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tenderleavesbob · 9 hours

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If someone asked the chain about which era they hated the most, Warriors thought almost everyone would say Hyrule's era. Warriors? He hated Wild's era. He hated scrambling to get out of his armor so he wasn't struck by lightning. He hated the lack of memory about the time he was too slow to strip. He hated the sudden rainbursts and what they did to his hair. At the moment, Warriors hated the cold and snow the most.

Wind was dozing on Warriors's back as he trudged through the thigh-high snow. If it wasn't for the vicious cold, Warriors thought Wind would have dozed off by now, but the boy's shivering kept waking him up. He had wrapped his scarf around the boy and Wild had offered some of his special jewelry, but it didn't change the fact that it was freezing.

Time was in the front and helping the others walk through the thick snow. Warriors was normally in the rear to keep an eye on everyone, but due to Wind on Warriors's back, Twilight walked in the back now. Legend and Hyrule huddled together as they walked, and Sky carried Four on his back. Wild was helping Time in the front.

Wild insisted that there was a cabin close by. Warriors hoped so. He felt numb and his legs felt dead from the cold. Dragging them through the snow was a nightmare and Wind's weight on his back was making it worse, although he would never let Wind know that. They had encountered some of Wild's monsters, too, and there were two black-blooded lizalfos in the group. One had struck Wind with ice before Warriors cut its head off. He wished he had moved faster. He wasn't sure about everyone else's injuries, but there were various bloody tracks in the snow. It made Warriors feel sick. He couldn't do a thing to help anyone right now beyond carrying Wind. It didn't feel like enough.

"You're limping," Twilight said worriedly behind him. "Are you okay? I can take Wind."

Warriors grunted. Was he limping? He lost feeling to his legs a while ago. "I'm okay. How does Wind look?"

"Cold," Twilight said. "Are you sure --"

"Smoke!" Four shouted. He yelled right in Sky's ear and made the other hero yelp. While Four apologized to Sky, Time nodded and pointed.

"Right there. That must be the cabin. We're almost there."

Warriors could have cried. He hated the cold so much. He couldn't check on Wind, he couldn't make the chain stop so he could check on them, and his burn scars felt like the cold air was shrinking them. His skin felt too sensitive and tight where he could feel it at all.

Twilight hovered by Warriors's shoulder as they hurried forward. Warriors half-expected him to bound forward to Wild's side, but he stayed close. If a monster appeared right then, Warriors wouldn't need Twilight's help: he would pull out Legend's fire rod and burn everything down.

One by one, they stumbled into the cabin. Wild confirmed it was his friend's cabin as they collapsed inside. Wild started a fire while Hyrule fussed over injuries and Legend and Time ordered everyone to start changing into dry clothes. Sky hauled Four onto one of the couches and then sat on the floor in a tired heap.

Warriors knew he should help, but he was so exhausted he thought his legs would give out. He almost tripped over his own feet as he stepped out of the snow and into the cabin. Twilight stayed close to him to make sure he didn't fall or drop Wind.

Legend glanced at him and his mouth parted to say something guaranteed to annoy Warriors. To Warriors's confusion, his mouth opened and shut several times before the Vet glared at him and put his hands on his hips. "Why didn't you say you were hurt? You should have had Twilight carry Wind, you idiot!"

Hurt? Warriors frowned at him and carried Wind over to the couch. Wind grumbled on his shoulder. He thought Wind had fallen asleep after all. Twilight helped him put Wind down before he started looking Warriors over. "I'm not hurt. I'm just --"

"Bleeding," Twilight said flatly. He pointed at Warriors's leg. Warriors looked down, too.

Snow was melting off his legs. Under his right foot, the growing puddle was a distinct pink. Warriors could see where his pant leg was torn with fresh red blooming on the skin. Warriors leaned down to poke it.

Twilight slapped his hand away. "Stop that!" he snapped. "Sit down. Let me see it."

"I can't feel it!" Warriors protested. He went to poke it again, but Twilight stopped him by shoving him to sit beside Wind. Wind scowled in his sleep and curled up into the couch.

Hyrule glanced at his leg but hurried to Wind first. Warriors tried to help, but Twilight smacked his hands. Annoyed, Warriors smacked his hands back. This started a small slapfight as Time sighed and knelt beside Warriors.

"This looks deep, Captain," he said. Time ignored the faces Twilight and Warriors made at each other. "Your leg is also freezing. You need to strip and warm up."

