A Night to Forget (Hyrule Warriors Fic)
(@copper-dimes @ludoluck @artisticgamer @silvercaptain24)
ALL RIGHT so I was going to wait until my hiatus ended on Christmas but I’ve had so many people poking me about publishing this on AO3 and not here 😂😂😂 so here we go, have the drinking competition fic
Summary: When Captain Link challenges the Fierce Deity to a drinking game for completely innocent reasons, it goes about as well as you would expect.
(Click here to read on AO3)
A strong smell of iron permeated the air at the end of the fight. It had been an ambush targeted specifically at Link and his young companion, but despite being outnumbered their battle prowess served them well.
Not to mention help from a certain cursed mask.
Link hadn’t been sure when he would next see the Fierce Deity, but after having a few encounters with the strange being he had learned a few things about him. One, he was terrifyingly powerful. Two, he typically stuck to the battlefield, but when he didn’t…
He was a menace to Link’s productivity. And pride.
Still, Link could only be so angry at him considering how many times the strange entity had saved him and his men. Honestly, angry wasn’t even the right word. More like exasperated.
But Link was curious too. And he wanted to get the deity back for that time he hauled him into camp like a child. He had long since planned this encounter, hoping for an opportunity to meet the fierce being again and have the time to be able to do what he had conspired one night.
“Thank you for the help,” Link said as he approached the towering figure. He wanted to add we had it under control, but he bit it back. That wasn’t going to help him right now. He didn’t want to argue, he wanted to be diplomatic about this – it was still not a skill he would call a strength, but he was working on it.
He was sure he could pull it off, anyway.
Fierce watched him silently as he usually did when they first would interact. Then he nodded in acknowledgement. His hand started to reach towards his face when the captain held a hand out to stop him. “Wait! I was… we were heading into town. I was wondering if you wanted to accompany us.”
“I will be here if available,” the deity replied simply.
“No, no,” Link shook his head. “I mean like here here, you know, not just at the ready. We were going to hit the taverns.”
Fierce stared at him. Link watched him a moment, wondering if the being was even catching his meaning, so he decided to spell it out.
“We were going to go drinking.”
When the deity said nothing, Link felt a need to elaborate. “I’m inviting you to come too.”
The deity’s striking eyebrows crept closer together in seeming confusion. The sight of it made Link almost laugh. This was going to be even better than he’d suspected.
“What do you say to a drinking contest?” he challenged, throwing the gauntlet and awaiting an answer.
Fierce blinked. "A what?"
Link's smile grew. This revenge was long in the making, and he was going to enjoy it. "A drinking contest."
The cursed deity crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I am here because of the attack. You expect me to stay after the fact?"
"Well I'm not drinking with the sprite," Link shrugged. Then he faltered a little, partly out of sincerity and partly in an attempt to persuade the deity. "I mean... unless you don't want to stay?"
Fierce's face softened, and he swallowed, seemingly caught off guard. "I'll stay, Captain."
Link felt a little sorry for the deity, who was so surprised at being included in anything aside from war, but he shook the feeling off temporarily in lieu of his master plan. "Great! Then I'll pour the wine."
Clapping his hand on Fierce’s armored back, Link led the way into town. They both cleaned their swords of the blood from battle as they walked in silence. The town was barely an excursion away at this point, which was partly why the ambush had been such a surprise – honestly, if the fools were going to jump them they should have done it somewhere more remote.
The tavern Link had in mind was close to the edge of town, and barely half an hour had passed by the time they walked through the door. The interior was homely, with wood flooring and walls and the occasional supporting beam. The bar hugged the right wall beside an enormous stone hearth where a fire roared and emitted enough heat to warm the soul. Tables were spread around with candlelight glowing all around them. The tavern was fairly full tonight, with about half the tables occupied.
Upon their entry, a few curious eyes landed on the pair. Seeing a soldier was not a new sight, but seeing the Fierce Deity was an entirely different matter. Link wasn’t sure how much news about the deity had spread, but he was at least well known in Link’s company of soldiers, and it was possible others might have heard of him. No one dared approach them, though. Fierce shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking around the room with tension in his massive body.
Link bumped his shoulder against the taller man’s arm. “Relax, we’re here to have fun! Pick a table, I’ll get the wine.”
Choosing a red from a vineyard that he’d actually heard of, Link merrily made his way to the table Fierce had chosen. It was in the corner of the tavern, allowing the cursed deity a clear view of the entire room. Link respected the tactical choice, but he waved his hand dismissively nonetheless upon plopping down across from Fierce. “No one should be attacking us here, and if they do they’ll certainly regret it. Now, let’s drink!”
