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listerbirdloml · 10 months

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The Death of Your Dog, The Stretch of Our Skin.

Summary: At fourteen, Rowan's dog died. At fifteen, Jimmy's grandmother died. And now, at twenty, Lister has lost his father.

Characters: Alister 'Lister' Bird, Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Rowan Omondi, Piero Ricci, Chiara Ricci, Graham Duncan, Mention of Cecily Wills and Louise Bird.

Warnings: Death of an animal, grief, self effacing thoughts, strong language, minor violence, someone says the wh*re word, someone also tries to say a racial slur but they do not manage to.

Ships: Bicci kiss teehee

Word Count: 4.6k

just a little thing I wrote about the ark boys comforting one another through different types of grief. PLEASE BE KIND IVE NEVER PUBLISHED ANY WRITING BEFORE LMAO

Tilly Omondi.

When they were fourteen, Rowans dog died.

It had been a truly unremarkable day at school. They played in the music room, ate their lunch, attended their afternoon lessons, and then walked to Rowans. He had the better gaming system out of him and Jimmy, and he even had the new Red Dead Redemption game. He’d gotten his mum to buy it the day it came out, and now they were all excited to see how it was. Especially Lister, since he didn’t have a play station or anything of his own.

As they walked down the road to Rowans, conversation flew freely among them. Per usual, it was dominated by Lister and whatever random topic entered his mind. Jimmy was content to sit back and listen, chipping in whenever he thought of something relevant to say. Meanwhile, Rowan was more than happy to shut down particularly stupid conversations Lister started or rise up to the challenge whenever Lister turned to teasing him.

When they arrived at Rowans home, the three boys began untying their show laces and shucking off their winter coats. It wasn’t exactly freezing anymore, but it was cold enough for the jackets to still shelter them from the Kent winds. Earlier in the winter, Rowan noticed Listers coat wasn’t the warmest, so he’d given him one of his own under the guise of wanting to get rid of it.

When Rowan opened the door, the lack of four legs bounding towards them was immediately noticeable. Tilly, the Omondi family dog, was a little white Jack Russell with the sweetest of nature. She was a lap dog at heart, rarely barking. She was always found greeting anyone who entered their home at the door, her little tail wagging while she waited to be greeted in return.

"Mum?" Rowan called out pensively, thinking perhaps she’d taken an impromptu walk with the little dog. There was noise from the kitchen, as though someone was startled at the idea of Rowan being home at the time he was.

"Hi sweetheart." Came the call from Rowans mother, but she didn’t leave the kitchen. Lister thought he could hear a waver in her voice. But then again, he was starting to believe he was hardwired to detect the negative emotions people portrayed. even if they weren’t there. "Uh, Ro, can you come to the kitchen, please?" Rowan glanced at his two friends who waited in the doorway, all three clearly confused. With a gesture signalling the other two to wait, Rowan headed down the hallway and disappeared into his kitchen.

Standing just the two of them, Lister suddenly ran out of words. He was entirely focused on a loose thread in his school shirt, and Jimmy was too nervous to start a conversation himself. If it wasn’t in band practise or their shared history lesson, Jimmy found it difficult to talk with Lister. He found the other equally intimidating as he was admirable.

The blonde had definitely made huge progress with his confidence around the two friends, but deep down he was still pretty shy. He still held the fear that he was only there because he knew how to play the drums. He was a friend of convenience until Jimmy and Rowan could afford another drummer or even meet a better one. A drummer who wasn’t self-taught like he was, someone who could actually afford the lessons needed to become successful. While he still had these fears and and worries, he had begun to use them for the better. He was worried about being replaced in their band, and so he practised as hard as possible. He was worried about being replaced in their lives, and so he made as big a space for himself as he could. A space big enough that they would sorely miss him should he leave it.

"So uh-" Biting the bullet, Lister had gone to say something. But as he did, Rowan reappeared down the hallway, shoulders slumped, and face a mixture of shock and tears. All trace of nerves or awkwardness had immediately subsided from the two left in the hallway, both meeting Rowan half way. Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder, his own face contorted with worry. Lister didn’t doubt that Jimmy had thought up every single worst-case scenario he could.

"Tilly died."

There were two sharp inhales, and then silence.

Neither seemed particularly sure how to continue, but they both knew that their friend needed them. And so in a fluid motion, Lister and Jimmy had wrapped Rowan in a big group hug, pretending not to notice the way his body was wracked with sobs.

"There was a- a car." Rowans explanation was met with shushes. Lister knew that talking about it more would just upset Rowan, and he had plenty of time in the upcoming days to process the loss. Right now, he was allowed to just feel it. Feel it, with the safety of his two closest friends.

They stood in the Omondi garden, with Lister on one side of Rowan and Jimmy on the other. They both had a head leaning on Rowans shoulders, arms around his middle as he cried. His mother and sister had cried too, but nowhere near as much as Rowan. He had always been particularly close to the little dog.

His dad had just rested Tilly in the ground and let Rowan lay her favourite toys and treats with her before he began to refill the dirt.

Lister had never been to a funeral. Neither had Jimmy.

When Lister was ten, his grandmother on his dad's side passed away. Even though he had been very close with her, his dad didn’t want him at the funeral. He didn’t want Lister to have to stay the few days at his new home; his wife and new kids clearly objected to the older boy’s presence in what was their family home. It wasn’t exactly like he could own a pet either, the landlord of the flat he lived in with his mum was very clear about that.

Jimmy had never been to a funeral because no one in his family had died yet. There had been the rare distant aunty or several times great grand-something or other, but no one closely related to him. The thought alone of losing anyone in his family made him want to lie in the ground alongside Tilly.

"It’s okay, mate." It was Lister speaking, which wasn’t always the safest bet in a rocky situation. But Rowan was too upset to form words, and Jimmy was too scared he’d say the wrong ones.

There’s silence between the trio for a moment, until Lister starts speaking again. "Hey Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Can dogs go to heaven?"

"Well... they’re creatures made by God? So, I would assume so."

"Me too! I think if any creature on earth should enjoy an eternity of peace and happiness, it’s dogs. Not humans." He turned his body to face Rowan. "And when your time comes, you can wave up at her."

There’s silence before Rowan chokes out a loud and abrupt laugh. He covers his mouth, his shoulders shaking from laughter even as the tears freely flow down his cheeks. Jimmy can’t help but begin to chuckle too, even if he himself had been tearing up. And when Lister joined them, they came together again in a group hug, sandwiching Rowan.