"That's what I was trying to do," Warriors grumbled. Just to be an ass, he went to poke his leg again. He was starting to warm up and feel the wound. Warriors preferred it when it was numb.

"Idiot," Legend was saying on the other side of the cabin. "Walking around not even noticing he was hurt."

His back was to Warriors. Warriors was tempted to stick his tongue out at him.

"Now, now, children," Sky sighed. He had finished helping Four change into warm clothes and was now changing his own. He looked exhausted. It was almost enough to make Warriors feel guilty. Sky normally refrained from being snarky.

"Yes, children. You're all idiots," Four chimed in. Warriors's remorse died a quick death.

"I didn't --"

"He was --"

"Less complaining and more changing, Captain," Time droned. "You're bleeding all over the floor."

Of all the eras, Warriors knew without a doubt that he absolutely hated Wild's the most.

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu time #lu twilight #lu legend #lu chain #lu four

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tenderleavesbob · 12 hours

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I originally planned on the unicorn fic to include this scene. It grew long so I decided to cut it up.

As soon as he could, Warriors returned to his normal Hylian form and resumed fighting. He had no plans on shifting back, so he had no idea why he was currently in his unicorn form, letting Time and Wind pet him.

"Your form is much bigger than it used to be," Time said. The admiration in his voice and on his face was clear. Right. That was why he was in this form.

Four was holding up Time's mirror shield in front of him so Warriors could see himself. There was a small white bandage on his head. He was mostly healed, but Hyrule sat beside him, paying more attention to Four than Warriors. Warriors appreciated that.

He also appreciated his reflection in the mirror. When Warriors had previously transformed, he looked like a skinny colt barely holding himself up on his thin legs. Now he was bigger than Epona. His muscles rippled under his shiny white coat. He looked like a warhorse instead of a delicate, dainty picture more worthy of a Lady's painting than a battlefield. How he had hated it when he transformed. He remembered that small, awful form every time Cia looked at him during the war and called him pretty.

"You look amazing, Warriors," Wind said in open awe.

Warriors preened and tossed his mane. It just happened to hit Twilight in the face, and Twilight pulled away quickly. Twilight grinned sheepishly at Warriors and rubbed the back of his head. Yeah. Warriors had seen him and how Twilight was studying him. He bet by then Twilight had a good assessment of exactly how tall he was and had made comparisons to the horses in his own era. If Twilight tried to feed him an apple like he would Epona, Warriors would bite him.

"Don't feed his ego," Legend scoffed, but it was too late for him to bullshit. The only reason Time and Wind had convinced him to shift at all was because of how Legend had initially reacted. Otherwise, Warriors would have sworn off shifting for the rest of his life.

Warriors snorted and looked at the mirror again. If he studied it enough, maybe that weak, unworthy colt in his memory would fade away. This form was strong enough to carry Legend and Four to safety. It was strong enough to carry him across a dangerous battlefield to them in the first place. He still would have preferred something like Twilight's wolf, but maybe this form was good enough, after all.

Maybe he was good enough. Warriors huffed quietly and looked away from the mirror.

His colt self was barely taller than Mask, but his current form was taller than Time. He couldn't resist. He leaned forward and started nibbling Time's hair. It desperately needed a wash, but it was worth it to hear Time yelp.

It was nice to be the bigger brother again. Another reason to transform again in the future.

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu time #lu twilight #lu wind #shifter au #unicorn warriors

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tenderleavesbob · 1 day

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Volga gets some spotlight for a change (hdw au)

Comes after Volga confronting Cia (and Link on Skyloft, but it’s slightly less necessary to understand this)

...

Volga seeks out and fights the strongest. That is his objective.

He goes where the sorceress tells him, leads monsters into battles as she deems fit. He sees others only as adversaries, evaluating them solely on the threat they pose, the strength they wield.

Nothing else matters.

Only his orders, and strength.

The Hylian army is at their gates, working steadily through the valley, and despite the sorceress increasing Volga’s power, they’re still advancing, calling upon the Great Fairy to aid them. Volga himself is forced to retreat back to Cia’s side, and he stands silently beside her, waiting for her orders.

She’s watching the battle with a look in her eye that grows steadily more enraged, her knuckles whitening on her staff. It isn’t long before she orders him back out, commanding him to find the princess and crush her.

