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skyyknights · 9 months

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you feel like home

Ao3

Link hadn’t thought it possible that this day could get any worse.

But, as usual, he was proven wrong.

He had already spent the entirety of the day clearing out a fresh nest of monsters from Skyview Temple, which had earned him nothing better than a broken rib and a collection of fresh gashes on his face and torso. He was sore and hot and hungry and tired– no, not tired, exhausted – and all he wanted was to get back to the Sealed Temple, inhale the soup Zelda had planned to make for tonight, and crawl into his bedroll.

The monsters might not have been so bad to deal with, but it had only been a week since Fi went to sleep, and the new sword the Academy had gifted him was nothing like hers. It was heavy and clumsy and rough in his hands, and no matter how much he practiced with it, it just wasn’t the same, meaning his daily swordsman tasks were harder and took longer. Meaning he sometimes fumbled with his new blade, an often dangerous mistake that only served to obtain him new cuts and bruises.

He missed Fi’s sword and her advice and her kindness. He missed the sense of humor she had developed, and the gracefulness with which she danced, like she was made of air. He missed having someone to talk to about his feelings for Zelda. He missed her chiming voice and the warmth she had finally begun to display towards the end of his journey.

He missed her.

But, as he always reminded himself, moping about it wouldn’t bring her back. So he forced his thoughts to turn elsewhere, like how good Zelda’s soup would taste. How nice her hands, cool and faintly calloused from her own swordsmanship abilities, would feel as they bandaged his wounds. How wonderful his bedroll would be as he drifted off into sleep.

His broken rib was beginning to feel like a knife digging into his body, and with every step he took blood oozed from the gashes on his torso, but he was almost to the Sealed Temple where he could rest . So with the last of his energy Link climbed up a set of vines, hauled himself onto the ledge at the top, and froze, his heart sinking into his boots.

What looked to be half of Skyloft was gathered in the grassy area just outside the side door of the Sealed Temple.

Link could feel exhaustion settling further into his bones as he scanned the dozens of cheerful faces and began desperately searching for an excuse not to join them, but “I’m tired” was the best he could come up with. He had to admit, the tables sagging with food at one edge of the space looked appealing, but even more appealing was the thought of drifting into unconsciousness, away from the pain. He’d have to ask Zelda to bring him a small bowl of soup and then he’d go to bed.

First he would have to excuse himself to the veritable horde of Skyloftians in front of him. Link ducked into a shadow for a moment, doing his best to smooth his sweat-soaked hair and make his tunic look somewhat presentable, the latter being a failed endeavor due to the fresh bloodstains covering it. After a moment he gave up on his appearance, clenched his fists in preparation, and looked up to–

His whole body stiffened, and for a moment his vision washed red in anger.

What in Hylia’s name was he doing here?!

It was bad enough that most of Link’s acquaintance was grouped ahead, a social gathering being the last thing he needed at the moment. But it felt like an utter slap in the face to see that goddess-darned robot sandwiched comfortably next to Zelda of all people, buzzing and chirping about something Link couldn’t hear at this distance, as the rest of the crowd listened in what appeared to be…

Rapture??

Link’s teeth gritted together so hard his jaw ached. He thought he was free of Scrapper after his mission, after Fi went to sleep and there was no reason for the robot to want to associate with him anymore. And yet there he was, seated happily next to Link’s best friend, captivating the whole crowd with tales of…what? His own conceit and false bravado?

Zelda laughed just then at something Scrapper had said, shaking her head a little with her eyes crinkled in amusement, and something twisted in Link’s chest. Maybe jealousy, maybe wrath, maybe an emotion he wasn’t even able to name, but he had to know what that odious little robot was saying to make Zelda laugh like that. He crept silently closer, no one bothering to notice him because their attention was fixed firmly on Scrapper, and caught his breath to listen.

“So of course, zoo-weep,” Scrapper buzzed, utterly pleased with his rapt audience, “I told Master Shortpants that I’d handle the monsters myself, because he’s just the worst, zrrp, and in maybe a minute I had them all cleared out. He was in awe, bzeep, since he couldn’t possibly do any of that himself.” He paused, seemingly glancing towards Zelda. “Like I’ve always said, bzzt, some hero he is! Master Shortpants can’t even defend himself from a simple monster; he’s really just a coward, zweep–”

“What did you say?”