Joan Ricci.

Jimmy wasn’t in school today.

While Lister himself had missed more classes this year than possibly anyone else in their school, and Rowan wasn’t immune to the odd sick day, Jimmy was never sick. And even if he was, he made his way to school for fear of missing anything important and having his schoolwork snowball.

The most concerning thing about his absence, however, was that he hadn’t responded to any texts from the two boys. He hadn’t even read their group chat either. And now, at four o’clock in the afternoon, the two were headed to the Ricci house, sat on the bus in silence. Thankfully, Lister no longer felt awkward in the presence of one of them alone. He still felt incredibly aware of the split between them, between childhood best friends and drummer, but it no longer prevented him from connecting with either Jimmy or Rowan.

He had just come to accept that he would forever be the odd one out. the one who lived on the council estate, the one whose mum had him as a teen, the one with an estranged dad. He could never compare to Jimmy and Rowan, with their private music lessons and middle-class homes. The kind that weren’t even attached to the houses next to it and were made of the fancy looking red brick.

"What if he's, like, dead?" Rowan interrupted the silence, looking down at his still-unanswered text to their friend. Lister sighed and lightly shoved the bassist on the shoulder. They were almost at the bus stop near Jimmy's grandparents home.

"Mate, you sound like Jimmy when you think like that.

With a reluctant sigh of agreement, Rowan followed Lister out of their seats and down the aisle of the bus to wait at the door for the driver to let them off.

As they walked the last few minutes to the Ricci household, Lister could feel dread settling in his stomach. He didn’t know what for, or why it decided to make itself at home in his gut, but he almost had to stop walking. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. He wasn’t sure if it was with Jimmy or what, but he was definitely more eager to pick up the pace to the Riccis to ensure their singer and best friend were okay.

The first thing they noticed about the Ricci household was the cars parked outside. Neither of Jimmy's grandparents could drive anymore, and Jimmy wasn’t even old enough for a provisional licence yet, let alone a car.

But for some reason, there was four or five cars around the driveway and road in front. Lister glanced at Rowan, the taller one seeming confused as well. But instead of looking at Lister, he kept walking, jogging up the steps, and ringing the doorbell. Lister soon joined him, hands wringing together uncharacteristically. Through the stained glass of the front door, he was sure he could hear soft murmurs from the living room. way more voices than the three inhabitants of the Ricci home. Soon a figure from the inside was moving down the hallway to open the door, and it was immediately apparent it wasn’t Pierreo or Joan. This person moved far too quickly, and before Lister could say anything else, the door was opened.

It was a woman that Lister had never met before, but he could tell instantly who she was. She was tall, about the only thing that didn’t resemble their friend. But the shape of her eyes, the curve of her nose, and the slant of her jaw was almost entirely Jimmy. The grumpy frown was the splitting image.

She had only glanced at their uniforms before she sighed and went to shut the door. "Jimmy can’t come out right now."

"Wait!" Lister cried out, sticking his foot in the doorway. The woman looked mildly infuriated, and distantly, Lister couldn’t help but think this was a terrible first impression with Jimmy's mother. "Is he okay? He hasn’t answered us, and he wasn’t at school. We were just…" Lister trailed off as he caught sight of Piero walking out of the living room.

"Pierro?" Rowan called out, and Lister could hear the apprehension in his tone. The old man’s face had sunken even since they’d seen him at the weekend. They’d been celebrating Rowans fifteenth a week early, and Joan had managed to get out of bed to bake him a huge cake before they had band practise. But now, Pierros eyes looked red-rimmed, and he was leaning heavily on his walking stick with every step.

"Boys," he sighed, joining his daughter in the doorway. Lister was the closest to him, with his foot still in the door. Pierro opened up the arm not relying on the cane, and Lister quickly accepted it for what it was: a hug.

"Is Jimmy okay? Did something happen?" It was Rowan again, and as he pulled away from the old man and glanced at Jimmy's mum, who still stood watching, Lister couldn’t blame the worry in his voice. If Rowan was feeling anything as unease’d as Lister in the presence of the usually aloof CEO, then Lister was unsure how Rowan was so well at hiding it.

"Boys." It seemed that Pierro couldn’t say anything else; his voice was fading. "This morning… Joan passed this morning."

The dread in Listers stomach had spread to his whole body, his heart aching as it pounded a mile a minute in his chest. He couldn’t form words, but tears had begun to well in his eyes.

"What? no… No she… What?" Rowan was scrambling to find the right words. He hadn’t begun to cry yet, but Lister knew it was from shock. His own tears were spilling onto his cheeks already.

"I’m sorry, boys." Pierro shook his head, and as though they were driven by the same force, Rowan and Lister descended on the old man with bone-crushing hugs. He tried his best to reciprocate them, but Lister could feel the quiver of his hands and the shallowness of his breath.

When they pulled apart, Lister wiped at his face a little too aggressively, but his shoulders were still high to his face, and he was still shivering from the force of his tears.

"Jimmys upstairs. I think he might like to see the both of you."

When they opened the door on the furthest end of the upstairs corridor, they noticed the lights were off and the curtains were drawn. There was a figure sitting up on the bed, a blanket draped over their head as they seemingly stared into space.

Pushing the door over further, the creak of it and the intrusion of the hallway light made Jimmy turn his head, the blanket falling to instead rest on his shoulders. His face was void of emotion, but even from where he stood in the doorway, Lister could see how puffy and red it looked compared to normal. Cheeks that still carried baby fat were raw with tears and the motions of wiping them away. Rowan and Lister had only just managed to compose themselves.

No one of the trio said anything; instead, the two newest additions to the room made their way over and sat on either side of the singer. He managed a small smile, trying to convey his appreciation for their attempts at comfort.

"She died." He croaked out, looking between them. Lister had a hand up to Jimmy's face, carefully moving some of Jimmy's shaggy hair out of the way of his face and behind his ear.

"We know, Jimjam." His voice was so foreign, even to himself. It was soft in a way he didn’t know he possessed anymore. He couldn’t help but think he almost sounded like his mum. The hand that had been fixing Jimmy's hair now rested gently on his shoulder, and he used it to bring the smaller one into a hug.