Volga nods, preparing to obey, when the sorceress stops him, a manic look in her eyes.

“This time you will destroy them,” she snarls, and thrusts her hand against his chest.

Power rushes through him, greater than what he had received before, and Volga roars as it fills his veins, turning into a dragon and leaping into the air.

This time he will be the strongest.

Volga glides across the valley, making a beeline towards the army’s leader, the princess’s sword flashing across the battlefield. He lands with a roar, and she quickly turns her attention to him, eyes widening as she leaps out of the way of his first attack.

Volga is merciless, using his weapons of both spear and claws, shooting fire and dive bombing with his dragon form. The princess is annoyingly stubborn though, avoiding nearly all of his attacks, parrying blows and dodging flames.

Some distant part of Volga is impressed.

He snarls as she avoids yet another thrust of his spear, and the princess looks at him, something odd flashing in her gaze.

“Volga! Come to your senses!” she suddenly shouts, parrying an attack. “I know you to fight with honor! What glory is there to be found in using dark magic to win all of your battles?”

“Don’t mock me!” Volga snarls, slamming a clawed hand towards her. How dare she?

“Open your eyes!” Zelda shouts as she dodges, still not giving up. “I believed you to be a proud dragon warrior, not a mercenary for darkness!“

Their weapons clash, and Zelda looks up at Volga without fear, her blue eyes bright.

“Think of your family, Volga. Look past the darkness clouding your vision.”

Volga falters just a hair, a snarl dying in his throat. There is certainly no darkness clouding him, merely the extra power the sorceress provided, but Zelda’s words of family carry a spark of something different. Something... important?

Volga shakes his head, frowning.

...What had she said again?

The spark fades, and Volga roars, hitting her backwards with a clawed hand. The princess is thrown to the ground with a cry, but before Volga can press his attack, there’s a flash of blue and green, and the Hero stands in his way, sword raised.

He has a stricken expression on his face, but Volga barely registers it, roaring again as he goes to face the both of them. The princess regains her footing as the hero slams his shield up to block Volga’s spear, and the three of them resume the fight.

Other monsters join the attack, and the hero’s attention is drawn to keeping them away from his princess, mostly leaving her and Volga to fight alone. Volga draws constantly on the sorceress’s power, and it’s soon obvious the princess begins to flag against his brutal attacks.

She fights on though, tenacious as ever. Soon enough Volga finds their weapons locked again, her eyes fixed on his face.

“Knight Volga, I thought you a protector, a dragon of honor,” she says, voice breathless but earnest. Blood drips across her eye but she doesn’t loosen her grip to wipe it away. “This isn’t who you are, drawing on dark power, fighting in wars for a cause you don’t believe in!”

That persistent spark of something comes back in Volga’s mind, flickering in his thoughts, buzzing in his memory. It makes him falter, just a little.

“Please,” Zelda repeats, still straining against his spear. “For Link’s sake.”

The name rings familiar, and Volga stumbles as a face flickers in his mind, blue eyes shining through the murk. Looking at him in trepidation as information spills from hylian lips, scales glittering in places they have no right to be.

What is this memory?

He can’t recall the events that led to it, or what came after, or even where he was when it occurred. In fact... all he can really recall is the sharp urge to fight the strongest, destroy the enemy, do as the sorceress commands.

Who is the boy with scales on his arms, and hair nearly the same color as his own?

“Volga,” the princess speaks again, less strained now, and Volga belatedly realizes he’s stopped fighting. “Fight past this darkness. I know you are more than what Cia is letting you be.”

Cia.

The name is like a clap of thunder in his head, and suddenly the darkness he’d denied was choking him is all too evident, coursing through him alongside his fire, constricting his thoughts and twisting his actions. Its influence is overwhelming, and Volga clutches a hand over his chest, thoughts whirling as memories rush back.

Cia invading his home and forcing him under her service, ignoring his wishes to be left alone. Using her magic to make him fight, starting a war over lust for his son, putting him on the opposite side of his own kin.

Purposely obscuring the fact that he had a son.

Volga snarls, anger rising as flames drip from his lips. Cia used dark power, foisted upon him without his say, using him as nothing but another pawn in her game and his son—

“No... no!” Volga shouts, gripping at his head with both hands. “I won’t be ruled by darkness!”

He won’t remain Cia’s puppet for another second.

