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malulurivers · 10 months

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To the Wind | Link x Reader

Word count: 3.1k Summary: you've long travelled with Link. now having a small rest between travelling and aiding Hyrule, you find yourself facing a vast expanse—of questions, and the possible future. the hero speaks so little, so many things go unsaid. but is it right that they do? Warnings: unnecessarily flowery description? none

AN: this is an old piece i had lying around that i always meant to fix up a lil bit and i finally have! it's not really what i'd write for here (i did it more as a writing exercise years ago, so it's a bit... dense lmao) but i still think it's quite cute! {Gender Neutral reader} Link does talk, but only rarely (if i was to write this now, i would write him signing as i much prefer that interpretation!)

☾ ₊ ˚ ✩ ˚ ｡ ☽

the rain had long passed but the two of you remained huddled beneath the stone canopy of an overhang you’d found. the evening was cool, the clouds slowly clearing to reveal a dusk sky adorned with stars. the moon was peeking above the lanterns of a stable below in the valley, and though it promised warmth, you knew you were heading in the opposite direction.

relishing in the peace and quiet, you leant back on your cloak, which was sprawled upon the ground to offer a protective layer against the cold stone and the odd crumpled leaf.

the small orchard across the path bristled in hushed tones, melding with the crackle of the campfire by your feet. their crimson leaves shivered in the night, knowing that there was no relief for them. as a shimmering trail cut through their branches high in the darkness beyond, you couldn’t help but grin.

“hey, did you see that?” you asked quietly, not looking over to him. you’d been travelling for so long together alone, that there was never any other person you could be talking to. despite the odd occurrences that led up to your strange companionship—things you perhaps regret but would not change for the world—the two of you made a seamless team, and an inseparable one at that.

you’d forgotten to count how many days your time together was supposedly overdue moons ago; caught up in the excitement and awe of visiting new places and meeting new people. as well as facing monsters so gruesome your nightmares could never have festered them. even now, you didn’t even consider beginning to trace it all back, despite the lull in the pace of your travels.

after he remained still in the corner of your eye, you glanced over as you spoke louder this time. “there was a shooting star! not too far from here i bet…”

your words gradually became quieter again. of course he had heard you.

Link was without a doubt shorter than you, by quite a bit too: you could lean on his head with a slight stretch and you knew that from playful experience. but he wasn’t small—he never appeared to be.

whether it be how he charged into battle, a force to be reckoned with. how he glowed when he cooked, and practically cackled when he soared into the air on a fiery updraft of his own making. or how he rose to any challenge put before him, clambered up cliffs for absolutely no reason other than because he could, or how his eyes would glint so mischievously to the point that you wouldn’t dare turn your back to him, lest he spring chuchu jelly on you again. Link was never small.

and yet here he was, eyes glazed over as he stared into the glowing embers, gold dancing across his face and casting his hunched form partially into pure shadow. his rough hands were pressed into the pebbles and dirt by the wooden pyre and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was a more accurate descriptor than you first thought.

despite how long you had spent in his company, you hadn’t heard his voice anywhere near as much as people thought you had. they would ask you in fake-sweet tones what he sounded like, how much he actually spoke, why he withheld his voice from them, as if there was something malicious in his silence. you never spared them your time and at most offered them an underhanded comment before following after him.

and so it remained that Link rarely spoke, and you did much of the talking for him. you didn’t expect him to speak, and never wished him to, and he seemed relieved by this. but as you felt an unfamiliar pang in your chest, you began to wonder if there could be an exception.

there was a lot of weight on his shoulders—not only the fate of the kingdom and its future, but the past as well. there were an awful lot of words on those lips that were never spoken. the thought of the sheer weight of them worried you, and carrying them around without respite even more so. but you reminded yourself that the two of you were inevitably different. perhaps that’s why you worked so well together. although, it remained that talking problems out wouldn’t help him in the same way as it helped you.

frowning for a moment, you had an idea and shuffled across to sit on the edge of his cloak. he didn’t register your movement, so you carefully placed your hand on his shoulder.

Link snapped out of his stare, eyes meeting yours before the air that had been caught up in his chest slowly left him. he was trying to be subtle—you knew that before he offered that small smile he always used to cover stuff up—but you didn’t mention it.

“back in Hateno, when i was younger… my mother used to help me cope with my worries and fears, even though she didn’t know what to do,” you began, avoiding his gaze to look at his dirty cheek. there you met the familiar sight of the scar levied across his jaw.

you always found yourself gravitating to the lines of his past, now light and melded with his skin near perfectly; so many were invisible until his cheeks reddened in the cold or he stayed out in the sun for too long. you could never work out what drew you to them. whether it was astonishment, in how they were etches of a century ago, trapped in the skin of a living being. or if it was curiosity, to know every detail he was willing to spare, even if they were morbid.

whatever the reason, you ignored it and pushed yourself to look him in the eye once more.

