know him for the darkest part of them. Now they know his brutal calculations. How many people died? No, wrong question, it would have happened with or without him. How many deaths could he have prevented had he just been smarter, had he just done it right somehow?

A sound, a voice, he turns towards the noise.

Wars is frowning at him, "Purple."

"Huh? Oh…" Vio lifts his hands briefly, as if he could somehow touch and feel a difference in his face, then looks away and scowls.

"That an issue?"

"No. Just an accident." He split them and took over without even noticing. They rest beneath the surface, unsettled and worried, but don't try to force their own control.

"You okay?"

"Yes, fine, just thinking." Face that familiar cool mask. Don't let them see what you're thinking, what you're planning, don't let them doubt for a moment. They'll kill you, and the others, and Zelda.

But it's over. He doesn't need to wear it anymore, right? He's not sure what he is under it. It doesn't matter, Vio is gone, haunting Link in so many ways.

"What do you go by?" The captain asks curiously.

"'Four' is fine." It doesn't matter, he's going to be part of him again soon enough anyway.

"Are you Four though?"

"…Vio." He admits, and it feels odd to… exist.

"Nice to meet you, Vio."

He shivers, all the way up his spine. Vio is dead and gone, they're all better off just fading into Link again, and yet… and yet a stranger says his name to his face. And it hurts and the pain is good.

"Were the you the one who told me about the stars moving?" Wars continues.

Vio blinks, caught off by the question. "You noticed that early?"

The Captain gives him a wry smile and shrugs one shoulder in response, "Hindsight."

"Yeah."

"Blue-eyes keeps getting mad at me," Wars jokes.

"Blue gets mad at everything. Also you're kind of shady and presumptuous."

He snorts, "Green-eyes talks like a shopkeep talking to customers."

That surprises a laugh out of him, a real one, "He does, doesn't he? A 'responsible young man'."

"Red-eyes…"

"Red gets the feelings," Vio cuts in before he can say anything mean, given he's probably only seen him when they've been upset, "and optimism, playfulness, things like that. It's been a rough week, don't judge him too hard."

"Ah… Oh," he realises, "Is Vio from Violet?"

"Yes."

He doesn't ask 'not purple?' Which Vio appreciates because obviously. If he liked that name he'd use that name, and if he liked Violet he'd use Violet.

"So to what do I owe your company, Vio?" Wars watches him, he doesn't know if his politely interested face is a mask or not. He supposes he shouldn't be one to judge, still hiding behind his own. Even Green has that fake smile for times like these.

It gnaws at him, and he feels the others encouragement, feels them holding back and letting Vio be just Vio. ('Talk to someone,' whispers Red, 'please.') And he has to doesn't he? For all their sake, for Link's sake. So he reaches out, just a little, "…you ever… do something bad to try to do something good?"

"Yes," Wars doesn't hesitate, "That's the nature of war I think."

"Link didn't. The other three didn't. But…"

"You did."

Vio nods. Too many words already said.

"You've been to a place like this before," Wars connects the likely trigger, he seems a little sad and Vio cannot stand it, not directed at him.

He glares at the man, "Do not pity me."

"What do you think you deserve?"

Vio doesn't answer, he doesn't know, he doesn't know anything except it's over and people are dead and homes are lost, and he could have done better and could have done worse and they are all so lost.

"If you want to carry the guilt for the times you failed, you have to also carry your successes," Wars tells him, "What was saved along with what was lost. If you want to take responsibility you also have to give yourself credit."

"What would you know?" Vio sneers, but he knows it's a mistake. He's being defensive, obvious, he puts his blank face back on.

"It's how we live with ourselves. One way, anyway." His stupid pretty face is bad at being sincere, but he thinks he's trying.

Red nudges him, Vio hesitates, "…It just reminded me is all, reminded Link. None of that was him and yet…"

"'Does the end justify the means?' is a question as old as the world. Did you do your best with the circumstances you were given?"

"I tried," Vio admits, "But now I don't know, so much looks different as Link. But I don't know what else I should have done."

He was alone, and he was in the hands of the enemy, and he couldn't save Shadow and couldn't kill him either. So far over his head and telling himself he could swim. Would one of the others have done better? They would have been made a prisoner or killed most likely. Vio at least maintained the ability to act. What did he do with it? Not enough.

"You saved Hyrule. And Zelda," the Captain tells him.

"Yeah."

He shifts his gaze to Legend's lonely figure wandering back from the ruins, "Maybe that's all we have."

"So what about you?" This has absolutely been way too much talking about Vio, time to turn it back on him.

"What about me?" Fake smile full power. Gross.

"Why aren't you a complete disaster like us and Legend?"

"How do you know I'm not?" Unflinching. In a way that makes him think that maybe he actually is a screaming mess under all that.

"Point."

His expression softens, just a little. "I didn't know what would come next, but I know it would have been politics and bureaucracy. Being a symbol or a scapegoat. The reasons behind the conflict were… messy, and potentially disadvantageous for myself going forward.