Volga lashes out at the darkness coating him, tearing at Cia’s influence in his chest. He can feel her power fight back the moment he pushes against it, darkness reaching up to claw at his mind, but Volga tears back with claws of his own, refusing to succumb to it again.

He pushes back with his own power, not that of the sorceress, fire clashing with darkness.

A roar builds in his throat as he gains a solid foothold, and he pushes it out, Cia’s dark power leaving him all in a rush.

And he is free.

Weakness follows the loss of power, but even as Volga drops to a knee, he feels more clearheaded, more alive, then he has in weeks.

And it’s overwhelmingly refreshing.

Volga curls his fingers into the dirt as he regains his bearings, clutching his spear as he raises himself up off the ground again. The princess stands a few feet away, watching him with a hopeful look on her face, and Volga huffs, looking away.

...right into the eyes of the hero.

His son.

Volga stares, the boy staring back with an uncertain look on his face. The hero’s gaze is interrupted by a monster slashing at him, and Volga shakes himself, then looks around the battlefield, taking in what he’s missed.

His gaze falls on the princess again, and something burns in his chest, a need to finish what he started. Volga raises his spear in challenge, pointing it at her and the hero.

“This time I will duel you properly. I will win this fight under my own power,” he declares.

He has other business, important business even (Cia will pay, he swears it), but his pride insists he finishes this fight. He wants to show the two of them how he really fights, no dark powers, no false strength.

To finish the fight he began in an honorable manner.

The princess hesitates at his request, exchanging a loaded look with her hero. But he nods, and she nods as well, pointing her sword back.

And they start the fight anew, dragon, princess, and hero.

The fight is invigorating, to say the least. Volga’s very scales seem to buzz with excitement as he battles the two, the old fire coming back to his blood. They’re an incredible team, truly powerful, and fighting them helps immensely with continuing to wake him up, forcing any remnant of Cia’s power from his bones.

They weave in and out in tandem, one of them striking, and then darting out as the other attacks. Despite the remaining weakness from the loss of darkness, Volga matches them blow for blow, his blood singing as he duels the two.

He hasn’t had a fight this challenging in years, and it reminds him of older days, of other duels.

A smile on a tanned face, ruby-red eyes, hair the color of new-fallen snow...

Volga promptly pushes that image aside. He needs to focus on the here and now, and his strength is fading, the hero and princess still pressing their attack.

As much as he hates to admit it, Cia’s actions have left him low on strength, and as enjoyable as this fight is... he’s fading. Rather fast.

And suddenly, he finds himself on his knees, a sword pointing at his neck.

Volga looks at Zelda, then over at his son, both of them breathing hard. An odd feeling of pride runs through him as he looks at the boy, and he almost smiles. Only one other person has ever been able to truly best him in battle, and it’s clear both of them learned from her.

Impa taught them well.

...It was no wonder Cia wanted one dead and the other her captive.

Anger courses through him at the reminder of the sorceress’s treachery, but his energy is spent. Too spent for him to reasonably mount a successful attack on her.

His vengeance will have to wait.

The princess opens her mouth to speak, but Volga beats her to it, closing his eyes as blood runs from a cut over one of them. “I accept my defeat with honor. I lose, but I do so without regrets.”

He exhaled and looks up at the two of them, and his son meets his eyes again, blood and dirt smeared on his face.

Volga gives him a singular nod, then despite his weariness, turns into his dragon form and takes off into the skies. He needs to rest, and recover from his wounds before figuring out what to do next.

And... process the ramifications of having a son.

Impa...

Link and Zelda watch him go in silence, Volga’s wings bright as a comet as he glides away. They’re both breathing heavily from the battle, small injuries bleeding, burns stinging. Zelda is smiling though, and there’s a hesitant sort of hope in Link’s eyes as they watch the dragon grow smaller in the distance.

Zelda squeezes Link’s shoulder as Volga finally disappears from their sight, but they don’t have time to dwell on what just occurred.

Cia still needs to be taken care of. But then...

Link supposes they’ll figure it out.

#fic rec

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tenderleavesbob · 1 day

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i have lost control of my life so i drew big brother wars

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tenderleavesbob · 1 day

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This is a LU sequel to this. Thank you for the feedback on the first fic!

When they met again, Mask was now Time and Captain Link was now Warriors. Time was the elder now and the de facto leader of their group. It might have taken Warriors longer to guess who the other man was if Time hadn't taken one look at his short hair and startled. No one else recognized the significance of it. They met in a time outside of Warriors's era, so no one else had the opportunity to see the intricate braids and special hairstyles.