They could feel Rowans arms wrap around them, Jimmy circled. If Lister wasn’t the token atheist of their little group, he would think that it was symbolic or something. The wings of an angel maybe.

They should write a song about that.

Alister Bird.

Bringing a hand up to his earpiece and pulling it out, the full noise of the crowd hit Lister instantly. It was the end of their first show back, and now only Lister stood on the stage. Jimmy and Rowan had already made their exit, and now, standing up from his drum kit and holding his sticks in the air, it was Lister's turn.

He was panting, and he’s sure he looked like a sweaty mess, but the crowd was losing their minds, and he had never felt more alive. He jumped down from the platform where his drum kit was stationed and exited off the side of the stage towards Rowan and Jimmy, who were waiting for him. They both were panting and sweaty, but the grins on their faces resembled their thirteen-year-old selves so much that Lister didn’t care about it when he dragged them into a group hug, jumping up and down from excitement.

"That was fucking class." Lister managed out, his arm still wrapped around Jimmy's shoulders when they pulled away, his boyfriend (boyfriend!) leaning onto him.

"Profound as always, Alister." Rowan teased, the both of them pretending to fight for a moment or so longer before they were all ushered away from the backstage area and towards the dressing rooms.

Jimmy held a firm grip on his hand, and when they found an area secluded enough, he used it to detour them into a hidden crevice. His hands balled into fists around Listers shirt, and he used it to push him against the wall.

Lister laughed, but his chest was still heaving. "Jimjam, slow down." He could see the way the singers eyes drooped, the way they seemed fully focused on the way Listers lips moved around his words. He kept leaning in to try and kiss them, but Lister was feeling mischievous. He kept holding the singer away.

"Lis, I swear to God." He had a glare on his face, trying to appear intimidating. He failed to realise that to Lister, he did the exact opposite. Feeling empathy for the clearly desperate singer and giving into his own urge to kiss his boyfriend stupid, Lister leaned down and pressed their lips together.

He could feel Jimmy relaxing in his hold. He could feel the heat radiating from the frontman's body after the long show, and he could still hear the commotion of the crowd as the lights were turned on and they were ushered out of the venue. It was hard for Lister to believe that he was lucky enough to experience this. Not just the resurrection of his passion for music, but also the chance he’d been given to live a life by Jimmy's side. He’d lived in the frontman's shadow all these years, but now he had been given permission to love him. To kiss him freely without the guilt of another drunken mishap. To hug him without feeling that he had ill intentions.

He hoped the way he held Jimmy could convey all this. It was difficult to show the full extent of your love with only one arm around the middle. To share your soul with someone in the hopes they’ll accept it and, in turn, share their own.

His hands were in Jimmy's hair now, tugging at the strands on the back of his neck. Jimmy's hair had thankfully recovered from the years in which he straightened it, and now it was styled in its more natural waves. It was thick and bushy, and when Lister needed something to do with his hands, he would try to braid it. It wasn’t quite long enough for that, though, as Jimmy still preferred it short.

"Mr Bird."

The voice made both stars jump, with Lister keeping hold of Jimmy until he could see who it was who had interrupted them. He only hoped to God that it wasn’t a fan. But then again, not many Ark fans were middle-aged, bald white men with security written in bold letters over their chests. If this was a disguise to get backstage, it was a damn good one.

"Sorry to bother you, sir. But there’s a gentleman here who says he needs to talk with you." The man held a hand to his earpiece, turning away slightly as he likely received more information. Lister's thoughts had begun to run wild. He wasn’t sure who it could possibly be. He hadn’t spoken to any hookups in months and hadn’t initiated any since he and Jimmy had been talking. The guard turned back to them, ignoring Jimmy entirely. "A Graham Duncan, sir."

While it was clear the name didn’t ring any bells to Jimmy, Lister had sucked in a breath through his teeth so deeply that Jimmy could feel his chest move with it. Lister gently nudged at Jimmy's shoulder, urging him to back up so that Lister could move away from the wall.

"How did he get in?"

"His ID, Mr. Bird. Miss Cecily has a list of approved names, and he was on it, sir."

Lister sighed and rubbed at his forehead, post-show high clearly gone as he looked back to Jimmy.

"There he is!"

There’s excitement in the voice, but the room is silent around him. Rowan was sat on the couch farthest from the door, Lister stood from where he’d been sitting on the sofa, and Jimmy still sat next to his old spot. The father and son stared at each other for a few tense moments. Listers face was unreadable as he crossed his arms over his chest. Graham looked as though he'd been here to joke around with his son, coming close and punching him lightly on the shoulder.

"What you been up to then, boyo?" Lister could see Rowan raise an eyebrow at this, his face screaming, 'What does it look like we’ve been up to?' But Graham didn’t seem bothered by waiting for a response from Lister. He looked around at the two other members of the band, likely not wanting a crowd for his conversation with his oldest son.

"What do you want?" There was no pleasantry in Listers tone. He felt no need to pretend. To act like he and his dad had spoken since he’d turned ten, since his half brother was born and he himself was thrown to the side. Lister was the child born from a teenage mistake to the woman Graham had married for only two years before cheating with another woman. He wasn’t something Graham wanted to remember. And yet, he stood in their dressing room as though they were old buddies.

Graham laughed, spluttering on words for a moment as he clearly struggled to find what to say. "I can’t come see you then?" He landed on, earning a scoff from Lister, who walked away from the older man and made his way to the refreshment table in the corner. It was obvious to those who knew him that he was acting on instinct. Looking for something to drink. Looking for something to take the pressure of the situation off. But of course, there was no alcohol on the table anymore. Just water and juice. The juice would have to do.

"Ally, don’t be like that. You’ve no seen your auld man in donkeys, and this is how you want to act?"

"Lister." It was Rowan who had corrected him, sitting up on the couch and levelling Graham with a glare. While he knew very little of Listers family, he knew that this man was no father. He had just so happened to be Listers biological parent. There was nothing more between them.

"What do you want?" Lister asked again, holding the juice bottle to his lips and drinking almost half of it in one go.

Graham once again looked like he was about to obfuscate, but dropped it when Lister went to turn away from him again. "The house, Alister. It’s gone up... Me and Maria are struggling."

Rowan and Jimmy looked at each other, utter disbelief written over their features. The gaul of the man who had neglected their friend since he was a toddler to then come to him and ask for financial aid?