I don't have a home worth going back to, the war was my entire adult life. I won't say this is the better option, or that there was nothing I had planned or was looking forward to but…"

"But you weren't going home." Vio figures.

"Not like you and Legend."

"Hmm," he hums and leaves it at that, taking out the crystal to play with again.

'You done, Vio?' 'Yes, yes, I didn't mean to—' 'We know, it's fine, you felt strongest.' 'It's not your fault.' 'Do we have to talk about this?' 'Fine, fine.' 'So how to we want to get back?' 'Glider, glider, gilder, glider.' Laughter. 'That's not an option.' 'I'll try to step back.'

It takes them a little while, it's harder with a longer split it seems, but eventually somewhere between one step and the next they're Four again.

They pass into the outskirts of the city, reaching the base of the hill Hyrule Castle sits on and Four stops, the Captain gives him a quizzical look.

"She's coming early," he realises. He can't see her, somewhere to the north of the castle, but he can feel her approach again. The plan was to get there with plenty of time, wait for her to arrive, then Wild would get Four up to her, he would do some magic thing they didn't really understand and see how it went.

"Wild!" Wars call out.

The man jogs back, Tulin at his heels, and Legend comes in from his ranging.

"Four thinks she's already on her way," the Captain tells them.

"Where from?" Wild asks.

Four points to the north, right as another two aerocuda soar overhead in the direction he's indicating. He looks up and around for the first time in a while. There aren't many monsters in the sky, but here and there are dark shapes heading in Zelda's direction, suddenly he's worried.

"Okay, keep going," Wild tells them, "The guards knew I was coming with people today, they should let you through."

"Where are you going?" Legend asks, eyes narrowed.

"To intercept her and chase off anything that needs chasing. Tulin, you're with me for now."

"Yeah!" He declares brightly.

Wild takes out his Purah Pad, activates it as usual, and fiddles with it until some large, odd, kite shaped item appears. Fine, normal, he already knew it had storage.

Wild then steps on to the kite thing, does… something, and it whirls to life, starts moving, THEN LIFTS INTO THE AIR. AND FLIES AWAY.

IT LETS HIM MATERIALISE A FLYING MACHINE.

HE NEEDS IT.

WHAT DOES HE NEED TO DO TO GET ONE?

He'll save his Princess, and then he'll make him a sword! Yeah! Guys love swords! And the ones around here are mostly crap. He can even make it magic! He's done a ton of elemental White Swords for rich guys using rubies and whatever. He'd forge another Legendary Sword if he has to, and then Purah or Wild will have to give him one—

"Breathe, Four." The Captain puts a hand on his shoulder.

He gasps a breath then wheezes "I want that. IwantthatIwantthatIwantthatI—"

"Fuck I want that," cuts in Legend.

"We all want Wild's magic box, now come on." Wars pushes his shoulder and they get moving again.

They're let through the main gatehouse easily thank the Goddesses, then the three of them hurry up the wide paved path to the castle. Feeling the dragon draw closer with every heartbeat.

She's faster than she was the other times, coming to them at an even swifter pace than her quick but leisurely glide the other evenings. He can't see her for most of her approach, she's approaching from the worst direction with their view blocked by the castle itself and the mountains beyond.

Then all of a sudden she's in sight again, doggedly making her way to the castle. The wound is dark now, he only catches sight of it for a moment from his bad angle, black and grey and spreading like a toxin.

She doesn't float there, doesn't adorn and guard the castle that is her ancestral home like on the other nights. She stops and twists above the building, hanging there for a moment like every other time. Then she falls. A controlled collapse, but a collapse none the less.

The massive dragon crashes onto the castle in a tangle of coils and limbs, none of them can see properly from here but they can hear it. Walls crumble and beams shatter, a cloud of dusts erupts. Monsters shriek and howl, from the castle and from the sky, then cutting through it all a harsh growl.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. There is something wrong about that sound.

He has to reach her! They'll kill her like ravens pecking at the eyes and wounds of injured sheep. He's running without realising, without stumbling, Wars beside him and Legend ahead.

A flying machine like Wild's shoots overhead, but he doesn't recognise who flies it and he stumbles, Wars catching the back of his tunic before he can fall. He keeps hold until Four gets his feet properly under him again.

"What—"

"Yiga," the man tells him. Legend curses ahead of them.

"We have to get to her!" Four gasps, desperate. He left it too late, he left it too late! He should have just trusted his gut and gotten Wild to bring him here as soon as he could. He shouldn't have hesitated, shouldn't have waited to see a Stone. Fuck this risk, this is his best friend's kin, her descendent even! Or worse, an ancestor.

There's an explosion from the castle, then another, that sound a little like bombs. A different type perhaps, but of a similar strength to the ones he knows. Wild? The Yiga? Then another colossal crash and the crumbling of stone and masonry.

