zelda au but from nicky's pov this time! and also angst 100 years after the previous ficlets
It’s obvious, when Nicolò arrives, that he’s found what he’s been looking for. The place would be unassuming, if not for the sense of dread that surrounds it even from a distance, the way that all of Nicolò’s instincts tell him to turn back. His horse stops abruptly and won’t go any further, despite all of Nicolò’s attempts to soothe him. He dismounts, ties the horse’s reins to a nearby tree, and continues on foot.
It’s a perfect circle of nothing. Around it, the field is thriving, birds soaring in the air above as they call to each other, the wind gently ruffling the grass. But inside the circle, there is nothing growing, nothing alive. When Nicolò steps inside it, it is immediately perfectly silent. The ground is dry as if it hasn’t rained in years, a web of gold burned into the ground, its threads spreading from a point at the circle’s centre to its edges.
He’s been warned against this by so many: by the ghost of the old king; by the Queen of Hyrule; by the Sheikah elders; by Yusuf himself in his last dream. But he has to know what happened, and so here he is.
He kneels in the very centre of the circle at the point where the golden cracks meet, a scar burned into the land one hundred years ago.
You found it, then, Yusuf says in his head, sounding resigned. Nicolò looks around instinctively, even though by now he knows that Yusuf won’t be there. It doesn’t stop him from looking.
“I have to know,” Nicolò says. “Show me. Please.”
Yusuf doesn't respond for a moment, then says, If you insist.
Nicolò closes his eyes.
--------------------
The sky is a deep, unnatural red, black clouds littered across it. The smell of smoke hangs heavy in the air. Nicolò’s whole body aches, his tunic stained with dirt and old blood from various wounds that he’s assured Yusuf are no more than scratches but that he knows are much worse. Despite the pain, he keeps on, sword in hand. He knows he won’t be able to carry on much longer, but they’re so close.
Yusuf is close behind him, still in his ceremonial tunic with Nicolò’s cloak draped over his shoulders, clutching the dagger Quynh had given him before they separated. They hadn’t had time to grab anything else.
“Not much further,” Nicolò says as reassuringly as he can, but he knows it’s not convincing. Still, Yusuf nods, and they press on.
They’re almost to the fort when Nicolò hears the now familiar whirring of one of the ancient robots Yusuf had been studying, now glowing bright red with the beast’s corruption, and freezes. The Guardian turns its head, searching. Nicolò holds his breath. They’re too exposed like this, but he doesn’t dare move.
Two more join the first, and Nicolò can’t stand against three of them, not like this. His best hope is to distract them for long enough that Yusuf can get to safety, even though he knows Yusuf won’t agree to leave him behind.
“Yusuf-” Nicolò begins, just as the first Guardian turns its head again and looks directly at them. Its eye flashes red and begins to glow.
It’s a monumental effort to lift his shield, as tired as he is, but he knows they won’t outrun it, so it’s his only option. “Yusuf,” he says, even as he draws his sword. “Go now. Run to the fort. I will buy you time.”
“No,” Yusuf says. “No, I can’t leave you here.”
“We don’t have time.” The other two Guardians have seen them now, all three of them glowing brighter. The first is taking aim, almost charged enough to shoot. “Yusuf, go.”
The Guardian draws back its head, ready to shoot- and Yusuf pushes in front of him, and Nicolò reaches out to stop him-
There’s a burst of blinding golden light, and then nothing. The ground around them is seared in a perfect circle, golden cracks burned into the ground, spreading from the spot where Yusuf stands, the back of his left hand glowing the same way Nicolò’s had on the night he’d found the sword. The Guardians, all three of them, collapse to the ground, whatever had been controlling them gone.
Nicolò, unable to hold himself up any longer, stumbles. Yusuf turns quickly enough to catch him before he falls, lowering him gently to the ground so his head rests in Yusuf’s lap.
“You did it,” Nicolò whispers, reaching up to take Yusuf’s left hand in his right.
“I did,” Yusuf says, still looking at the back of his hand - at the scar that matches Nicolò’s - as if he can’t quite believe it after so long. But then he catches sight of the blood on Nicolò’s tunic. “Nico, you’re bleeding. We’ve got to get you to a healer.”
Nicolò shakes his head. He’s not going to make it that far, and he knows it. “You have to go. There will be more, now that they know where you are. That wasn’t exactly subtle of you.” That gets Yusuf to laugh, even through tears.
“I can’t leave you,” Yusuf says. “I can’t do this without you, Nico.”
“You can,” Nicolò whispers. “You have everything you need, now.” He reaches up, his hand trembling as his fingers brush Yusuf’s jaw. “Get to safety. Find the others. Take the sword, too.”
“I can’t,” Yusuf repeats. “It’s not far, Nicolò. Please. I need you with me.”
“You’ll be okay,” Nicolò says softly, even as his eyelids grow heavy. He doesn’t have long now. “I promise, you’ll be okay. I love you.” He's never said it out loud before, even if he's certain Yusuf knows, but- if this is where he dies, then he wants to tell him at least once.
“Stay with me,” Yusuf pleads. Nicolò lets his hand fall, offers Yusuf a small smile, and slips away.
--------------------
“Nicolò,” Yusuf says. “Nicolò, look at me, please. Please, Nico.”
It’s no use, Nicolò knows. He’s already gone.
It’s strange looking down at himself like this. This isn’t his memory anymore - now Yusuf is showing him what happened after.
“Nico,” Yusuf whispers, and Nicolò wishes he could reassure him, but he can’t.
“Your Highness?” someone calls from across the field - Celeste, sword in hand, running towards him. “What happened?”
In answer, Yusuf lifts the back of his hand to show her the scar. Celeste’s eyes widen.
“There were three Guardians,” he says. “I killed them, but he was wounded, and-”
Celeste kneels on Nicolò’s other side. She checks his pulse. “There may still be a way to save him, Your Highness.”
Yusuf looks up sharply. “What do you mean?” he asks, breathless.
“The Shrine of Resurrection is functional enough to heal him, if we act quickly. It may take a very long time, and there is a chance he will not remember anything, but it’s a chance.”
“If it’s a chance, we’ll take it,” Yusuf says immediately. “Take him there. Do whatever you need to to help him.”
Celeste nods. “What about you?”
“I’m going to the castle,” Yusuf says.
--------------------
Nicolò’s eyes snap open. It takes him a moment to calm his racing heart - he’s not there, not in danger, and neither is Yusuf.
Yusuf doesn’t say anything at first, but Nicolò can feel his presence. I never wanted you to see that, he says finally.
“Why?” Nicolò asks.
You died because of me, and I couldn’t save you. If I had been able to act earlier, it wouldn’t have happened. I failed you.
“You don’t know that. What happened happened, and it cannot be changed now. And you didn’t fail, Yusuf. You’ve kept the kingdom safe for one hundred years. I wouldn’t call that failure.”
I’m so tired, Nico, Yusuf says. It’s been so long. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.
“I know,” Nicolò says. He traces over the wrapping on the hilt of his sword, then stands. “I’m coming.”
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