Link’s sword had flashed from its sheath before he knew what he was doing, and he wielded it with trembling hands, red swimming in and out of his vision. The Skyloftians’ eyes were on him in an instant, but the only thing he could register was the way Scrapper leaned backwards just slightly, his nonrobotic eye seeming to widen a fraction.

That’s right, you little jerk, you better cower before me–

His rib screamed in protest at his sudden movements, but Link ignored the pain– something his journey had made him successful at– and took a step forward, fury boiling in his expression as he shoved the tip of his sword directly in Scrapper’s face. “I said ,” he spat, teeth clenched together as spots swarmed in his vision, “what did you say?”

“Link–” Zelda started to say, but Scrapper cut her off with a nervous zweeeeept! “That’s right,” Link choked, bile rising in his throat, “you should be nervous, because if you ever say a thing like that again I’ll tear your very circuits out, you hear me?” He lowered his sword, entire body beginning to tremble with exhaustion. “Because I spent this entire day killing monsters, and I did the same thing every day these past few months; and whenever I was with you and there were monsters you begged and pleaded for me to protect you, you who were safe in the air as I got stabbed and punched, so don’t even try to say that I am a coward because I’ll rip the propeller right from your stupid little head–”

“ Link!” Instructor Eagus’s voice snapped out, sharp and biting, and Link flinched, sending a fresh spurt of blood from his side. “I think that’s quite enough, don’t you?”

Link’s sword dropped to the grass with a metallic clang. He stood frozen in shock for a moment, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes upon him, and then set his jaw and limped past the silent crowd, yanking open the Sealed Temple’s side door and disappearing inside. He let the door slam shut behind him, the sound echoing in the ancient structure, and stormed over to his side of the temple, digging blindly through his belongings for a roll of bandages.

He finally located one and stumbled to his feet, easing out of his bloodied tunic and chainmail and letting them drop to the floor before glancing down at his torso. A wave of nausea washed over him at the sight of the bruises and deep gashes mottling his skin– during his journey, he usually just swallowed a potion after receiving an injury, never bothering to stop and treat the wound properly. The sight of fresh lacerations on his body was something he still wasn’t used to.

“Link?”

There was a booming echo as the Sealed Temple door swung shut again, the sound nearly drowning out Zelda’s voice. Link flinched a second time, resolutely keeping his back to her and wiping bloody hands on his pants, and Zelda continued softly, her words laced in concern, “What happened to you?”

Link swallowed. “Only about six dozen Bokoblins and skulltulas,” he muttered bitterly, peeling off his gloves. “Oh, and three stalmasters.”

“I’m– I’m sorry.” Her footsteps moved closer, hollow against the stone floor, and he could sense her hesitating as he started fumbling with the roll of bandages. “Do you…want help with that?”

He rolled his lips together, tasting the dried sweat upon them, before relenting with a slow nod. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

He turned to face her, and Zelda gasped, her eyes widening. Judging by her reaction, the front of his torso was much worse than the back. “Link, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, ears drooping slightly as she reached to take the bandages from him. “That must hurt a lot.”

He shrugged, instantly regretting the movement as a spasm of pain flared in his ribs. “It’s fine, I guess,” he said dully. For the first time he noticed she held a bucket of steaming water in her hands. “What’s that for?”

“To clean your wounds, silly. Were you not planning to?” Zelda told him faintly before pointing to a nearby stool. “Sit, please.”

Link obeyed, settling himself carefully onto the stool so as not to jostle his injuries further, and Zelda knelt beside him, dipping a cloth into the hot water and then pressing it gently to the wound on his forearm. He tensed, teeth sinking into his lower lip as a grimace passed over his face. ��Sorry,” Zelda whispered, cleaning the wound as gently as possible. “That must hurt a lot, huh?”

He hissed out a breath, then nodded, head dropping slightly. “Not as bad as my ribs,” he mumbled reluctantly. “Stalmaster broke one.”

“I’ll have to get you more than one potion when I’m done, then.” Zelda paused, one hand coming up to caress his cheek, which was crusted in dirt and streaks of dried sweat and blood. “Link, I’m…I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. I’ll come with you next time, help you–”

“No.” It came out harsher than he meant, and she flinched, starting to pull away. Link swallowed forcefully and caught her wrist before she could, keeping her palm on his face and leaning into her touch. “I’m sorry. I just…I don’t want you going through this, is all.” He let his eyes fall shut as she stroked one thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m doing it for you, you know.”