"Here!" Legend yells, coming at a stone arch flanked by dead trees. It frames a path cut into the hillside, the passage bricked and paved, a delivery entrance perhaps. "Here's our way in!"

They stop for a moment, taking each other in. Wars weighing his words; with Legend, with what is no doubt a desire to send the two of them away. He already knows better than to try.

"Okay, stay close," he settles on. Four nods, and thankfully, Legend does too, jaw tight. The three of them race into the castle.

Chapter Text

"WHY IS IT SO BIG?! THIS IS UNNECESSARY!"

"Maybe everything is big to—"

"LEGEND, TOO EASY! DO BETTER!"

Wars just sighs beside them as they run through the the passages up to the castle.

"Okay, you're right though," Legend concedes, "why is everything in this Hyrule so fucking huge?"

The castle is stupid big. Honestly, why? Wait no, actually why? How many people must have lived here, how many people would have been needed to keep it running? Another sign of just how completely whatever happened here a century ago must have decimated the kingdom. It is taking them forever.

The castle is not his castle, it's been completely remodelled at some point, perhaps several points, in it's history. If not for the banners and standards still hanging in places it would seem completely foreign almost. Can he safely say this the future then? It must be, right? Nothing like Wild's little magic box has existed in the time between him and Hyrule's founding so far as he knows.

There's rubble in the halls, falling walls, holes in the ceiling and floor, it's navigable but a pain. The stress, dread, and focus required is exhausting as they follow the sounds of monsters and structural damage to find Zelda. It's hard to keep from slowing them down.

Every now and then they come to a puddle of what they figure is Gloom; a toxic black sludge that sets his teeth on edge and head aching. For once he doesn't immediately investigate something, he's fine letting someone else study that thanks. It seems to be breaking down in areas where it gets full sun, but it looks like it hasn't been long enough or bright enough to clear it everywhere.

Through a long passage beside a long dining hall, doubling back when their way is blocked, then up a long flight of stairs. Everything is so damn long.

A long armed (EVEN THE MONSTERS!) black and gold monster stalks them along the ceiling before Wars downs it with an arrow then swiftly, brutally takes it out with his sword — a very good quality, but surprisingly basic thing. Legend's sword is obliviously something special, but if Wars has something like that he hasn't shown it. Anyway, he had not actually seen him fight before and the guy is terrifyingly efficient.

('Lessons, lessons, lessons—'

'GREEN!'

'If Vio can nag for books I can nag for sword training!')

Another too-long passageway.

Then Legend enters the next room and stops abruptly, Four rushes to him, one hand on his sword ready to— Oh.

LibraryLibraryLibraryLibraryLibraryLibrary—

THEY FOUND THE LIBRARY!

HE NEEDS TO GET BOOKS!

A hand presses against his shoulder and gives a gentle nudge, but doesn't let him go. Wars. "Come on, we can come back later."

Four gives a high pitched noise of despair.

"I know," —He does not!— "The Princess first."

He right and Four hates that so much.

"Legend!" Wars calls, he does not try to touch Legend which is undoubtedly the correct move.

The older boy reluctantly tears his eyes away from the shelves and they're off again, rushing through the (also long) library and back into the hall.

The next time Legend comes to a stop the reason is obvious; a thick pool of Gloom oozed across the passageway from a half collapsed wall. Four eyes is distrustfully. Too far for him to jump, he'll need to double back and go around.

Which is of course when Legend takes a running leap with his Pegasus boots and clears the muck, coming to a neat stop without faceplanting or running into a wall. Surprisingly hard to do with those things. Show off. He could do that too if he had his. Probably.

The Captain rummages around in his bag and pulls out a hookshot, "You good?" He asks Four.

Four just grumbles, noncommittal, so Wars asks again, "Got a way across?"

"Not on me," Four admits, poking through his bag. Everything he could use is at home.

So the man equips his hookshot, scoops Four up under one arm, and neatly hookshots them across the Gloom. Before Four can even process what's happening he's placed back on his feet and Wars is putting the item away.

"…kitten," Legend snerks at him.

Four leaps for his throat. He can't help it, okay? He's spent months getting in fights over that kind of thing, it's instinct.

The captain catches him by the back of the tunic and hauls him off his feet to swing him back, which does absolutely nothing to help with the kitten allegations, "Save it. We need to keep going."

Four tries to punch him in the side, but he's dropped and Wars is out of range with a swift practised move. It makes him abruptly remember the guy said he knew other Links, and wonder what they were like. He'll have to ask later.

Legend grins, smug, and Four mentally promises to get him back for it somehow. And Wars. They're moving again, finally leaving the outer structures and it's a clear ("clear" side-steppable Gloom doesn't count) path to what Wild called the Sanctum.

Should he tell them whatever comes isn't their fault? That if it all goes wrong it's on him and no one else? But even if he wanted to, the moment is never there.