Fierce watched Link pour liberally into his glass and shove it towards him. After Link had poured his own wine, he held his glass in the air and waited for Fierce to do so as well. The deity watched him almost curiously before mirroring Link’s gesture, and when Link clinked his glass against the deity’s, he took a healthy gulp of his drink and watched Fierce tentatively taste his own. The sight was nearly entertaining enough to send Link into giggles; it was apparent that Fierce was not used to alcohol.
Wine wasn’t usually the best drink to choose for a contest – shots were far faster at determining who could stomach the ordeal. Nonetheless, Link had planned his revenge carefully around a sincere curiosity as well. He’d start off gently to pry some information out of his mysterious companion before the fun really started.
Assuming the deity could handle that much. Link was half convinced the cursed being would be under the table before the wine bottle was empty, and oh wouldn’t that be a sight to see? Link smirked thinking about it.
Get what you deserve for carrying me into camp in your arms.
Although Link’s reputation had somehow survived that encounter (mainly because Fierce had been too intimidating for the soldiers to make any kind of fun of anything related to him, and because he’d spent the rest of the night drilling the army), his pride certainly had been wounded. He would make up for that.
The Fierce Deity’s nose scrunched after a sip of the wine, his lips twisting in obvious distaste. Link huffed. Well, then. He supposed they’d have to find something the cursed being would like.
Taking another generous sip from his glass (one did have to shake off the adrenaline rush of that ambush, after all), Link felt warmth spread from his stomach to his fingers and toes, and he sighed in relief. “Have you never had wine before?”
Although the Fierce Deity had no pupils or irises, it was apparent when his gaze was fixed on the captain. The alcohol in Link’s system lessened the affects of the stare’s intensity, but he still felt a little chill from the look. The deity said softly, “No.”
“You’re telling me you once ruled over a land ages ago and never once partook in a celebratory drink?” Link questioned, raising an eyebrow. He recalled distinctly when the mystical being had stated something similar while telling the captain off during their first encounter together. “Or is there another drink you prefer?”
The Fierce Deity swirled his wine in his glass, watching it discerningly. “Beverages do little for me, and I hardly partook in celebrations. My duties did not include frivolity.”
Link finished his glass with another gulp. “So what you’re saying is you never had fun.”
Fierce glanced at Link once more and then finished the entire glass of wine in one gigantic swig. He cleared his throat, his face contorting in disgust, and then he said, “Fun is a broad word with many possibilities behind it. But if you insist in this, refill the drink.”
Oh, if that wasn’t a challenge, Link didn’t know what was. He laughed heartily. “Well, I’ll find a better drink for us to compete, and then we’ll see what real fun looks like.”
The bottle he’d acquired probably had enough for a refill for each of them, but if the Fierce Deity was going to grimace his way through it, it would hardly be fun. Link wanted the mystical being to settle so he could get some more information out of him. In the back of his head, the comment beverages do little for me sounded alarm bells, but he ignored it. He could do this. He could outdrink this cursed deity; if he could outclass everyone in the knight academy and rise to the rank of captain, if he could be chosen by the goddesses to be the Hero who led his troops into battle, and if the Master Sword itself had chosen him and made him practically invincible in battle, then he could handle a simple drinking competition.
And it was fun. Link so rarely had fun. He was taking advantage of this.
The captain decided that perhaps something that better hid the taste of alcohol was in order. Selecting something a bit more fruity (and definitely much stronger), he took two smaller glasses filled to the brim back to his table. The world was already quite warm and strangely mobile, leading Link to stumble a hair as he got to his seat. He shook his head. That was weird.
Fierce took the glass without moving his focus from the captain. When Link held his glass up in an invitation once more, the deity slowly mimicked the gesture.
“We need a reason for a toast this time,” Link prompted. “What do you think?”
Fierce’s glass shifted away from Link’s a little. “What is a reason for a toast?”
Link paused, staring at the deity. He really hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he hadn’t been to celebrations. The captain suddenly felt his stomach churn a bit, but he shook his head. “Well, anything to celebrate over! Your good health, a victory in battle, something of that nature.”
“Something to celebrate,” Fierce muttered, and then tapped his glass against Link’s and drank.
Link raised an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to announce the toast first.”
Fierce stared at Link for a moment and then clinked his empty glass against the captain’s. “Toast.”