Twilight side-eyed Time for his reaction, but it was soon forgotten as the chain began to talk and move on. No one else commented on it or seemed to notice.

Only Wild had long hair, Warriors noted as they all traveled together. It seemed ironic to him: the one who had the most to grieve had the longest hair of the group. Through casual conversation, Warriors discovered that only his time seemed to have any rituals involving hair-cutting. He supposed it might have fallen out of style after the war. He hoped it had. The feeling of the breeze on his neck proved a constant reminder.

It took three weeks for Time to crack. Warriors gave him credit for that. It seemed like their years apart had taught his wild little gremlin patience.

The other heroes were asleep, or were at least pretending to be asleep, when Time joined Warriors on his watch. Warriors greeted him with a smile and continued sketching in his notebook. Mask had always responded best when Warriors gave him room, and from what Warriors had seen, it would probably work best with Time, too.

Time leaned against his side. It was still odd for his youngest child to be so much bigger than him. If it hadn't been for his hair, that probably would have been the thing which distracted him. Warriors was waiting for the teasing to begin. Warriors had loved carrying around Mask. He had been so small and cute when he wasn't biting and stabbing people.

"Your drawings had improved," Time said, looking at the notebook on Warriors's lap.

Warriors smiled. In so many ways, Time hadn't changed. "Plenty of practice," Warriors said. He didn't trust journaling. He was worried someone else would find it and even putting it in code didn't make him feel safe. Sketching helped him relax and get some of everything in his head out.

Time made a soft noise. He kept leaning against Warriors. It was comforting. He had spent many nights during the war curled up with Mask and Tune. Too often, that was his only comfort during the war.

Warriors waited until his picture was almost done before he asked, "Is something on your mind, old man? You seem like you're lost in thought." He cracked a smile. "Be careful. I'm sure it's a dangerous place."

Time smiled but didn't answer immediately. Warriors didn't expect him to. He focused on finalizing the small details on his picture.

"How long ago was the war for you?" Time asked at last. He almost sounded casual.

Warriors didn't look at him. He added some more detail to the lion's mane. They weren't native to Hyrule, but sometimes he dreamed of a great lion in Hyrule Field. His dreams were silly things and often gave the lion a red scarf similar to his blue one. "Three years. I'm guessing it was longer for you."

Time laughed quietly. "Yes. A little bit."

No clarification. Warriors didn't ask for it. That would only distract them.

More silence. Warriors gave in and started drawing the red scarf. Black in this case. He didn't have a red pencil. He was happy with how the mane looked, so he added the scarf to tangle by the lion's paws.

"You look different," Time said.

"So do you," Warriors returned. He tried to remember the details of the scarf, but he couldn't remember. The lion's front legs were scarred, he suddenly remembered. Around the ankles. Warriors would add that in.

Time was quiet for several minutes. The fire crackled in front of them. Four mumbled in his sleep. It sounded like he was having an argument with himself.

"Your hair is shorter," Time said quietly.

Warriors remembered the moment when he chopped off his braid. After that, whenever his hair would start growing out, his heart sped up and it felt like his ribs were shrinking and crushing his lungs. He started regularly cutting his hair and tossing the shreds into the flames.

"It seemed appropriate," Warriors said. "Do you like it?"

Time went quiet again. Warriors started working on the lion's faded scars. "If you like it," Time said at last. "As long as you're happy."

He sounded too sincere with those words. Warriors paused and stared at the tired, scarred lion on the page with his scarf at his feet. Before the portal had arrived, Queen Zelda had asked him if he planned on letting his hair grow back. Before that, General Impa had been more blunt and told him that he was worthy of his warrior's braid and should grow it back.

"Happy enough," Warriors said at last. For the hell of it, he started drawing flowers by the lion's paws. Nine intricate flowers. Each brushing the lion's paws. "Are you happy, Time?"

He wasn't deflecting. He was genuinely curious. More than that: after all of this, he needed Time to be happy. Needed Mask to be happy.

"Yeah," Time said. He wrapped an arm around Warriors's shoulders and pulled him into a gentle hug, being careful to not mess up Warriors's drawing. "Right now, I'm very happy."

Warriors smiled and added several last details to one of the flowers. Familiar little marks and one scarred petal. Picture done, he rested his head against Time.