'Be brave,' he tells himself, 'It'll work out.'

A final rush to the Sanctum, the large circular audience chamber at the centre of the keep, probably the throne room by another name at the end of a straight walkway. They can hear the chaos before they reach it, the sound of monsters, of yelling and fighting, small explosives and crumbling stone.

And there she is.

The dragon Zelda rests in a sprawled tangle, her body draped over damaged walls weaving in and out of the Sanctum like a snake, massive upper body resting on a raised platform by what was probably once a window on one side of the room, diagonal from the main entrance. Her legs don't have the strength to hold her up, and certainly not the one near the infected site, so she lays on her belly and lifts her head and long neck to snap at monsters as they try to worry at her wound. Scavengers nipping at an injured predator. None get close for long, but a couple must have reached her.

The injury is worse now, pitch black and weeping. Someone or something has managed to make a hit and split the skin, the muck of it oozes down her side. The sickness colours her scales and skin, black lines like a creeping infection up along her neck and down he back and chest. How close is it to her heart? Her brain?

The domed ceiling is in pieces on the floor, the floor itself is half collapsed, revealing lower floors and more gloom beneath. Monsters crawl and climb out of it, drawn by… what? The injured dragon? He doesn't know. But it's not a torrent of them, not a flood. Probably manageable even, if he were four again. A Yiga facing away from them vanishes chasing some unseen target.

A rain of arrows pepper a moblin as it climbs out from the cracked floor near their entrance. Wild drops onto it from above, his sword cutting cleanly into the creatures chest and it falls, dissolving into magic. His blue-white magic sword shatters and dissolves with it, but with a whirl of green light there's new short spear in his hands, he grins at the sight of them and moves straight to the next fight, keeping some armed lizard creatures from following it out.

Legend and Wars rush in to join the battle and cover Four as he follows the perimeter around instead of running across the debris and crumbling floor, fire rod at the ready. He's just gotta get to her.

And then it all goes wrong.

He doesn't see what brings it down, if it was Wild or Tulin, or even the dragon's massive, writing tail, all Four knows is one of the Yiga's flying machines is suddenly crashing towards him.

Four falls to his knees to dodge the thing as it slams into the support pillar ahead of him and there is NOISE. Crashing and cracking and in a split moment he realises what's happening, and that he won't be fast enough to escape it.

He drops completely to the ground and curls up, putting his arms over his head and neck as the pillar and walkway above him collapses.

He will never get used to crush injuries.

Stones crumble and fall, and there is no more time for thought. Suddenly the world goes dark and everything hurts, almost impossible to pick one pain from another. His back, his feet, his arms, his hands, his head. He coughs at the dust in the air and his side, just below his ribs, lights up like blade's twisted into it.

Adrenaline surges and he shrieks with rage and frustration more than fear, and pushes against the rubble. Mistake, mistake, mistake. He shouldn't have wasted his air like that. He can't move, can't breathe, the weight of the stone pressing him down, crushing his chest against his legs and the stone floor.

It hurts, it hurts, everything hurts and he can feel the panic creeping in.

'No, no, no, no,' Green whispers in his brain, 'Don't panic, you need to stay calm.'

He's fracturing with fear and pain and anger.

A smothering numbness from Vio, seizing control and steadying them through the terror, but only for a moment. For as much as Vio can still himself through the fear, he is bad with pain, his hold wavers and slips.

They sob and don't know who it is, the agony and terror spikes. Something is so wrong, so damaged inside of them.

No one's in control, the weak resistance against the pressing stone collapses, pressing the scant air from their lungs.

They can't breathe, can't focus, everything hurts, all he can taste and smell is blood and dust. Rubble shifts against their side and it feels like ribs shift and crumble with it. The split fades, there is no separation as they sink together in pain and suffocation.

The rubble shifts again, the pressure falls away and he draws a weak, shallow breath. It still hurts, everything is still agony, he thinks he is still dying, but he draws another shallow breath.

Something warm and large nudges him, then again, warm air brushes over him. Four's eyes crack open, squinting through dust and tears. The impression of white and gold, then he's picked up by the back of his tunic and scabbard and hoisted into the air. He whimpers at the pain of it, but his brain stars to stir again. He can breathe, each breath is torture but he is alive.

He lifts his head for long enough to realise it's the dragon who has him, lifting him from the remnants of the gallery with her teeth, and gives a single hiccuping laugh.

'WHY DOES EVERYTHING THINK WE'RE A KITTEN!?' Blue shrieks in the back of his mind before he's drowned out and washed away by relief and borderline hysteria.

The dragon places him on the stone floor beside her neck on her bad side, then turns her attention away.

He needs a potion, no it won't be enough, he needs a fairy. No time, and it doesn't matter, he's where he needs to be. Almost.

Get up. Get up, get up, get up!