“what she did wasn’t… well, I haven’t done it in a long while, but… then again I haven’t needed it.” you smiled at him warmly, knowing full well he was the reason why. “and now that I think about it, it might help you.”

his gaze softened. he nodded silently, and watched intently while he waited for you to show him what you meant.

shifting behind him, you subtly admired his form. he was sat up straighter now, no longer as still as a corpse, instead poking the fire with a half-charred stick. you readjusted your weight on your knees as you spotted a hole beginning to form by the collar of his tunic. you poked it absentmindedly, signalling to him its presence, before attempting to draw your fingers up to his hair.

at that moment, apprehension rushed through to your stomach and brought your hands to a halt.

you questioned yourself then, as you studied your weak hands. why would you stop? it wasn’t like you were strangers, far from it. you’d helped adjust his straps and bags numerous times before to save time in the desert. he’d untangled you from your own clothing mishaps when the storm whipped your cloak round your legs, and chased after your hat flung far off in the distance. you’d washed his clothes and he’d washed yours, and upon so many mornings had you awoken to yourself swaddled into his side after the night grew too cold and the fire had cooled.

and yet, nerves began to ripple through your stomach, like the pulses of butterfly wings, at the idea of touching his hair. of running your fingers through it, seeing it loose. somehow, this was different, and you couldn’t put your finger on as to why.

Link turned to look at you, his head tilting. knowing well what that gesture meant, you chuckled sheepishly.

“oh, yeah, i’m fine, sorry. nostalgia, that’s all.”

he looked away from you again, nodding knowingly whilst he became focused on his hands. he began rubbing the dirt off his fingers, and with his distracted attention you took the opportunity to recompose yourself. with a brief sigh, you pushed through the apprehension while it was off-guard, and gently pulled the cerulean ribbon out from his hair. the dirty blond tresses hardly caught the wind once they were freed, retaining their tied back shape. too long of a time spent in bonds, you reasoned, and the knots between your fingers seconded that as you gently combed through his hair. you tried to catch a glimpse of his reaction by placing the tie on his knee, though to little success. he was looking beyond into the valley so you would have no trouble, but it meant that whatever he was thinking was an utter mystery to you. delicately threading your fingertips past his ears, you finally spoke up.

“my mother, when i was worried, used to sit me on her lap and get me to think about everything i was upset about. and while i did, she would weave a plait in my hair.” you took a lock of his and split it into three. “it would only ever be small, and we would just sit in silence as she wove.” you followed your own words, beginning to entwine the strands sitting in your palms, paying extra care to not accidentally tug. “when she reached the end, however, she never tied it, and just left it open. and then she would say, it’s all to the wind now.

"the first time she did it, she didn’t explain what she meant, and i didn’t work it out until later that day, when i pushed my hair out of my face one windy afternoon and found it missing,” you chuckled. “the wind had pulled the plait apart naturally without me noticing, just as it was supposed to do. it was supposed to take your fears away with it, though i never felt that it did—i found ranting to Ivee much more helpful personally, which is… hardly surprising.” you waited for him to laugh at that, but your quip was met with silence. you leant round with a faltering grin to see if he was just smiling too, but you found you couldn’t lean quite far enough to see properly with his hair in your hands. all you could note was that his eyes were closed.

diffused, you continued nonetheless, “she often said things like that. Like, the wind would fix it all, and you just had to wait as the… that patience was the purest trial of them all and… other things that didn’t make a lot of sense. i’ll admit, it never got rid of my worries, but i did always find it soothing.” you pulled a final weave into the plait, your laugh fading into a small smile. “so, maybe it’ll help you.”

tracing your fingertips carefully over the rises and falls of the new braid, you waited for him to respond.

in the silence your mind wandered, and with every hush of the breeze your thoughts grew louder. Link remained still, offering neither a shake of his head or hum of disapproval. no longer preoccupied, you peered round to see what was wrong, only to find his eyes still closed. his hands were still in his lap, the twig discarded by his knee, while his breathing was steady.

“Link?” you whispered, amused by how he’d seemingly managed to doze off sitting upright—it would be a first! Though before you could place your hand on his shoulder his eyes flickered open. You barely got the chance to be startled because of the way he was looking at you. And because of how close you were to him.

“sorry,” you stuttered, suddenly unable to look away from the bright dawn sky of his eyes. you tried to ignore the comments suddenly fluttering about in your head, and the one word they orbited. “i thought you’d fallen asleep, i didn’t mean…”

he was drowsy, but he smiled nonetheless. it’s ok, you recognised.

it most certainly isn’t, you thought, the voice in your head flustered. you’d never felt this hazy before, this giddiness in your chest. not when just looking upon someone's face.

you were about to make an excuse so you could move back to your side of the campsite and catch your breath when he looked back to the valley, frown sweeping across the horizon’s mountains to where that star had fallen. and to your surprise, he spoke. “did you make a wish?”

you thought about it for a few seconds, unable to remember if you had or hadn’t. it had only been a few minutes since you’d seen it arc across the sky, yet it felt like hours had passed since then. “no… no, i didn’t. i guess… i’m not sure what to wish for. there’s so much in the world that it’s hard to choose. greater good, personal regrets, revenge, mercy…” you paused for a second once he had nodded in understanding. “did you?”