It would appear Lister also caught the irony, laughing bitterly as he finished the rest of his drink. "The house I have never been to? The house the woman you cheated on my mother with asked you to buy, so that you could play happy families while me and mum rotted away in a fucking council flat?" With each sentence, Listers voice rose higher and higher. "That fucking house?" He rounded the sofas to once again stand in front of the now angry man.

"You can fuck right off." Lister hissed, pointing to the door.

"I am your father, Alister. I helped raise you. You might look back on it now and scoff with all your multi-millions, but it was the damned best I could do." He was shouting too now, poking lister repeatedly on the chest. Rowan and Jimmy had stood up, fearing the worst with Lister's temper.

"You gave my mum fifteen fucking quid a month."

"It was all I had, Alister!" But Lister wouldn’t accept that. He threw the bottle across the room, watching as it grazzed past his father's head.

"Get out!"

"You are fucking pathetic. Your mother did about as much as I did, and you bought the stupid bitch a house? You give her money so she can prance about like she wasn’t some little fucking whore. And now, you’re acting like some big rockstar." He looked at Rowan and Jimmy. "But its just you and two fucking da-"

Graham Duncan didn't get to finish whatever hateful words he had wished to shout, as Lister had slammed his fist right into the centre of his face, feeling satisfied at the crunch of bone he felt and the cry that carried out through the room. The older man seemed to be torn between hitting back and staggering away, but the door was already open, and security was swarming Graham, dragging him out.

"Lis." Jimmy’s hand was on Listers shoulder from behind him, and Rowan was also taking a step closer so that he could make sure his friend was okay. Listers shoulders were hunched, and his face contorted as though he were in physical pain.

"Why... why doesn’t he care? Why does he..." He had begun to cry, and Jimmy was quick to tug him down by the shoulders in a hug. He rubbed at the drummer's back as he cried, shushing him gently to try and calm him down. Rowan also had a hand on Lister's shoulder.

"It's okay, Lis. he's gone." The bassist reassured. The drummer turned his head to look at Rowan, a small and appreciative smile on his tear-stained face.

"Well, he seemed lovely." Jimmy sighed, and Lister couldn’t stop the wet laugh he let out, rubbing at his eyes.

"A fucking delight, right?"

The three of them can’t help their giggles. Rowan quickly checked Lister's fist to be sure he hadn’t hurt it.

No matter how much it had hurt Lister to be confronted by his father, he felt comfort in the fact that he’d always been right about the man. He didn’t care about Lister or his mother. He only cared about himself and what he could get out of people. Perhaps it was a good thing that Lister had been raised by his hard-working and considerate mother. As much as he used to long for a father in his life, he knew now he was better off without him. It was his job to grow up to be a better man. not because of his father, but to spite him, to show him that not everyone was doomed to fall headfirst into the bottle and to never make it out. No. he had reason to live. to live happily.

"If I ever become a dad, I am never asking him for advice." Lister sniffed out, Rowan and Jimmy laughing as they pulled him in for a group hug.

#i was born for this #iwbft #lister bird #jimmy kaga ricci #rowan omondi #the ark #osemanverse #boo we hate listers dad #Pierro Ricci #pls be kind i’m so scared to post this LOL #name is from view between villages by noah kahan

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 years

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Aftermath (Skyward Sword sickfic)

This is technically just a bonus chapter for A Dragon’s Care to explain what happened to Link, but you can totally read this as a standalone too. It isn’t really graphic, but there is one part that might gross people out, fair warning.

The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon. It was strange to see it after everything that had happened. Link had never had such a long day in his entire life. It didn’t help that he’d been up most of the night trying to navigate the Sky Keep and get the Triforce.

Zelda’s awakening. Ghirahim. Demise. It had all happened so fast. And then it was over, and Zelda was alive, and they were all so happy, and… and then…

Fi. Impa. Gone. They were gone.

And then the cloud barrier was gone, and Headmaster Gaepora had come to investigate with knights and classmates. Reunions, tears, joy, happiness…

It’s over.

Link trembled at the thought of it. He was so tired. How could so much happen in one day? He felt numb, completely numb. He couldn’t process it all. Demise’s last words, Fi’s last words, so many last words, too many last words.

Link was just… numb.

But then Zelda had flown up to the top of the goddess statue, and Link automatically followed. And up here, standing with her, he actually found that he could feel something.

Relief.

Pure relief and love filled him when he and Zelda stood together atop the statue of Hylia. Of all the insanity that happened today, the one thing that had gone well was Zelda. She was alive, she was safe, she was there.

But she’d also lost Impa. She’d also been through so much, she’d had her soul ripped out of her, she’d been sealed away for centuries. She gazed off into the world around them with a distant look in her eyes. Trying to bring her some peace, Link pulled out the goddess harp and strummed the ballad of the goddess with tender care.

Groose and his companions flew by them, waving, and Zelda waved back with a small smile. Link paused in his playing, watching them return to the Sky. The finality of the long quest he’d been on suddenly hit him all at once as he watched Groose leave.

Zelda’s gaze grew distant again, even more so than before, but it lasted only briefly as she turned excited eyes to him. “Look around us! As a child, I always dreamed of a world below. I wanted to see the Surface with my own eyes and feel the land’s warm breeze on my skin. I…”

Zelda shifted, facing him fully. “I think I want to live here. I always want to feel solid ground beneath my feet, see the clouds above my head, and watch over the Triforce.”

Zelda clasped her hands in front of her, swaying on her feet for a moment and looking away before they locked eyes again. “What about you, Link? What will you do now?”

Link stared at her for a moment, processing everything he’d heard, but all he could really tell was that wherever Zelda would go was where he would go.

He loved her, after all.

Smiling, he felt himself grow overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with relief, happiness, love, and some other heaviness that was pulling at his body, but for the moment…

All that mattered was her.

Zelda watched him, smiling back, but she was still waiting for an answer.

Well by the goddesses, he was going to give her one.

Leaning forward, Link pulled her into a kiss. Zelda stiffened at first, and then she giggled into him and wrapped her arms around him. Link felt energized at the response, hugging her more tightly, enjoying the taste and sensation from their lips meeting, feeling almost giddy that it was actually happening.

In the past this thought would have plagued him with anxiety. In the past he would have worried that it was going to ruin their friendship. But after everything they’d been through…

For a moment, just a moment, his body trembled. For just a moment, his right arm gripped the harp too tightly, involuntarily squeezing so hard his hand tingled. And then he was in Zelda’s embrace again, the two pulling away to smile at each other.