He rolls on to his side and gazes up at her weeping black wound, the blood is too thick, a toxic muck spilling from it. Her leg uselessly folded beneath her as the ichor stains the stone floor slick and dark. He can't stand it.

Get up! Get up! If we are going to die it will be on our fucking feet!

Everything feels broken or fractured, and he doesn't know what's wrong inside him but he thinks maybe he's bleeding out. One hand and arm are less damaged than the other and he uses it to push himself up, then draws his sword, jams the point into a seam between the pavers and uses it to haul himself to his feet, the pain as he grits his teeth lost in all the others.

He sways, one foot hurting, but the other definitely badly broken, a crush of broken flesh and bones contained by his boot. Don't faint, don't faint. The darkness at the edge of his sight threatens everything, tunnelling his vision. There's nothing else in the world but him and the dragon; Link and Zelda. Mismatched perhaps, but a Link and a Zelda none the less.

He moves forward a step, his hands as tight on the sword as he can manage to keep himself upright.

The dragon tilts her head towards him, just a little.

He jerks the sword forward and staggers another step, hobbling to drag his bad (worse, they're both bad) foot.

She moves her head closer to him, inspecting him with one unblinking, rainbow eye.

A final step. Four lets the sword droop and presses his bloody hands up against the soft white fur of her cheek, giving a sob of relief, of grief and fear, of pride, and a score of other emotions. She is so warm. He made it, everything hurts so much, but he made it. One way or another it will end here.

They are the same in their own odd way, the bodies they were born in replaced with something new. She is more magic than him, she is more everything, and maybe he'll be lost in that, consumed, but he wants to try. That's all it comes down to in the end, he wants to save her, and he thinks he can. He wants to bring her home.

He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against her as he reaches for the magic of the stone at her core, and for that of the very weft of her being.

One Light construct to another.

And feels it connect, a stream touching a mighty river, it washes back into him, and it is So Much. It is more than he can hold. It will tear him apart and carry him away.

But Four is here for a reason, he must be.

'No objections?' Nothing. He is afraid, and hurting as bad as he can ever remember, but there is no flicker of disagreement.

And for all his flaws and foibles, he's never been one to lack in self confidence.

Reckless, but it's only stupid if it doesn't work, right?

He knows what it feels like, for flesh and bone to be unwoven and changed. To be unmade. Knows it from every angle, with every part of his soul. And they reach for it again.

The Hero of Light thinks he's died five times.

First as Link.

Then as Green, Red, Blue, and Vio.

Four lets himself come apart.

And makes it six.

Chapter Text

It is dark. Not true dark, but the gloaming before dawn, the dark before eyes adjust. Before eyes fully form.

He doesn't hurt anymore, he supposes that body is gone like the Link of six months ago, like Green, Red, Blue, and Vio. Absorbed into the Light Dragon and her Secret Stone the way they were absorbed by the Four Sword. If he got it right anyway.

But he exists in some form still, and from here he will find his way.

He hopes the others don't have time to realise, he doesn't want to cause them pain.

There is a hand in his, a strong grip from delicate fingers, pulling and guiding him along, just like Zelda has done a thousand times before. He walks with a steady pace on steady feet he's not entirely sure existed before he noticed them.

It is a woman, not a girl, that comes into focus; graceful and beautiful in a way real people never are, all in white with long, sleek golden hair.

She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him, the shape of it is like his best friend's and some part of him loves her instantly.

"Thank you for coming all this way," the Goddess says.

He goes to say something, to ask something, but he can already guess at the answers, and as it turns out there is no time. The dark burns away in an instant, blinding him.

And then it is clear.

Four stands in the Sanctum, right where he had been standing before. It's quiet, peaceful, an odd blue-gold light permeating it, he can see unnaturally low clouds glowing with it outside.

The damage is still there, the collapsed roof, and holes in the floor, and wreckage of the walkway that fell on him, but the monsters are gone. Though at the far edges of the space dark shadows pool and reach in, clouding like ink in water, intruding into the calm sanctuary.

He is not alone.

A little distance away sleeps a woman, gently floating in the air, buoyed by some unknown magic. He notices this, and then stops paying attention because around him, standing a shadow's length away in the four cardinal directions, are the Colours.

Not quite solid, not quite whole. Each a ghost. A quarter of an existence. But here none the less.

And they see him.

"Link!" Red tackles him in a hug, and despite his washed out look he feels real and warm, solid like a person, "Link! Link! Link! You're here too!"

"What?" Breathes Green, looking at him owl eyed.

"This will probably be the only time it's ever the five of us." Four realises it as Vio says the words and he turns his head around to look at him and Blue. Vio steps forward to wrap his arms around them too, and Four understands regrets and missed chances.

Blue and Green are on them a moment later, and then Red's crying and Four is a bit too, and Green's laughing, and Blue's punching his arm just because he can again, and Vio is just pressing his forehead close and Four knows he wants to say sorry for the loss and pain they share, but it's okay because then he's laughing too, and it aches but he's so happy too and they're here, they're here!