When Time shifted Warriors's scarf to better cover the back of his neck, Warriors didn't say a word.

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu time

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tenderleavesbob · 1 day

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I’m hurting myself (hdw au)

“Link, I...”

“Are you ashamed of me?” he asks, hating the way his throat tightens. “Am I just a dirty secret you’re trying to bury?“

Impa looks stricken. “No, no Link listen, it’s complicated—”

His anger boils. “You always say that! You’ve been saying that from day one!” Link snaps, and Impa stiffens. “You explain and explain and explain and yet you never actually tell me what I want to know! Would you just listen to me?”

“Link, please—”

“I just want to know why you didn’t want me!”

Impa stares, and Link looks away from her as tears blur his vision.

The clearing goes quiet.

“I won’t apologize for wanting to understand,” Link says, not allowing his voice to waver, even though it tries its hardest to. “I just want to know. Why I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Impa doesn’t reply, and Link blinks some of the tears from his eyes, still not looking at her.

A soft crunching sound crosses the forest clearing where they stand, footsteps that would be silent apart from all of the leaves coating the ground. They pull to a stop in front of him, but Link still doesn’t look, feeling oddly afraid.

Then Impa takes his chin in her hand and tilts it towards her, meeting his gaze with heartbreak written all over her face.

“Link. The moment I laid eyes on you I knew you were the best thing that had ever happened to me,” she whispers, voice raw. “Giving you up was one of the worst decisions I have ever had to make. I... words are not my strong suit. But I never stopped loving you, Link. I’ve done my best from a distance, but I know it wasn’t enough.”

She breathes out, the sound shuddering.

“And I am so sorry. For not doing more. I was only trying to protect you.”

#fic rec

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tenderleavesbob · 2 days

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I've really neglected my tumblr huh

so anyways heres a bit of an older piece

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tenderleavesbob · 2 days

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It was amazing that someone so beautiful could come from something so ugly.

Link rocked the baby in his arms, unable to look away from his soft, sleeping face. He was so small. Link wasn't a big man, but his hand completely covered the baby's tiny head.

A baby. His son. Link's eyes burned. He held the baby closer and hummed a lullaby his mother used his hum to him so long ago.

Lana watched him, her anxiety and hope clear on her face. Link had been angry at her during the war for keeping her secret for so long and he often felt edgy around her. She made it clear what she wanted from him, but unlike Cia, she had never forced it. It was painful but it was something in her favor. Link had felt uncomfortable and stressed but until today, he had never hated her. The brighter the hope shone in her eyes, the more that pain and rage and hate grew, no matter how much Link wished he could control it.

His son's tiny left hand was empty. Clean. Link rubbed it between his fingers. His thumb covered the back of his son's hand.

"Link," Lana said quietly.

"Does anyone else know?" Link cut off. He didn't want to hear it.

Lana hunched in on herself. Her gaze remained fixed on him. "Volga might know," she admitted. "No one else. She kept it hidden."

It felt hard to breathe. Link just wanted to sit in the corner and curl around the innocent baby in his arms. He wanted to hold him close and block out the world. He wanted to grab his horse and flee with his son.

Further up his son's left arm, just by the armpit, there was a small, heart-shaped mark. It was appropriate. Just looking at it was breaking Link's heart.

"And you," Link said. The threat was clear in his voice. He took no satisfaction when Lana flinched.

"And me," Lana agreed. Her voice wavered before her awful hope rose again. "This baby... He's your son. And Cia's. Which means --"

Link cut her off again. If he didn't, it would be his sword and not his words silencing her. "Which means he can't stay here."

Lana faltered. He knew what she wanted. He knew what she was going to say, and he didn't hate many people but right then, he hated her. "I don't. I don't understand."

Link recognized that birthmark. Years ago, he had washed mud and other things off a squirming, complaining gremlin of a child. He had seen it then. He had seen it when he helped that child change and helped bandage his wounds and when he helped wash him after too many adventures. He had seen it later when that child stood before him as a man, helping bandage his wounds again and again.

He had thought he knew pain. He was wrong.

"He can't stay here," Link said. "If he stays in this era, the truth of his birth will become known, and survivors of the war will hunt him. He'll be hunted by Hylians and Ganondorf's forces alike."

"But --" Lana tried again.

Link tenderly kissed his son's head. How strange that he knew his son first as a child, then an adult, and now a baby. During the war, people had teased them and called them father and son. If only they knew.

