Work Text:
The portal closed behind Legend, and he had to sit down for a minute, head in his hands. The ground was damp, the evening’s dew already fallen. The first few stars of the night blinked above the tree canopy, and Legend leaned back against the nearest tree trunk and looked at them. The cold of night was somehow amplified by his brothers’ absence, and he shivered, rubbing his hands against his arms. What he wouldn’t give to be back in the Chain, sitting around the campfire and sharing stories from their adventures.
But that was the point, wasn’t it? And verily, it be the nature of dreams to end.
Legend opened his pouch and pulled out his ocarina. It wasn’t sparklingly blue like Time’s had been, but there was a beauty to its polished surface anyway. He gripped it with practiced fingers and put it to his lips.
The notes flowed from the instrument, dancing through the night. They rose and fell with the music, almost reminiscent of the waves which had brought him to Koholint Island long ago. Legend tried to imagine Marin’s sweet voice accompanying the melody. He didn’t quite succeed.
The Ballad of the Windfish came to an end, and Legend lowered the ocarina as the last note fizzled out. The night looked no different than it had before. Not a dream, then.
That meant he really was home again. His adventure with the Chain was over.
The weight of the realization hit Legend, and he curled in on himself. His brothers were gone. They were really gone, and there was no reason to think he would ever see them again. The goddess had only called them together because it was convenient to her plans in the first place. He knew better than to expect a favor from her.
Legend was the goddess’ chosen hero. Her tool. Her weapon. He was used to hardship, and he always carried on, no matter how bleak the circumstances.
But just for tonight, he could maybe put down the hero’s mantle. Just for tonight, he could sit by himself under the starry sky and cry. Alone like a hero ought to. Alone like he had been before brothers with comforting words and warm smiles. Before the Chain.
“Link!”
Zelda enveloped Legend in a warm hug. Her skirt swirled around them at the sudden motion, and her tiara was knocked slightly askew. Legend gave her a small smile.
“Hi Zelda.”
Zelda’s eyes darted to the empty space behind him.
“Where are your companions?”
“The adventure is over,” Legend answered and tried to ignore the burning feeling in his chest. “So I’m home until the next one.”
Zelda didn’t say that maybe there wouldn’t be a next one. They were both too familiar with the workings of Hylia to truly believe that. Instead, she studied him a little more intently. When they’d been young, they had been the spitting image of each other, but as they grew, so did their differences. They still shared the sharp jawline and fine features, but while Zelda’s hair had remained bright like the morning sun, Legend’s had gotten darker. Zelda’s eyes now held a wisdom beyond her age, and Legend’s held a reservedness. But despite that, there were few people who understood Legend as well as Zelda did. She had been there throughout his adventures. She was one of the few people who knew what Legend had seen. Who knew why Legend was no longer the outgoing and optimistic kid he had once been. One of the few people who didn’t judge him because of it.
“How long will you be staying at the castle?” she asked.
“No more than a few days,” Legend replied.
Zelda’s smile twisted into something bittersweet. She hadn’t expected anything more, but she had hoped.
Legend bolted upright, heart thundering in his chest. The room was dark around him. Only a sliver of moonlight snaked past the curtains. It lit the edge of a neatly organized table and the adjacent chair. He was home. His adventure with the Chain was over.
Hyrule’s shy voice still echoed in Legend’s ears. Ever since Koholint, his dreams had been unnaturally vivid, and this one had been no exception. It was difficult to tell dream apart from reality sometimes. His hands itched for his ocarina.
Legend set his feet on the cold floor and threw a bathrobe around his shoulders. He walked downstairs with a lit candle in one hand and the magical instrument in the other. The kettle boiled on the stove while he played the Ballad of the Windfish.
“Link?” came a soft voice from the stairs. Ravio had wrapped himself in a bathrobe – one of Legend’s, because Ravio firmly believed he was entitled to take anything in the house. His black hair was messy from sleep, and he hadn’t bothered to throw on his usual bunny-hood. He did carry his bunny plushie, though.
“I had another nightmare,” Legend said, because he never lied to Ravio. Especially not when the other man called him Link. He only did that when he was worried.
“About the Chain?” Ravio asked. He walked the last few steps into the kitchen and began riffling through the cupboards for tea and honey and mugs – two of them.
“Yeah,” Legend said. “I was back the day I said goodbye to Rulie.”
Legend had never been good with emotions. Not as a child in the royal castle, but especially not after his many adventures. Shove down your emotions to save Hyrule a few too many times, and it becomes all you know how to do. He was still learning how to be honest with others – and himself – about his feelings.