And just for a moment, the only moment they will ever have, it's the five of them.

They stay like that for a time, just being together, finally Four lifts his head and looks out for… Vio catches his eye and gives him a sad smile. They are here, his soul in all its forms, but there is no sign of Shadow. He'll never meet him.

He closes his eyes, letting himself feel it, letting himself hold them and be held, and then it's time, this is not what he came here for.

"Okay," Four says finally, and Green picks up the sentence, "We've got a job to do."

They let each other go.

"Saving the Princess!" Declares Red and bounces over to the the woman who must be the Princess Zelda, the rest of them following more sedately. They seem more solid than when they first appeared.

Four was expecting her to be more like Zelda, his Zelda —with her big strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and sharp features— even if logically there's no reason the resemblance should be strong.

Instead she's a cousin rather than a sister, so to speak. He's not surprised about her being around Wild's age either, yet somehow she's still not what he pictured, with her soft features and short golden blonde hair. Still, the resemblance is there. He wonders if this is his best friend's many times great-granddaughter.

Blue pokes her cheek.

"Do not," Green hisses.

Four takes her hand and feels for the pulse in her wrist instead, she's warm but still, nothing, "Um…" he says.

Red and Vio are both looking at her curiously before finally Red takes her other hand, closes his eyes for a long moment then rocks back on his heels.

"Light magic," he declares, pointing outside at the bluish clouds, then to Zelda, "Time magic."

Vio nods in agreement, then Four gets it, "She has two alignments, not just Light."

Red grins at him, encouraging, so he continues, "The dragon, her physical form, is Light magic, but it's temporal magic here keeping her sleeping and unchanged."

"Yep," chirps Red.

Green frowns, "Can we break that spell?"

Red, Vio, and Four shrug as one.

"What if we wake her up?" Blue asks.

Vio shrugs again, "That might have the same effect presuming she's the one holding the time spell. I think it'd make things easier, then she could help getting back."

Green turns to him, "How?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Red asks with an innocence Four does not trust. "You gotta kiss the princess!"

"What!" "No!" Green and Blue yell while, Four just stammers something between it, the three of them flustered.

"Oh fascinating," Vio considers, looking between Four and the other two .

"Don't 'fascinating' me!" Blue yells and Four hisses, then both simultaneously drop their faces into their hands realising what they've done.

Red starts laughing about a second before Four does, then after a moment the others join.

"No kissing sleeping girls," Green huffs at Red, "It's un-chivalrous."

"I'm sure if she had a choice between a kiss and sleeping for all eternity she'd take the kiss," Red points out mildly.

Blue squints at him, "You don't actually think that would work do you?"

"He doesn't," Four says, and Red just grins at him teasing. There's a warm feeling in his chest.

"Well," Vio says, "Link can probably pull her out then worry about the waking later."

"Four," Four corrects, and is surprised that it shakes him a little to do so. To ever tell the four of them he's something else.

"Yeah?" Green asks, and so Four points at them in turn.

"Green Link, Red Link, Blue Link, Vio—" "—let—" chimes Red, "—Link," and Four points to himself, "Four Link… or Links." He's not quite sure on that.

"I get it," says Red, because of course he would, "You're one of us, not just us as one."

Four just swallows heavily and shrugs.

"If that's what you want that's what we'll use," Blue agrees easily. Vio nods in assent.

"Nice to meet you!" Red leaps to hug him again, getting in as many as he can, and Green just groans.

"We're getting off topic again."

The light darkens a little, like the sun vanishing behind a cloud. They all still, and the Colours seem to fade a little, losing whatever vibrancy they gained since they first materialised.

"Oh," says Red, "I think we should go. It was kind of them to give us this chance."

Blue frowns, "What do you mean go?"

"There's a lot of power here, you know? But she needs that to hold back the dark. We're draining it by existing." He smiles at Four sadly, "You'll be enough on your own, you've got all of us inside you anyway."

"You're the best of us," Green tells him.

Four shakes his head, "I'm not."

"You are," Vio reassures him.

He shakes his head harder, "I'm not as sure and determined as Green, I can't fight as well as Blue, I don't have Red's heart or Vio's brain."

"Yeah, but you're not a stuffy goody two-shoes like Green either," Blue chips in entirely too quickly.

"And you're not a short tempered dumbass like Blue," Green snips back.

"Hey!" "You started it!"

Red ignores them, grabbing on to Four's sleeve instead, "I would have cried way more. I would be sooooo clingy."

"You'll never be as cold as I can be," Vio looks him in the eye, and it feels like a promise but Four's not sure on whose side, "You'll never forget what's important."

"You're the best of us without the worst of us," Green tells him.

"Don't ever doubt it," Blue adds, "Don't ever forget it."

"No matter how long it takes you to recover," Red says softly.