“Oh, Link,” Zelda laughed. Tears started to well in her eyes. “I’m so glad everything turned out the way it did.”

Link’s smile grew, but his joy started to him as he began to feel odd. His stomach was tightening, his body stiffening, and he didn’t know what was wrong. Was he sick?

A sense of foreboding filled Link. And then his right arm clenched and released and clenched and—

The goddess harp fell out of his hand. Link stumbled away from Zelda, his world spinning. He vaguely heard her say his name before he took another step back. He didn’t want to get sick on her, and he definitely felt off. His right foot shifted back, but the ground slanted and his ankle rolled and then suddenly the wind rushed by his ears, his heart felt like it stopped and then was pounding in his chest. His chest and right arm were killing him, his mind was whirling, this was too much—

“Link!!”

The world went black.

OOOOO

Zelda heard Crimson scream at the same time she did. She leapt off the goddess statue in a heartbeat, whistling for her loftwing just as Link’s own dove after him. She landed on Indigo, making her dive alongside Crimson, who was desperate to reach his partner. Zelda called out to Link just as Crimson’s strong talons wrapped around him. The two loftwings hovered in midair for a moment, and Zelda saw in the fading light that Link’s eyes were closed.

“Link! Link!” she yelled, desperate to get a reaction out of him, panic settling in her heart. What’s wrong with him?

Crimson didn’t wait any longer, shooting straight up for Skyloft. Zelda was right behind him. The familiar sight of the floating island made her heart ache with nostalgia and a sense of foreignness; it had been so long, and with her new memories—

She shook her head. Link. She had to focus on Link.

Crimson had already landed in front of the knight’s academy, and Zelda leapt off Indigo to join him. His squawking and screaming was loud enough to be heard all across Skyloft, and people quickly came rushing outside.

Her father approached her first. “Zelda! What happened?”

She pointed frantically to her best friend. “It’s Link, I don’t know what’s wrong!”

Running to him, she shook him fiercely. “Wake up, Link!”

Her friend remained silent, his eyes closed. No amount of shaking or yelling would arouse him. She didn’t know what was wrong, he’d been fine earlier!

Why was this happening? She couldn’t lose anyone else, and she would not lose Link, no please no, no, no…

“Get him inside,” her father instructed Pipit, who was nearest, and he immediately scooped Link into his arms with a grunt and carried him indoors. Zelda followed on his heels, frantic and breathless.

“Link! What happened? Zelda, what’s wrong with him?”

Zelda turned and saw Groose running to them, walking alongside Pipit and trying to wake Link with his booming voice.

“Not now, Groose,” Pipit replied sharply through gritted teeth, glaring at his classmate with a fierceness Zelda had only seen from him while sparring. “Leave him alone.”

Groose took a step back, caught off guard, and then Zelda spoke to him. “I don’t know what happened, he just passed out!”

“Is he hurt? I mean, he was pretty banged up when he got back, but he seemed okay…” Groose rambled, looking steadily more worried.

Pretty banged up? Looking back at Link, she started to see it. Cuts in the fabric, broken chainmail tearing through the tunic in certain patchy areas, dry dark stains that had been glossed over as old, but what was left of the green was steadily staining red. He’d looked scuffed up earlier but he’d been awake, he’d been smiling, and then everyone had surrounded her and… and…

She hadn’t noticed. Link had been injured and she hadn’t noticed. Everyone had been worrying about her instead.

“Get him to his room,” her father instructed Pipit. Then she felt him put a hand on her shoulder. “Zelda. You’ve been through enough today.”

Zelda whirled on him. “If you think for one second that I’m just going to go to bed and sleep while Link is hurt—”

“Zelda,” her father cut off, sterner than before. “There are more than enough people to help Link. You have been through so much today, for the past few months. Go to your room, try to get some rest.”

I’ve been resting for the last couple thousand years! She wanted to yell, but the energy was quickly slipping out of her. She hadn’t been resting, she’d been actively using her power to seal Demise away, and then she’d had her soul torn from her body to watch her best friend get beaten and electrocuted in battle before suddenly being thrown back into her body and—

Zelda leaned against the wall heavily, suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted. She watched Pipit hasten down the stairs, Groose at a safe distance so as not to draw his ire, and both Instructor Owlan and Horwell were leading the way.

Her father was right. She would just get in the way.

She nodded, blinking tears out of her eyes, and headed for her room. She doubted she would be able to sleep, though.

OOOOO

As an herbalist, Owlan had decided to learn the basics of caring for the injured and ill in the academy to ease the burden off the sole healer of Skyloft. He’d seen some interesting injuries and accidents over the years as an instructor. A phenomenon that he hadn’t experienced until this year, however, was having the same person gravely injured or ill multiple times in such a short period of time.

Link lay on his bed, breathing shakily. His eyes were still closed, but his brow was furrowed like he was either struggling to awaken or simply in too much pain. Pipit and Groose were there too, both standing uncertainly beside Owlan.

Placing multiple small pots with herbs on Link’s desk, Owlan looked to the boys. “Get his clothes off. We’ll need to see what we’re working with. Use a knife, try not to move him too much.”

Pipit nodded immediately, pulling a knife and getting to work cutting through Link’s tunic. Groose watched uncertainly and then asked, “Uh, what about his chain mail?”

Owlan sighed. “You might have to pull it off him, but be careful – it looks like it’s already damaged, we don’t want to injure him further. I’ll take a look before you get it off in case some of it is imbedded in him.”

Groose turned a shade paler. “I-imbedded…? But… but he was doing fine this morning…”

Owlan turned to face him fully. “You were there when it happened?”

Groose shifted, nervous. “Some of it. He… Zelda had just woken up, and then that freakshow came and blasted Link and Zelda apart. Link couldn’t get up for a while, and then he kind of rushed through the gate before I could figure out if he was hurt or not. I didn’t see any blood… and he fought off entire hordes of monsters after that, there were so many bodies… and by that point it was hard to tell what was his blood and what was theirs. And then the freakshow turned into a sword?? And he was like metal and… and then Zelda was screaming and that creep showed up, and I just got her out of there and the Old Lady told me to stay put.”

Owlan crinkled his brow, trying and failing to piece everything together. Freakshow? Turned into a sword? What?