“no,” he answered. his lips remained parted as if he wanted to continue, but after a few moments they returned to a sad smile, his eyes dropping back down to the ground.

the crackling of the fire became the only sound to be heard once again as you watched him from the corner of your eye. he picked up the stick and poked at the silvering wood. still knelt behind him, you were thankful he couldn’t see your face. you struggled to hide your emotions, at least with him, and you were aware that your expression was likely one of blatant concern. yet there was little that could be done. there was a reason why he wasn’t talking about it, and it wasn’t tough to work it out.

in that moment, you felt a wave of powerlessness wash over you. your heart was no longer racing, and instead ached. your limbs felt like they were laden with iron.

the weight that he bore was not something that you could bear with him. there were no words you could offer that would make the absence formed of what little he could remember cut any less deep. your arrow could not pierce the Calamity’s brow, and you could not wield the blade that could. after all that you had accomplished together, it was nothing in comparison to what he faced.

you swallowed thickly, finally pulling your hand away. slipping off your knees, you wrapped your arms around his waist and let your head rest against his shoulder.

“i’m sorry, Link,” you murmured, voice weak.

you didn’t dare look up when you felt him turn to you. whether it was a quizzical stare or a blush you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. and you were right to think so, because as soon as he leant his head against yours you felt your heart pick up tenfold. you didn’t want to think how he must feel it racing against his back.

“you shouldn’t be sorry,” he explained quietly, his thumb coming to trace across your wrist, “you’re here. just like the others.”

the wind picked up and you felt the light dim across your closed eyes as it played with the fire. you tried to commit his voice to memory, gather words and phrases to try and describe what it sounded like, to yourself. just in case the wilds finally did creep back to collect what they once gained and now had lost. there was always that innate fear that gnawed at the very base of your stomach, those ‘what if's' of catastrophe. “i’ll always be here,” you insisted, clutching onto him just that little bit tighter, “no matter how far we go.”

the cool of the night began to seep further into your campsite, the fire beginning to dwindle at the will of the weather, and Link made no effort to rekindle it.

you could see why you had shifted towards him in your sleep these recent nights; he was so warm to the touch, his strength a blanket of security as he cradled you. you did so again now, still holding him as if he was your only shelter. in some ways he was. you almost had the thought to wonder why you hadn’t done this sooner, but you knew exactly why.

as tiredness began to seep into your eyes, Link shifted. he tapped your hand to gain your attention, and you quickly unwrapped your arms. however, before you could apologise and make your way back to your cloak, he held onto your fingers.

“stay.”

his expression was forlorn, but hopeful. there was a tension in his jaw as he waited for you to say something. his other hand gripped at his knee.

you didn’t want to leave him hanging but there was a problem with your breath being hitched in your throat. his fingertips were rough against yours, yet still so gentle. they sought your palm, following the lines that were etched into your skin. the lines of fate, as fortune tellers called them. and yours were alight with warmth, now.

you slowly exhaled as he’d done earlier, trying to be subtle. if he noticed he didn’t show it, simply offering a flicker of a smile. it reminded you of the ones he gave you when he asked for a favour, to be the one to grab the apples off the tree or track down the cuccos yet again. however, this time his favour was quiet, so much so that he didn’t want to ask for it. his grip on your hand could barely be called that, his fingers were so flighty and ready to pull away at any moment.

but he had asked, despite everything.

silently, you let him guide you back down to earth, into his lap. and there, you curled up in his arms. he leant against your bags as a makeshift pillow, and then pressed you gently into his chest, as close as he could get you. the chill of the wind could no longer reach you, as you were under his protection now. but he was also under yours.

finally, he relaxed, resting his chin on your head. his heartbeat thrummed by your ear, gradually slowing, beat by beat, until it was a soothing rhythm; one of near sleep. the crickets’ chorus began to outsing the crackle of the flames, with darkness having now fully fallen across Hyrule, you spoke up for the final time that night. “goodnight, Link. sleep well." your voice was barely above a whisper, and spoken into his tunic so that you weren’t sure he would hear you. but the hand nestled in your own squeezed your fingers.

a gust of wind blew the remaining flames out, and as shadow engulfed the camp your eyes fell shut, the heartbeat of the hero soothing you to sleep. and with the fire lost, the brightest light upon Hyrule became a fallen star, glowing upon the mountainside above.

☾ ₊ ˚ ✩ ˚ ｡ ☽

masterlist | buy me a hot chocolate <3

#link x reader #link fluff #link angst #x reader #tloz #loz #botw #botw x reader #link oneshot #link x reader fluff #botw oneshot #tloz oneshot #loz oneshot #link botw #link x reader angst #i promise ill be writing some new stuff soon with a more succinct and accessible writing style #im working on improving my writing and focusing on only the stuff that matters!#this really could become an interesting benchmark tbh #my writing

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