Vio gives him an amused, and perhaps a little sheepish smile, "And even if you're always a little messy."

Blue steps over to give his shoulder a fond shove, "No matter if we never split again."

Green takes his other hand, "We're proud to be you."

"We love you," Red promises, "Absolutely."

"Now go save Zelda." They grab him in a final hug, and then they're gone.

He wipes away tears before they can fall then catches sight of his tunic and laughs. Not Legend's blue one anymore, or his old dark green, not undyed beige like he thought maybe his should be, but four colours in quadrants, the same as their tunics, and dark green hood for Link, or him, maybe there's no difference.

'Stop being dramatic,' Blue prods from the back of his mind, 'We're always right here.'

"Right, right," Four laughs out loud to the silence, then exhales, "Proud to be you too."

He goes back to Zelda. Let's solve this, let's solve this. He supposes he could just scoop her up and try to carry her out? No wait, the stone! He needs to get the stone first! It's there on her collarbone, held on a necklace. It seems wrong to take it off her, but he supposes he might need to.

"Mmmm," he grumbles to himself. If he could break the magic she'd probably wake up, or if he could wake her up it would probably break the magic.

Think, think, think. Okay, say he can't break it. He can probably get her Hylian again regardless and then he can see if one of the others can break the spell and—

Wait.

Oh. Oh! That's what they're here for! That's what Legend's here for!

Four to retrieve the Princess and Legend to wake her.

There's two spells here, and their job is to undo one each! Four to break through the transformation magic and Legend the enchanted sleep.

'When I was fifteen I had saved three kingdoms… and woken a sleeping god.'

Legend played a song there in the ruins of the village, that burned the last cobwebs of sleep from his mind like a wildfire.

And Four… he paid attention. That part of him that is a knowledge hording know-it-all was paying attention! Because here he is in the probable future, eyes open for learnings and technologies to take home, and Legend played an obviously magic song.

It's worth a shot!

He finds his pouch on his belt and rummages around in it for his ocarina. It shouldn't be here, but neither should anything else, and there is an element of manifesting in this unreal place. Four's hand closes on the instrument.

It takes him a couple of tries, he hasn't played the song before and while he has a good ear for music he doesn't get much time to practice. Still, once he hits on the song correctly he knows. That feeing of loss bubbles up again and a longing, wistful, melody rings out across the false sanctum, his chest aches as the final notes fade.

Then the Princess stirs, and her eyes crack open.

He has to lunge to catch her as she falls from her float in the air. He's strong but he is, admittedly, not big enough for the suitably heroic princess carry of a grown woman.

"What?" She wonders for a brief, confused moment, then blinks at him, "Hello?"

"Hi."

A moment of awkward silence, neither of them knowing what the appropriate way to start this very weird conversation is before she realises she's in his arms and is very soon about to not be. The woman half falls to her feet, then shakily drops to the ground laughing.

Four joins her, both in the dropping and the laughing.

"I'm sorry," she says politely, "I'm a bit confused…"

"It's okay," Four tells her, "It's confusing."

"Do…" She looks at him in that curious, clever way, already trying to put everything together, to clear the long sleep from her head. "Do I know you?"

"I.. Four, I'm Four. I'm a friend of Link's,"

"Link…" She frowns, "I remember…"

"You're Princess Zelda, and you're the dragon," he says gently and she looks at him sharply, realising.

"It's okay," Four tells her again, "I'm here to help you, to make you Hylian again."

"How? How are you here?" There is a control to her voice he has no doubt is a hard won thing. "Where are we? Did he get the sword? Did he defeat Ganon?"

"Oh yeah, it worked, he beat him, but you got bit during the fight," he gestures towards the encroaching darkness, "It—" —It's killing you— "It's making you sick, but I think maybe I can get you out so I'm here."

"…he found someone who could—?"

"I got kidnapped by a portal. I think the Goddess of Light is involved. Time travel is definitely involved. He didn't so much find me as I'm pretty sure I was brought in to help."

She blinks at him then laughs again, "This is so strange."

He grins in return, "So strange."

"Where are we? Is this the Sanctum? Why is it so…"

"You, uh, fell on it," he says apologetically, it feels rude somehow, "We were here in the real world.

This is in the spell construct of the dragon? Or something. Weird soul plane something-or-other. I don't know."

"I apologise for the trouble."

"Don't, this was my choice." He didn't have to take the final steps to get here, maybe the portal wasn't his choice but everything else was.

She brings the topic back around. "You can change me back?"

"I think so, yes."

"How?"

The part of him that's Vio is itching to go into detail but he tries to rein it back.

"The dragon didn't get that big by eating cattle, that body was made by magic. Even if it's flesh and blood, it's not born of flesh and blood.

I didn't become four people by chopping myself in four—" "—What?—" "—We can discuss the nature of my existence later. My point is they were also made of magic and when I went back to being one person, that new body was also also made by magic, that's how I was able to get here. I'm a Light magic construct too."