The point was, Link had fought a lot.

“What made you think he wasn’t injured?” Owlan questioned further.

“Well the way he moved when it was all over, he seemed a bit stiff but he still got around fine, you know? And he kept going the whole day.”

Owlan sighed. Adrenaline, most likely. It allowed for one to push through pain and injury, it was very helpful in a life and death situation, but it also gave a false sense of security. Link probably had thought he was fine until he suddenly wasn’t. But it was evening now – surely the adrenaline hadn’t lasted all day? Did he get injured before they flew back? Was he just avoiding getting treatment?

The reasoning didn’t matter anymore, honestly. They were in this situation now and needed to address it.

“Instructor,” Pipit called.

Owlan walked over to the bed. Link was in his boxers and chainmail now, and Owlan could already see injuries on his legs. Scrapes, bruises, and blood oozing from a particularly large laceration, but nothing life threatening. The chainmail, however… it was clearly broken in some places, was stained red all over his chest, and it looked like some jagged edges had been shoved into the boy’s chest from a particularly hard blow.

This wasn’t ideal.

Owlan looked at Groose. “Tell Commander Eagus to bring pliers, and then go to Luv and get as much heart potion as you can carry.”

Groose nodded, leaving. Pipit’s gaze bounced between Owlan and Link, confusion and concern clear in his eyes.

“What happened to him?” Pipit asked quietly.

Owlan sighed, putting a hand on the student’s shoulder. “We’ll worry about that later.”

Something else caught Owlan’s eye. Link’s right hand and right forearm looked odd. There were angry red patterns, almost like feathers going up his skin. His fingers twitched on and off, and the more Owlan traced the wounds the more he realized they crawled all the way up his shoulder to the crook of his neck. When he touched Link’s forearm to better inspect the area, the boy hissed, his eyes shooting open.

“Link—” Pipit started to say, but his words were knocked out of him when Link grabbed for the knife he was holding and kicked him squarely in the gut.

Owlan took several steps back, alarmed. “Link, calm down! It’s okay, you’re s—”

Link headed for the door in a blind panic, knife still in hand. Pipit called after him and pursued. Owlan hastened into the hallway in time to see Link collide with Commander Eagus, who had clearly taken in the scene quickly and deduced what was happening. The large man easily overpowered the small knight-in-training, pulling the knife out of his hand and grabbing his right arm to stop him from fighting. Link cried out in pain, falling to his knees.

Owlan and Pipit rushed over to them. Eagus looked at Owlan worriedly. “What happened?”

“He’s hurt,” Owlan started to explain as Pipit knelt down beside Link.

“It’s okay,” Pipit tried to reassure the younger student, who was gasping for air and moaning in pain, twisting his arm to try to get out of Eagus’ grip. “Link, it’s okay, please stop trying to fight the commander. You’re back in the academy, you’re safe.”

“What’s going on?”

The commotion had attracted the entire academy, who were peering into the hallway with alarm. Eagus quickly picked Link up and carried him back to his room to avoid curious onlookers.

Link whimpered, wiggling in the man’s arms. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry, Link,” Eagus said softly as he put the boy back in bed. “You didn’t give me much choice there, young one. What were you doing, running around with a knife like that?”

The door burst open and Groose was suddenly filling the entranceway. “I heard yelling!”

Owlan was starting to get annoyed. There was too much chaos going on. “Do you have the potions?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Potions. Hand them over.”

Groose did as he was told before trying to get to Link, but Owlan put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for the help, Groose, but we have it under control. Why don’t you and Pipit step out now?”

He heard Pipit’s sharp inhale at also being essentially kicked out, but the boy was too well mannered to argue.

Groose, however, was not.

“No way! We’ve been through a lot together, I’m not leaving him alone!” Groose protested.

Owlan took a deep breath. He was surprised at how attached Groose suddenly seemed considering he knew the two boys did not get along before Zelda’s disappearance. It seemed a lot had happened on the Surface. Nevertheless, this was not helping. “Groose, he is in pain and confused. Too many people and too many noises will overwhelm him. The best way you can help right now is to minimize noise and interruptions. Stay outside and don’t let anyone who isn’t an instructor into this room. Understand?”

Groose debated it for a moment before nodding, his shoulders sagging a little. “Got it.”

The two students left, and Owlan turned his focus to Eagus, who was already working on breaking through the chains in the boy’s armor to remove what wasn’t embedded into his skin.

“Who did this?” Eagus asked, his voice a low growl.

“I don’t know,” Owlan answered honestly. “I haven’t gotten the whole story yet. But I get the feeling they’re not a threat anymore.”

OOOOO

A potion had helped settle Link, and it had caused his wounds to at least stop bleeding. The boy quieted into an uneasy half-conscious state for the wound care. Some injuries looked older than others and were moist with blood and pus. Owlan didn’t like the looks of it. Clearly the boy had been collecting injuries over time and had not been doing enough to care for them. Or they just had not been healing properly. He would figure it out when Link was more lucid. In the meantime, the potion provided could only do so much and Link wouldn’t take another sip in his state, so they had work to do.

What had been found was addressed. Herbs were soaked into the dressings to help rid the infection (or prevent it in the fresher wounds), and Link had been dressed in some loose clothes to keep him warm and comfortable. Eagus was fuming in the sparring hall, swinging his sword with such ferocity that Owlan didn’t dare get near him. Horwell was keeping the other students calm while Gaepora tended to his daughter. Henya hovered anxiously, busying herself in the kitchen and repeatedly glancing in the direction of Link’s room.

Owlan sighed, easing himself into his bed. It had been about three hours since they’d gotten Link settled, and Owlan was exhausted. He’d get a quick nap in for the remainder of the night and then check on Link first thing in the morning.

Or at least that was the plan until he heard Groose yelling downstairs.

“Link, no, it’s fine! Go back to bed!”

Owlan jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs. By the time he’d reached the hallway the door leading outside was open and Groose was rushing into the darkness.

Oh, no.

Students started rustling, poking their heads out of their dorms, and Owlan tore after the other two. He was surprised Gaepora hadn’t made his way down here by now, but he supposed the man had his hands full no doubt tackling Zelda to the ground before she tried to rush out to find Link.

It was chilly outside, and Owlan wished he’d thrown some shoes and a robe on before he’d rushed out. He heard Groose’s voice echoing in the distance. How far had they gone?

