Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Didn’t take ya f’r the babysittin’ type,” Twilight teased.

The captain raised his eyes towards the rancher just as Twilight blocked his light. Warriors smiled briefly in greeting, which Twilight took as an invitation. The rancher sat beside the captain on the bench, staring across a lawn of trampled grass. Children darted about the yard, chasing each other and playing games. A handful of them played marbles with rocks, a few others played some kind of sport with a wooden stick and a leather ball. Others sat in the grass plaiting chains of wildflowers together and there were a few doing cartwheels and handstands beneath a gnarled oak tree.

Warriors sighed through his nose. “I’m not,” he agreed.

Twilight sat with his legs wide, reaching into his shirt for his snuff tin. Warriors watched quietly as the rancher wedged a pearl of tobacco against his gum. Once he stowed the tin again, Twilight sat back without a word, tipping his face up to the afternoon sun.

“Bad day?” Warriors asked mildly.

Twilight shrugged. “Had worse.”

“But you’ve had better.”

The rancher nodded.

“The others…?”

“Market,” Twilight answered through a sigh. “Too noisy there.”

Warriors quirked a brow. “So you chose to sit near a bunch of children?”

“I chose to sit near you ,” Twilight snorted. “You’s havin’ a bad day too.”

Warriors paused, frowning slightly. “What of it?”

“Nothin’. Figure I’d just keep ya comp’ny for a bit. Kids get on your nerves, usually.”

Warriors tipped his head to his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. “Not all of them.”

“ Most of ‘em.”

The captain nodded, closing his eyes in thought. His mind drifted into the past, thumbing through memories of Tune and Mask. The captain had never been good with children. He was hardly allowed to be one himself, and he’d been friendless for nearly all of his brief childhood. He simply didn’t know what to do with them or how to talk to them. What Warriors struggled with came so naturally to Twilight, however. There wasn’t a child not immediately enamored with the rancher. Any time they were anywhere with kids, they’d be all over Twilight’s shoulders and legs, showing him their little treasures and dragging him from one end of the village to the other.

“You’re an orphan,” Warriors said as he opened his eyes.

“Yep,” Twilight said. “Ain’t you?”

“I am.” Warriors frowned, glancing up as the children’s leather ball rolled through the grass towards them. “And so are they.”

The ball came to rest just outside of the men’s reach. Warriors wondered for a moment if he should grab it, but the rancher beat him to it. Twilight swept the ball up from the grass, eyeing it over curiously. He glanced up as two boys ran through the field, shoving one another as they squabbled about who lost it and whether or not it was out of bounds.

“Looking for something?” Twilight called, holding the ball overhead.

The boys froze, hesitating before they drew near. The younger one hid behind the older one, both of them very openly staring at Twilight’s markings. It always reminded Warriors of a butterfly with wings imitating an owl. Beneath his appearance, Twilight was usually harmless.

“It’s alright,” Twilight soothed. “Here, take it.”

“Thanks,” the older one got out, reaching for the ball.

Twilight smiled warmly, handing it over. The two boys traded a brief look, clearly relieved they weren’t in for a scolding.

“Who’s winning?” the rancher asked.

The younger one lit up. “We are!” he cried.

“You are not!” the older one argued. “ We’re winning.”

“We’ve got more points!”

“Yeah, well you guys cheated!”

Twilight rolled his eyes with a chuckle, shooing the two away. They took off, pushing each other all the way back to their makeshift court.

“Orphans?” Twilight asked, glancing back at the captain.

Warriors nodded. “Most of their parents were lost in the war.”

“Well, they seem healthy,” Twilight said. “‘N they got time f’r play.”

“They live there,” Warriors explained, pointing towards a squat, long building. “They’re in school in the mornings and have chores in the afternoon. Once their work’s done, they have free rein until dinnertime.”

“Worse ways t’ live.”

“Better ones, too.”

The rancher shrugged, sitting on the bench again. “S’ long as they’re healthy.”