Link sighed and downed his drink, biting back a cough. Goddess, that drink was a bit stronger than he’d realized. “All right, okay, let’s try this again. I’ll demonstrate.”
Deciding that it was best to finish the wine before getting more drinks, Link poured the remainder of the bottle into their glasses. Fierce seemed to tolerate the other drink better, so maybe it would allow him to finish the wine quickly.
Raising his glass, Link said, “To your health.”
The Fierce Deity watched him curiously, his glass held a distance from Link’s as if he’d forgotten they were supposed to tap them together. Link moved to him first, and they both drank in silence for a moment. The captain watched the cursed deity with some confusion as Fierce refused to take his eyes off him.
“What?” Link finally asked.
Fierce paused a moment before commenting, “Of all the things you choose to make your toast for, you choose my health.”
“Yes…?”
Fierce finally looked at the table, lowering his glass. “It simply makes me recognize more the wisdom of the goddesses.”
Link blinked, even more bewildered. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that this conversation actually didn’t make any sense. “What are you talking about?”
“I have seen many a hero in my days,” the deity continued, finishing the rest of his wine without a care. “Most were given the title by those they fought for. Most were undeserving of it. But you and Link are among the few who are not.”
Link watched Fierce a moment, and then asked, “Did they call you a hero?”
Fierce blinked and then he outright laughed.
“Oh, how young you are,” Fierce chuckled, clearly tickled. “No, little soldier. I am not a hero.”
Link opened his mouth to question further, but Fierce waved a dismissive hand and pointed to his wine glass. “You haven’t finished your drink, captain.”
Link stared at his wine, suddenly pensive. This vintage was particularly red, and the deity’s words echoed loudly in his foggy mind. The wine suddenly looked too thick, too viscous, too visceral. Link pushed it away.
“I don’t know if… I don’t know if I’m a hero,” he muttered.
He didn’t know where that came from. Link clearly knew he was the Hero of Hyrule, chosen by the goddesses. He’d been told as much, and he bore the Triforce. That was reason enough, wasn’t it? He’d been given the ceremonial clothing and everything. The Master Sword was his.
He knew he was the Hero. He just… didn’t know if he was a hero.
Heroes didn’t slaughter their own men at the slightest hint of treachery. Heroes didn’t lead their troops into massacres.
Heroes didn’t use children for soldiers.
A hand touched his chin, pushing it upwards, and Link realized that Fierce had reached across the table to get his attention. The deity watched him carefully, his features softer than the captain had ever seen them.
“You are a hero,” the deity said gently. “Now get something better than this vile drink you call wine. The other was far superior.”
Link had to laugh, leaning into the touch a little as the deity tapped his chin affectionately and retracted his hand. Then he almost wanted to smack himself as he realized he’d completely gotten off track of his objective.
“Fine,” he acquiesced. “But you have to tell me about these heroes of yore when I get back.”
It was a strangely long trip to the bar, as if the table had somehow gotten farther away. Link furrowed his brow in mild confusion, but beyond that the trip back with more shots was uneventful. Fierce had seemed to like these, so they’d stick with them from here on. He didn’t bother with a toast this time around because he didn’t want to get distracted again, so he prompted the deity to speak of the past heroes.
“Well, there was this one… named…” Fierce paused, squinting across the way at nothing in particular, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table. “Saria. She… was very well known…”
“You are absolutely pulling this out of your divine butt,” Link guffawed, nearly choking on his drink.
Fierce scrunched his nose a little in protest. “It has been several millennia, these things get mixed up.”
“You’re full of crap.”
“I am not a storyteller, captain. That was never my duty.”
The deity downed his drink with a scowl. Link followed suit with a laugh and then coughed as it burned a little harder than before. He waved off the curious glance from his companion. Why was it so warm here all of a sudden? Link slipped his cap off and fanned himself a bit with it.
“I do remember one instance,” Fierce finally admitted. “There were… many who sought me out. Many who asked for my aid, but also many who wished to challenge me. It was considered an honor to fight me. I found the practice… bizarre and tiresome. Most of the time I would ward them off, but there were a few who… drew my wrath. Fewer still who piqued my interest.
“There were twin warriors who came to me. A threat was looming over my territory, and these two were the least of my worries, but they persisted. The girl wished to prove her worth while the boy wished to help me. I found the matter almost laughable. Neither warrior could stand against me. But a challenge to prove worth was nothing new to me… a request to assist me was.
“The girl was filled with pride. The boy with humility. They couldn’t be more opposite, but they were both capable fighters. Both were hailed as heroes by their people, but only one truly fit the title. Still… I grew fond of them.”