The Chain deserved a lot of credit for how far he’d come. Ravio deserved the rest.
When the Chain began falling apart, Legend made sure to have a heart-to-heart with Hyrule. He’d told his brother just how proud he was of him, just how much their shared adventure meant to him. It had been a conversation of great difficulty for Legend, but he’d shouldered through it. He owed Hyrule that much.
He hadn’t managed to find the words to say the same to the rest of his brothers. He wasn’t good with words or emotions. And now it was too late.
Sometimes, Legend wondered if his brothers hated him. He was often difficult to be around, snappy, grumpy, and sarcastic. Those last few weeks before the portal took him home had been especially bad. Legend’s grief at Hyrule’s departure had manifested itself as anger. He was ashamed of how often that anger had resulted in him lashing out at the others.
Ravio poured the tea into their cups and dumped a teaspoon of honey in each – a huge one for himself and a slightly smaller one for Legend. He grabbed the mugs, and they settled down on the couch together.
“Tell me about the dream,” Ravio prompted once Legend was securely positioned with a blanket over his shoulders and a steaming cup in his hands.
And Legend did. He told Ravio about Hyrule’s round face and boyish grin, which made him seem much younger than he really was. He talked about Time’s stern voice which was but a cover for his mischievous nature. He talked about Wind’s restless energy, about Four’s clever hands, about Twilight’s accent. He talked about how the Chain had begun breaking apart when Wild was called home by a portal, about how only Warriors, Twilight, and Sky had been left when Legend himself went home. Ravio had heard it all before, but he listened attentively anyway. He asked the right questions and poured more tea when Legend’s cup was empty. And gradually, as the words came more easily, so did the tears.
“I didn’t even say goodbye,” Legend cried a few hours later, when Ravio had brewed their third pot of tea. Ravio wrapped his arms around him. Legend shivered so terribly in his arms.
“I didn’t even tell them how much they meant to me.”
“Maybe they already knew,” Ravio suggested.
“I was always so mean to them. They hate me, I’m sure of it.”
“Link,” Ravio said and caught Legend’s eyes with his. The merchant’s eyebrows were pitched together in a way that somehow made him look both exasperated, amused, and worried.
“They don’t hate you,” he promised. “You may think you have everyone fooled with that attitude of yours, but you wear your heart on your sleeve. They know how much you love them. Trust me.”
“I wish I’d told them,” Legend whispered.
“I know,” Ravio said. “I know.”
The years passed lazily by. Legend had a thousand hobbies and odd jobs. He took up embroidering, then abandoned it. He kept a small garden where he grew various herbs. He dried them and sold them to the local apothecary.
He studied. Magic, medicine, language, art. Legend wanted to know everything.
He collected magic items like a crow collects shiny things, and he hid them around the house in an effort to keep them away from Ravio’s grabby hands. He secretly smiled when they appeared in Ravio’s shop the next day anyway.
A decade of living quietly with Ravio later, and Legend could almost convince himself the next adventure wasn’t luring just around the corner. Fifteen years. Then twenty. He was still being left alone by the goddesses. Legend’s heart started hoping, despite his mind’s warnings against such foolishness.
The dreams got better, too. They still seemed real, and he still kept the ocarina within reach on his bed table. The Ballad of the Windfish was pure muscle memory at this point, flowing freely from the instrument whenever he put it to his lips.
But Legend played other songs, too, sometimes accompanied by Ravio’s flute. Their kitchen was stocked with tea and honey for whenever he needed it.
Legend missed his brothers, of course. The oddest things could remind him of them. Autumn leaves falling from their trees reminded him of Wild. A scarf at the market reminded him of Warriors. Ravio’s awful attempt at scrambled eggs reminded him of Hyrule.
Sometimes, he wondered how they were doing. Warriors had been in pretty bad shape last time he saw him. He hoped the captain had gotten help since then. Maybe Time and Malon had kids now. Hyrule might have settled down somewhere. Maybe he had even learnt how to cook.
Legend smiled. It was impossible to know what his brothers were up to these days, but he hoped they were doing well. Legend was certainly happier than he could ever have imagined when he parted ways with them. And if he could turn out alright after everything he’d been through, then there was hope for his brothers, too. For anyone, really.
Life was such a strange thing, Legend thought. It had a way of growing around misery and grief. There was always more left to do and say and feel. There was always more happiness to be found, if one knew where to look for it. And Legend was lucky enough to have had eight brothers to guide him in the right direction. As well as a well-meaning thief and excellent friend to share that happiness with.
Outside, the stars blinked like they had that first night after he’d gone home. Legend sipped from the cup of tea in his hands and smiled.