“Groose!” he called.

“Link, damn it, stop running you know you can’t fly right now where are you even going—”

Owlan felt his heart skip a beat. The boy’s loftwing wouldn’t be able to catch him at night. The knights who patrolled the island to catch those who might fall no doubt would hear the commotion and get to Link, but a loftwing’s grip could seriously hurt his wounds. Owlan ran down the stairs, heading towards the Light Tower where he heard the voice echoing. A keese flew his way, hissing, and he picked up his pace to avoid it.

A strangled yell caught his attention, and as the plaza came into view he saw Groose holding Link by wrapping his arms around his waist and hoisting him up, their height difference ensuring that Link was off the ground. The smaller boy’s legs kicked at nothing in the air.

Link snarled, elbowing Groose in the chest, but the larger teenager didn’t seem that phased by it… at least until Link reached over his head and pulled hard enough on Groose’s pompadour to rip out a near fistful of hair.

Yelping, Groose dropped Link, who tore for diving platform.

“Link!”

The boy froze. Owlan turned and saw Zelda barreling down the stairs, cutting down the keese with a training sword as she went. Her eyes were frantic, and she completely disregarded Owlan as she ran by him and Groose.

“Z-Zel…” Link said breathlessly, stumbling towards her as she nearly slammed into him, pulling him away from the platform. “S-safe…”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said hastily, tears leaking out of her eyes as she held her friend. “Don’t worry, everything’s fine.”

Owlan leaned against the stone wall heavily, drained. He heard panting and rustling beside him and saw Gaepora, who also looked haggard.

“I’ll trade charges with you,” Owlan said only half kiddingly. “Might be easier.”

Gaepora sighed as Eagus ran up to meet them. “I think a sedative might be in order, Owlan. For both of them.”

Owlan agreed, going back to his room and grabbing a few ingredients to make such a concoction. He sweetened the drinks with honey and then met the group in Link’s room. The boy had yet to take his eyes off Zelda, his left hand clinging to her desperately as his right spasmed. Groose was in the corner, nursing his damaged hair and looking frightened.

Owlan took pity on the student and walked to him first. “Are you alright?”

“He’s never been like this before,” Groose mumbled. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“He’s just confused,” Owlan assured him. “He needs to heal. It might be a process to get him there, but once he starts to rest properly, he’ll be fine.”

Letting the words sink in, Owlan walked to Link’s bedside, where Gaepora and Eagus were also waiting. He gave one cup of tea to Gaepora, who turned his attention to his daughter.

“This has a sedative in it,” Owlan whispered to Eagus. “We need to make sure Link drinks it all.”

“Father, I can’t just leave him!”

“Zelda, sweetheart, he’s in good hands. They’re going to give him something to help him relax. Now let’s go back to your room. This tea will help settle your nerves as well.”

Zelda reluctantly looked back at Link, who was still clinging to her. Leaning over, she kissed him on the forehead, whispered something to him, and slowly pried his fingers off her nightgown. Link watched her silently, perhaps not quite following, but he at least didn’t protest. Zelda let her father guide her out of the room, tears evident on her cheeks.

Owlan sighed, relieved. And then the relief quickly faded as Link started to twitch before his entire upper body tried to curl in on itself. He gasped, doing the motion several times, and Owlan suddenly recognized it. Dry heaving.

“We need to—”

Link vomited, sickly bile and the potion he’d consumed earlier spilling out of his mouth, and he gurgled and choked on it from where he lay flat on his back. Owlan and Eagus immediately sprang into action, sitting him up and letting his head go to the side. He wasn’t sick for much longer, thankfully, and Owlan had to look away to compose himself, feeling his own stomach lurch.

“Hylia above,” Eagus muttered. “What a mess.”

Owlan grunted, unable to speak just yet.

“Groose, get a bath drawn,” Eagus ordered. Groose left immediately.

Owlan finally got his composure back and stepped away to grab a change of clothes for Link. He braved to look down at his tunic and was relieved to see that he hadn’t gotten any vomit on himself. Eagus didn’t seem phased, gently pulling the boy into his arms and speaking softly to reassure him. Link sniffled, his face stained with tears, bile, phlegm, and sweat, but he didn’t fight.

The bath was drawn, warm, and ready by the time they got there, and Owlan stopped briefly to get more bandages and herbs since they would have to re-do their work once they were finished cleaning him. When he reentered the room he heard Link sniffling and hiccupping some more. He rounded the corner to see the boy crying, feebly trying to push Eagus away. The sight tore at his heart.

“Shh, Link, it’s okay,” Eagus said softly. “Listen to me. It’s Commander Eagus. You’re in the academy. Instructor Owlan is here too. You’re safe. Whoever did this to you, they can’t hurt you here. I won’t let them. Zelda is fine too, she’s in her room resting. I know you’re hurting, we’re going to give you another potion.”

Owlan took a steadying breath and then approached to help. With some coaxing, they managed to get him to drink half a heart potion. That seemed to help immensely, and he sank into the water, leaning against Eagus, letting them clean him up. About halfway through the bath he started to flinch away, and so they gave him the remainder of the potion, allowing them to finish their job in peace. Once cleaned, dried, and settled back in bed with new bandages and clothes, Owlan helped Link drink the tea he’d made and stayed by his bedside until he was fast asleep.

OOOOO

The past few days had been a blur to Zelda. She’d tried to listen to her father and rest and recover her own strength and sanity, she really did. But Link was getting worse. The first night had been horrific enough, but the day after she’d been with him and every time he’d wake up (which was rare) he was delirious and sometimes didn’t even recognize her. He rarely let her tend to him, too lost in his own illness induced worries.

Instructor Owlan changed his dressings every day. He should have been getting better, but she heard the instructors murmuring to each other, she heard Owlan tell her father that Link’s infections from older wounds might have already been too bad. Commander Eagus had sent for the healer by the second day, and the prognosis had been bleak.

“I’m afraid the infection might have gotten to his blood,” the healer had said. “I’ll talk to Luv, have her make some medication that can help. Beyond that, it’s up to Link.”

That had been two days ago. And since then Link had only gotten weaker. He didn’t even wake up anymore to drink the medicine. His fever spiked three days ago and hadn’t left. His breathing was slow and shallow. Her father had told her and everyone else to prepare for the worst.