Link plopped his chin into his hand, leaning on the table as the world spun around them. “Uhhhh… s-so what happened?”
The deity twirled his glass absentmindedly in his hands, staring at it. “They both died.”
“Oh,” Link said dully, trying with all his might to find the right words for this situation. He felt like this usually came easier to him. Slapping his hand on the table, he said, “Well, let’s drink to them!”
That… that was the appropriate response, right? Seemed it. Fierce’s bizarre glance didn’t quite sell the certainty in Link’s mind, but he couldn’t go back on it now.
Rising, the captain stumbled to the bar once more. When he got back with another couple shots, he spilled a little bit of the drinks as he nearly fell into his chair. Raising his glass and feeling some of it slosh all over his hand, he said loudly, “To the non-heroic—wai’, to the heroic—nah you said one of ‘em wasn’t—to the twins!”
The Fierce Deity’s eyebrow had been steadily climbing throughout Link’s toast (though he couldn’t imagine why, it was a reasonable toast, after all), and he barely clinked his glass against the captain’s. Link downed his so fast he almost choked on it and then he laughed, slamming the glass on the table. “Phew! Tha’ stuff iss great!”
He supposed the cursed deity might have had a reply for him, but he shot to his feet to get more. The Fierce Deity didn’t even seem bothered with all the drinks they’d had so far, and Link had a feeling he maybe was starting to get to a point where this was a problem. But not yet! He’d beat Fierce at this game. He would.
…Wait, when did he end up on the floor?
Link blinked, confused. He was sure he’d just been standing at the table, why was he lying on the ground? Whose boots were in front of him?
A strong pair of hands grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet before arms wrapped around him and pulled him into the air. Link tried to yelp but it came out more like a bizarre mixture of a gasp and a hiccup. He looked around before his eyes settled on the glowing gaze of his strange companion.
“Fierce…?”
“You must be ill. I’ve seen it happen with celebrations like these. I’m taking you back to camp.”
Link snorted, swatting the deity’s chest. “I though’ you sssaid you never been t’ those parties.”
The Fierce Deity seemed to ignore him, much to his irritation as the world started moving rhythmically with the large being’s steps. Then Link reached up, trying to pull Fierce’s blue cap off but only succeeding in tangling his fingers in his silver hair. He frowned, confused at his lack of coordination as the deity paused and stared at him.
Well, he got his attention either way.
“I gotta pay,” he said.
Fierce blinked. “Pay?”
“Yeah. Pay. Fer the drinks.”
Fierce must have turned, because the world spun and Link felt suddenly too dizzy and warm. Then bounce bounce bounce and they stood in front of the bar.
The bartender watched the pair a little nervously.
“We need to pay,” Fierce explained.
Link trilled his lips. “I need ta pay, ssstupid. My offer, my drinks, my money.”
Fierce looked down at Link and shrugged, temporarily plopping the captain on the counter itself. He reached for Link’s wallet and tossed the entire pouch at the bartender, who caught it with a grunt as if the throw had more force to it than it probably should have. Link opened his mouth to protest—he didn’t need all his rupees—when Fierce picked him back up and carried him out of the tavern.
Link wiggled helplessly. “I can walk—”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No.”
Link groaned.
For some reason the walk to camp took forever. And not at all? Had he slept? He didn’t know. What he did know was that his armor and chainmail were off and he was being settled on a cot. Movement caught his attention and he saw Fierce setting up some water beside him and grabbing an extra blanket, tucking it around him tightly.
“Sleepover…?” he asked confusedly.
Fierce’s face broke into a small, rare grin and his chest rumbled with what was probably a restrained chuckle. “No, little soldier. I’m not sleeping. Link will be, though. Now close your eyes.”
Link? He was Link. What? He was…
Ohh, that Link.
The captain hummed, squirming a bit into the pile of blankets to get more comfortable. A hand settled on his shoulder for a moment, heavy and reassuring, and then it disappeared.
Darkness was warm and welcoming, and Link let it take him.
Link would be lying if he said the hangover the next day was worth the night. The worst part of it was that he barely remembered anything.
And he’d planned it so perfectly too. How frustrating.
Well. He didn’t quite forget everything. He remembered seeing the Fierce Deity smile, and he remembered the gentle surprise at being included.
Honestly, that was enough. Maybe the hangover was worth it for that.
Just… he thought as he leaned over waste basket after throwing up for probably the third time. Maybe fewer drinks next time.
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