"But nothing," Link said quietly. "Open a portal. You know where he must go."

To the Lost Woods centuries in the past. To be raised by the Great Deku Tree.

Link knew his baby would meet him again, but he would never know what Link was to him. He would never know how deeply he was loved.

"If you ever breathe a word about this," Link continued, "I will kill you. No one will ever find your body. No one will ever know what happened to you. Do you understand me?"

The hope was gone from Lana's eyes. Link took no satisfaction from that, either. "I understand."

Link nodded and kissed his son again. How strange that Cia's obsession with the spirit of the hero gave birth to one of the greatest heroes of all.

It was also terribly fitting that the legendary Hero of Time would become a hero in a time not his own.

"I love you, Link," he said softly. "I'll always love you. Good-bye."

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #tw: Cia #hw link #hw Lana #lu time #lu mask

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tenderleavesbob · 2 days

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hi kio love u kio ummm pls ravio and wars being cute pls pls pls bonus points if wars is wearing a dress teehee

Here u go, the them!! Wars + dress + sockies has become so comforting to me??? Just seems cozy 🥰

Warriors (he/she/they) and Ravio (he/him) belong to @ageless-soul-au, pls don't tag any other AUs!

Requests are closed for the time being! Thanks for sending them in, everyone!

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tenderleavesbob · 2 days

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Potions and Hyrule's magic did little against illness. Warriors thought that they helped increase the body's strength to fight against the sickness, but that could just be wishful thinking. He had personally witnessed illness sweep through his army, killing soldiers who had survived the battlefield, just to die on their sickbed. It made him nauseous just to think about it.

The guilt on Hyrule's face tugged at Warrior's heart, and he reached across Legend's sickbed to squeeze his hand. "He'll be all right," he said softly. "He just needs rest. I know hearing your voice is helping him."

Hyrule smiled weakly at him and squeezed Warriors's hand back. Between them, Legend slept restlessly. Sweat beaded his flushed face. Hyrule squeezed Warriors's hand one more time before resuming dabbing at Legend's face with a damp cloth. Warriors leaned back in his chair.

Twilight was with Wild in another room and Time was sleeping in his regular bed. The other heroes were helping Malon with the farmwork. Everyone would recover. Warriors reminded himself that this wasn't the battlefield. Everyone was sick and feverish, but no one's fevers had spiked too terribly and they were keeping water down. Everyone would be fine.

Warriors's heart cracked a little more when Legend moaned. Hyrule bit his lip and kept wiping the sweat away from his face. "You're okay, Leg," Hyrule assured him. "You're at the ranch. Do you remember?"

He sounded hopeful. He usually did.

Legend moaned again and opened his eyes. They looked glazed and far away. He looked at Hyrule but didn't seem to see him.

"Hey," Warriors said gently. He brushed Legend's hair back and pulled the sheet a little higher up Legend's body. "Link. You're all right. You're safe. Just rest. We're here for you."

Legend's gaze fixed onto Warriors's face. Warriors smiled reassuringly at Legend and kept stroking his hair. He hoped Legend didn't remember this when he recovered. He had seen what the young man could do with his ice rod.

"You're okay," Warriors soothed. "Everyone's okay."

Legend blinked at him. He licked his dry lips. Warriors gestured at Hyrule to get him a glass of water. Hyrule started standing up. "...uncle?"

Warriors and Hyrule froze.

Legend's eyes fluttered. His head rolled a little on the pillow. Warriors automatically noted that they would need to change that soon. "Uncle. I had such a bad dream."

Oh. Warriors swallowed. He felt a little dizzy. He hoped he wasn't getting sick, too. "It's okay," Warriors whispered. He stroked Legend's sweaty hair. He gestured again for the glass of water. "It was just a dream. Everything is all right."

Legend's mouth quirked into an odd smile. "Some things aren't just dreams."

Warriors bit his tongue before asking about that. "Don't worry. We're here. We're watching out for you. Drink a little water for me, okay?"

"Okay, Uncle," Legend murmured. Hyrule's eyes were wet when he helped Legend drink. Warriors kept stroking Legend's hair. When Legend was done, he tucked Legend back in.

"Get some sleep," Warriors whispered. "Only good dreams this time, all right? We're right here. We'll watch over you."

Legend's eyes fluttered shut. He still smiled a little. "Good night, Uncle."

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu legend #lu Hyrule

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