“I know,” she said softly, brushing sweaty bangs from his forehead. Her hand left his face, and he heard the cloth dip into the bucket again before she went back to the wound on his forearm. “I just wish you didn’t have to. If only I–”

“Don’t go there,” he whispered, eyes fluttering open again. “We’ve been over this before. I would do it all over again, every time. Every broken bone and sprained ankle and slash in my skin. All of it.” He had scarcely any strength to lift his arm, but he did so anyway, calloused fingertips ghosting her jaw. “Don’t go there,” he repeated hoarsely, briefly pressing his forehead to hers.

A sheen of tears filled her eyes as she rinsed the cloth and wrung it out, leaning to attend now to a wound on the right side of his chest. “Okay,” she answered simply, gaze meeting his for a brief second before it flickered away again. He knew how much she hated seeing him hurting, but she never let anyone but herself attend to his wounds. Her touch was always so gentle. It was as if she herself could feel his pain with every flinch that gripped his body.

The hot water might have felt almost soothing against his skin if it weren’t for the burning agony of his injuries. Link clenched his teeth together, hands tucked beneath his thighs on the stool as he rocked slightly back and forth in an attempt to drown out the pain. When he had something important to fulfill or focus on, he was able to ignore it, but right now the temple was silent and there was nothing he could do but sit here and endure it. He forced himself to concentrate instead on the light brushes of Zelda’s fingers against his skin, on her left palm where it rested on his bare shoulder, on the deep breaths that filled and emptied his lungs as she moved from injury to injury.

Zelda rinsed the cloth again after several minutes, but to little avail; the water in the bucket was already turning crimson, and the cloth itself was tinged red. Brows furrowed at that, she lifted it to his face, which was peppered with cuts and slashes. Cupping his jaw lightly in one hand, Zelda leaned in, dabbing gently at a particularly nasty laceration on his cheekbone, worry flooding her eyes as he flinched yet again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered for perhaps the hundredth time, her breath ghosting his lips. “I’m almost done and then I can bandage it and get you some potions, okay?”

He nodded mutely, fiercely biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making any sounds of pain as she accidentally scraped the cloth against the wound. He didn’t want her to worry any more than she already was. At least, he told himself, she was close enough to him that he could observe the way her lashes curled, the way her bangs framed her face, the way her eyes were free and endless like the sky. Yet again he wished Fi were here so she could tell him what to do about his feelings, although she would probably just say what she always had– that he should just tell Zelda outright.

But he couldn’t do that. He might battle horrifying monsters on a daily basis, but telling Zelda he loved her was another thing entirely.

But, he thought as she moved closer, now would be the perfect time to just lean in and steal the softest of kisses from her lips, but then again, she was cleaning his wounds, almost directly after an outburst from him in which he threatened to essentially disembowel a robot.

It might not be the best time, after all.

Link kept his sigh behind his teeth, moving his gaze to the wall behind her before she could catch him staring, although knowing her, he was probably too late. She always caught him staring, unfortunately for him. And she caught him often.

After what felt like an eternity, Zelda sat back and placed the cloth in the bucket for good, then picked up the roll of bandages. As she tore loose a length of bandage and began to wind it around the gash on his forearm, she shot him a nervous glance, looking as if she wanted to say something but was unsure of how to approach it.

“What is it?” Link asked her finally, after she started to speak and then backpedaled for a third time.

She started at the question, embarrassment flashing momentarily on her face. “Well, I was…I was wondering about what happened…out there.” Zelda swallowed, shifting in slight discomfort. “The only other time I’ve seen you that angry was when Groose tried asking me on a date right after beating you to a pulp.”

“Oh.” He should have known. It was pretty obvious someone would ask, sooner or later, and he should have known it would be her, but he was just so tired . He stared at the floor for a long moment, wincing as she knotted the bandage tight, sifting through his thoughts without success. “Um…” He wet his lips, trying to piece the words together. “Well, the simplest way to put it– Scrapper and I have…history.”

“How so?” She looked up at him, genuinely curious, starting to wrap another strip of bandage around his chest.