So here she was, sitting at his bedside, crying uncontrollably and wanting to curse the goddesses. So now that Link completed his destiny that’s it? You just toss him to the side like garbage?

She wanted to scream. Why was this happening?! She’d already lost Impa, she’d already lost whatever innocence she’d had left, she wouldn’t survive if she lost Link too!

The more she thought about it, the worse it got. Especially when she remembered that all the blame she was heaping on the goddesses was meaningless because it was entirely her fault.

Hylia—Zelda herself had planned for this, she’d been the one to involve Link.

She wished so desperately that she was the one injured and in pain and not him. The sight of him clinging to her as he had four nights ago still haunted her.

“Link,” she whispered brokenly, leaning over him, shuddering at how hot his skin was. “Please, wake up.”

Her entire body was trembling, and the sobs tore through her. Link didn’t respond.

Tap-tap-tap!

Zelda gasped, her head shooting up from where she’d been cradling it on Link’s chest. She turned to her right to stare at the boarded opening to the outdoors and saw the window shaking as something bumped against it. Then she heard a squawk.

Standing on the desk, Zelda propped the window open and was nearly barreled over by a beak. “Crimson!”

The loftwing chirped frantically, trying to get a look at Link. Zelda felt her heart sink even more, if that was possible. “He… he can’t come outside, Crimson, I’m sorry.”

Crimson chirped again, and she could hear him flapping his wings. She felt awful watching him struggle to get to his partner like this.

Loftwings weren’t usually allowed indoors anywhere, but Zelda figured she could make an exception this one time. Link was… Link was dying. Crimson needed to be with him too.

“Go to the door,” she said, running to the entrance and opening it. She peered around to see Crimson hovering around Link’s bedroom window, and she called to get his attention. The loftwing noticed her waving and scurried over, again almost knocking her over as he shoved his way inside.

Zelda looked around nervously to make sure nobody had noticed, but it was dinnertime and everyone was preoccupied. Of course, that meant she had to sneak a giant crimson loftwing right by the dining area while everyone was in it.

Or that was her intent, except Crimson had already made a beeline for Link’s room and was pecking at the doorknob. Zelda stiffened, looking briefly into the dining area, and saw that nobody had noticed. Sighing in relief, she hastened back to Link’s room and opened the door, locking it behind her and Crimson once they were both inside. Her father would be by soon to guide her back to the others so she could eat and then she’d be sequestered in her room or with her father for the night depending on whether she wanted to spend time with him or not.

Rubbing a hand over her tired eyes, she said, “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this, but…”

Pulling her hand from her face, she gasped. “Crimson! No, don’t do that!”

Link’s loftwing had perched himself perfectly on the bed, nestled between Link and the wall, half sitting on Link himself. His feathers were fluffed like he was roosting a hatchling in a nest.

Zelda tried to no avail to convince him to move, and then she got an idea and rushed to another dorm to grab one of the giant pillows some of her classmates used to relax on the floor. Dragging it back into Link’s room, she motioned to it in front of the loftwing on the bed. He watched her curiously before fluffing up further and rubbing his beak on Link’s forehead.

“Crimson for heaven’s sake, get off him!” Zelda hissed, reaching over and pushing the heavy bird feebly.

Crimson didn’t budge.

Grumbling, Zelda collapsed in her chair. Now what?

“Zelda? Why is the door locked?”

Great.

Sighing, Zelda rose and unlocked it, slowly opening the door. Despite the gravity of the situation, she still felt guilty and nervous at breaking the rules and having to show her father what was happening.

“What in the world—why is his loftwing in here?” her father asked, also trying to wave off the gigantic bird. “Go on now, you’re going to hurt him!”

“Father,” Zelda pleaded. “I… he wanted to be with Link. I know he can’t stay on the bed, but can he please just stay with him? He…”

He doesn’t have much time left. The words echoed in her mind. She’d heard Budgick, the healer, say them this morning.

Her father sighed. “Very well. Let’s get you to dinner, and then we’ll find a way to get him to the floor, at least.”

Zelda nodded thankfully, tears in her eyes once more. The two left, though Zelda didn’t bother closing the door, and she let herself be directed towards the dining hall. She didn’t really have an appetite, and she wanted to spend every moment possible with Link, holding his hand and telling him she was fine and that he wasn’t alone.

She hated how final this felt. She hated all of this.

Dinner was uneventful, and she ate maybe two bites before saying she was finished. Her father was about to protest when Commander Eagus rushed into the dining hall.

“Link’s gone!” he yelled.

Zelda felt her blood run cold. He was… he was gone? He’d…

He was dead. He’d died alone. He was dead, and she hadn’t been there for him.

Zelda let out a wail of horror and desperation, shooting to her feet and running for his room. When she reached the doorway, barely able to see through her tears, she—

She saw an empty bed.

Wait, what?

“He’s missing,” Eagus was explaining to her father as they caught up to her. “I just went in there and the room was empty. Groose, Fledge, Pipit, and Karane are looking for him now.”

He was… he was missing? Like he’d run off again?

He’d run. That was… he hadn’t moved a muscle since yesterday, hadn’t been out of bed since the first night… this had to mean he was improving, right?

They spent the entire night searching to no avail. Link had vanished entirely, and there was no sign of his loftwing. Zelda spent the remainder of her waking moments hunting for him in the skies and praying for him when she couldn’t.

Please come back safely, Link. Please.

And three days later, he did just that. Weak, confused, dressed differently, but alive, sitting atop his loftwing.

Zelda smiled as she snuck into Link’s room the next morning. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was even, steady. His skin was its usual mild tan and was no longer covered in a cold sweat. She walked over to him and sat on the bed, stroking his hair.

Leaning over, she kissed him gently on the lips. She would watch over him and protect him, just as he’d done for her during her slumber. He stirred under her, and she felt his lips move to kiss her in return. Slowly, she pulled away to see deep blue eyes watching her.

Stroking his cheek, she whispered, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

#owlan needs a pay raise #eagus' dad instincts are going haywire #zelda's about ready to have a mental breakdown girl needs a vacation #poor groose is trying his best #I have a headcanon that when Link named his bird Crimson Groose teased him about it #so Zelda named hers Indigo just to spite him #skyward sword #ss link #skyward sword link #ss zelda #skyward sword zelda #groose #crimson loftwing #legend of zelda #sickfic #crimson is a birb on a mission #he will kidnap link if he has to #writing

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