Warriors shook his head, frustration on his face. “They’re growing up without their parents. Some of them are siblings—some are cousins . Entire bloodlines, whole generations—if I could give it back I would.”

“You didn’t take it,” Twilight reminded the captain.

“I might as well have,” Warriors hissed.

Twilight frowned softly, scrutinizing the captain for one agonizingly long beat. Warriors looked away, self-conscious then.

“We lost fam’lies in the invasion too,” Twilight said finally.

“ You didn’t cause it—”

“It was my destiny,” Twilight said. “It was destin’ t’ pass ‘cuz I’s around, weren’t it?”

“No, you were around because you were needed to stop it.”

“‘N so’s you.”

Warriors bristled. “You don’t understand—”

“Cap’n, I understand perfec’. It ain’t your fault.”

Warriors shook his head, weaving his fingers over the back of his neck as he tucked his face down. His knee bounced in agitation. Most people always told the captain it wasn’t his fault to his face, but behind his back, he knew what was said. There were those bold enough to tell him directly, those who showed up in front of the royal court demanding his head on a pike, or to at least be stripped of all his titles and exiled. Because of him, people died and when they did, they left behind their parents, siblings, and children.

“You’re lingerin’ too much,” Twilight said, voice quiet. “You ain’t able t’ give ‘em back mos’ things they lost, but ya c’n give ‘em a future.”

“Is that enough?” Warriors asked dryly.

“It’s gotta be,” Twilight replied. “Look at ‘em now, cap’n. They’s well ‘nough to play games, to do work like ya says ‘n to learn too. That ain’t what regret looks like. They got their whole lives ahead’a ‘em because you ended the war. You won.”

“I don’t feel like I won,” Warriors huffed.

“It’s a victory,” Twilight said with a wry smile, “not a miracle.”

Warriors sighed, nodding after a moment. “I do my best to stay above it all, but it’s difficult.”

“I know.”

“I’m supposed to be a hero, rancher. I’m a captain for Hylia’s sake. I have almost everything I ever wanted in life, I’ve fulfilled my purpose, and yet all I can do is sulk about some children who either don’t know me or know their parents are dead because of me.”

Twilight patted Warriors on the back. “Cap’n, you’re still just a man.” The rancher shrugged, leaning back on the bench. “Best advice I ever get was just ‘cuz you’s lost your purpose don’t mean y’ain’t useful f’r nothin’.”

Warriors looked over, knitting his brow. “I have very few skills outside of war, rancher. I’m not…I’m not like you. I don’t have a—a day job . All my work is in name only.”

“Then learn,” Twilight said simply. “Why aincha become a teacher ‘r som’thin’? Why not start makin’ yourself useful ‘round the orphanage? If ya wanna look after the kids, then just do it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“The only one stoppin’ you is yourself.”

Warriors gave the rancher one tired, annoyed expression. Tw ilight had a point, the captain knew as much. He hated moments like these, where he felt as if he were laid bare for anyone to see. The captain hid himself beneath piles of meaningless paperwork because he could hardly stand to face the public.

“You think I’m a coward.”

Twilight shook his head. “I think you’s scared, sure, but that ain’t make you a coward. You’s the hero of courage, Wars. You act in spite of fear, right? You face down, what? Sorceresses ‘n dragons ‘n time travel? You can handle some kids. I know you can.”

Warriors paused, feeling his throat knot tightly. Was it really the first time since the war that someone had expressed confidence in the captain? Was he really being encouraged to join the people he fought so desperately to save?

“I feel foolish,” the captain admitted, his voice wavering.

“Happens t’ the best of us.”

“Do you…do you really think I can…?”

Twilight only nodded.

The captain swallowed a sob, clamping his lips shut as tears burned his eyes. He turned the other way to wipe at his damp cheeks.

“...thanks,” Warriors managed.

Twilight smiled. “Anytime, cap’n. Want some alone time?”

Warriors shook his head. “You can—I’d like if you stayed. Just for a while.”

“Sure.”