How to say it without calling Scrapper the foulest word known to exist in Skyloftian language–

“He– I encountered him several times on my quest, and… he was far from polite or civilized or even decent in the simplest terms of the word.” Link huffed, already beginning to feel angry again. “I literally helped him start functioning again, but ever since then, he’s treated me like a child. Like he’s the hero, and I’m some bumbling idiot in his way. I never would have guessed a robot could have that much of an ego.”

Zelda gave a half-smile, tugging the bandage tight. “I kind of gathered he had a lot of conceit from what he said outside. He kept going on about how he was the real hero of the story and all that.”

Link rolled his eyes. “Hero, my foot . Once he bragged to me about how he would’ve taken down all these monsters if his hands weren’t full, and then the instant one breathed in his direction, he started wailing about how he hated monsters. He would practically scream at me until I had killed them asking if I was going to take care of them.” He scoffed, brows drawing together in recollection. “That time was pretty bad, actually. Some Bokoblins shot me with arrows once or twice, and then a Moblin knocked me unconscious and at one point I even caught on fire. And that…. danged robot had the nerve to tell me I wasn’t doing enough, that I should do better , after he malfunctioned when a Moblin touched him once.”

“So… he was always deriding you?” Anger clouded her face. “Acting like you were…small and stupid and weak?”

“Yeah, uh, pretty much.” Link swallowed, feeling suddenly ashamed. “I know it’s dumb, but I just got so angry seeing him earlier, because I did so much and then he had the audacity to call me a coward.” His throat became tight. “I wanted to rip him apart, gear by gear, right then and there.”

“I could tell,” Zelda said softly.

“Which…” He paused, uncomfortable. “That reminds me. Why were you all laughing at what he was saying? You– everyone seemed captivated by it, and you laughed at something in particular, and–” Link’s chest twisted for the second time that evening. “Was it…funny that he was making fun of me? Putting me down? I just…I don’t really understand.” He met her gaze, faint distress in his eyes at the thought that she had been laughing at him.

Horror filled Zelda’s expression, and the roll of bandages fell from her grasp as she reached to grab his hand. “What? No! We weren’t– I wasn’t laughing at you! I was laughing because of how ridiculous his claims were. He was the hero, and you were just some coward shaking in the shadows? I mean, you vanquished Demise! It was just– utter garbage what he was telling us, and everyone knew it. We all thought it was hilarious because of how stupid it was, but he must have thought we believed him.” She bit her lip, her hand moving to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry you thought we were making fun of you,” she told him softly, pressing her forehead to his. “I would never do that, okay? Ever. I promise.”

He let his eyes fall shut, leaning forward against her, and then her hands were sliding up behind his neck and his head was moving to rest in the crook of her shoulder. She held him close, her arms wrapped around him tight enough that he knew she didn’t want to let go, but not so tight she was further hurting his injuries. With her chin tucked over the top of his head, Zelda rocked him gently back and forth, humming one of their favorite childhood lullabies, her scent enveloping him like wildflowers.

Link nestled closer to her, scarcely caring that he was half-clothed with a broken rib, that he probably needed to drink a few potions, that tomorrow everything would hurt like fire. Nothing mattered right now except for her.

Earlier, he reflected dazedly, he thought his bedroll would feel like the best thing on earth, but he was incorrect. Because nothing compared to being tucked in Zelda’s arms, his head on her shoulder, her heartbeat thumping a bit rapidly under one ear as she held him close.

Hylia, how he loved her. The only thing he wanted right now more than falling asleep in her arms was to lift his head and steal a thousand kisses from her lips. But instead he stayed still, just breathing her in.

“I’m sorry….I was stupid outside,” he mumbled into her collarbone, already half-asleep as she combed her fingers through his sweat-stiff hair.

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered. Was he dreaming already, or did she press a kiss to the top of his head? “You have nothing to be sorry for, and you weren’t stupid. In fact, I’m half tempted to dismantle that robot myself.”

He grinned sleepily and somehow managed to twine his arms around her waist, pressing even closer. “Just don’t let Gondo see.” A yawn erupted from him, and he allowed the darkness to wash over him, floating him away towards unconsciousness.

“Link?”

“Mmmm?”

There was a long pause, so long he wondered if he had imagined hearing her voice. But then, so faint he could scarcely perceive it, Zelda whispered a response into his hair.

“I love you, Link.”

He was so tired he barely registered what she had said, but he had imagined this moment so many times his own response came naturally.

“I love you too…my Zelda.”

And then he was asleep.

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