His body in the real world probably dissolved into Light or something, but she doesn't need to know that. It's fine. "So I have gone through the remaking process five times now, and I'm bringing you with me for the sixth.

I am here, part of the construct that is you now, and we have a Secret Stone —an amplifier— and I know what the remaking spell feels like.

It's time to go home, to be Zelda again instead of the Light Dragon."

"I… are you sure? I went into this knowing… I didn't think there was a way out." Maybe she doesn't dare believe this strange dream.

He grins wider and and stands, "I" Four declares, putting one hand to his chest, all reassuring bravado, "Will go down in history as the Hero of Light. Just you wait! If there's anyone made for the job it's me."

She laughs behind one hand the same way his Zelda does, "Who am I to doubt such an upstanding young man? Okay," she stands, head held high, "Let's do it."

She takes the Secret Stone from its necklace and holds it out to him. Instead of taking it, he takes both of her hands, the Stone held in his left and her right. It thrums with power the same way Tulin's did, but he doesn't need it to try to overload himself this time. It's not just power, it amplifies his natural ability. He breathes in, breathes out, and constructs that feeling again.

He knows what it feels like to be remade too.

"Are you ready?"

"For ten-thousand years."

"Then follow me."

It's actually easier than he was expecting. He rebuilds that feeling, that twist of magic he's seen from every angle, and the Stone is there to make it true. Her magic joins his, a united light. For a brief moment the false world seems to fold in on itself, packing away like luggage in a trunk, light and darkness collapsing in. Magic hums in his soul.

He steps backwards onto true stone of the Sanctum, Princess Zelda's hands warm in his. He draws a breath all the way deep into his lungs. The world comes into focus, sound returning and that blue-gold light and creeping darkness gone, replaced by the last blush of dusk.

He doesn't hurt, nothing hurts at all, and he's still in that quadri-coloured tunic and he feels… right, comfortable in his own skin.

He did it. He did it! He laughs and Zelda stumbles on Hylian feet.

"Four!" "Zelda!" Voices call overlapping.

He glances up at her and gets the briefest moment to realises there's still a problem. Her left shoulder and collarbone are dark, greying, and something sharp juts from it. She lets go of his hand and reaches up to grab the thing and rip it free with a cry, blood and that black ichor weep from the wound.

She flings whatever it is away and with the motion accidentally sends the Stone with it. By instinct Four turns to watch it, even as he tightens his hand on the one of hers he still holds.

The Secret Stone tumbles and rolls to a stop a couple of steps from Legend, who has some wrought expression looking at the two of them he hasn't thought to hide yet.

Four's gaze shifts to blade that was in her shoulder, no, a wicked looking grey and black… tooth? A fang. Broken off or pulled out and lodged there when the Ganon Dragon bit her. It rests in a puddle of that thick black blood and ichor. He shivers and Zelda's hand hangs limp in his, the arm seeming dead, she presses her good arm against the injury. They need to get her a potion.

Legend, looking a little ragged but mostly uninjured, picks up the Secret Stone.

"Four!" Wars yells, the man is the closest to them, and realises the danger before Four does.

A pulse of Dark magic reverberates around the room like a shockwave from a bomb and the puddle of muck starts to ripple and boil, spreading out from the fang, connecting to the larger pool of blood and ooze spilled by the dragon.

Then it starts to take shape, lumps of the stuff stretching out from the ichor, scores of them, and forming into… hands, they look like arms and hands. Black and red with long, diseased looking nails, a nauseating field of them, then all at once a yellow eye opens in the centre of each one and they fix their gaze on him and the others.

Four startles, steps between them and the Princess, and picks up his dropped sword. He sees Tulin flutter to a piece of high debris and line up a shot, he's not flying as easily as he was before. The monsters seem to be mostly taken care of for the moment, but he doesn't trust there to not be more coming.

The dark around the fang itself keeps growing, bubbling higher and thicker than the hands, until it takes the shape of a person. A man he doesn't recognise, tall and strong looking, made of that same red-black substance as the hands. Corrupted dragon blood, gloom, the fang, and Four's hardly and expert in such things, but anything born of that evil soup of ingredients is Bad.

He shivers at the familiar dark magic bite in the air, somehow more toxic and unclean than Shadow's ever was. The man smirks at him and the Princess, the sea of monstrous hands writhing around him.

Wild marches forward across uneven ground, "Leave them!"

Slowly, smugly, that dark gaze turns from them to Wild, and the man smiles, baring teeth. The majority of then hands vanish back into the puddle of dark goop, which splits into smaller puddles that start to move. Vanishing under rubble and into dark corners, the last of the daylight almost gone.

Where did they go, where did they go!?

Then he inclines his head, taunting, and his eyes turn from Wild to Legend, who curls his fingers around the Secret Stone and holds it against his chest.

"Hey," Wild breaks back into the impending crisis, "do not let him get that."