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You know, Link’s seen some pretty weird things in his life, as it is.
Talking boats that turn out to be ancient ghost kings, for one. A giant tree that claims to be older than the Great Sea Herself, an actual Ghost Ship, swords that can exert control over time itself…
Bellum! Bellum definitely counts as weird. All those eyes, yeeeuk.
Link has seen some shit, is what he’s trying to say here. He’s figured some stuff out, discovered a suspiciously reoccurring set of patterns that keep showing up hand-in-hand with just about every single problem he's found himself dealing with throughout his life so far, and, accordingly, has long since armed himself with a nice few tried-and-true methods to run on down through whenever he comes across the newest weird thing in his life. They have yet to fail him.
(These methods run through numbers 1 (Look at it Very Closely) to 20 (If you see a giant eye at any point, START STABBING), and Link will swear by them to anyone who asks. Including those people who grab him by the shoulders, take very deep breaths, and then demand to know “ What the ACTUAL FUCK were you thinking, Link?!”
Look, it’s totally reasonable to try blowing up the general area just to make sure nothing will happen. Or any suspicious walls, in case something’s hiding behind there. Or even just the ground, if you find yourself in a dead end.
Link doesn’t get why people always start screaming when he does that. It’s just some bombs, what’s the big deal?)
That being said, there’s a first time for everything.
And this thing, so far, is leaving him stumped.
Link props his hands on his hips, and scowls at the swirling mass of darkness, cheekily hanging, perfectly suspended, right in the middle of the sea.
It’s like it’s taunting him.
The waves below occasionally rise up just high enough to lick up at the very bottom of it. This does nothing to distort or change or even interrupt the ceaseless swirl- like a dark whirlpool hovering in the air, hemmed in by hard edges, almost like a mirror’s frame.
There are no giant eyes present, which is both a relief, aaaand kinda disappointing! Link is great at fighting things with giant eyes. If this thing had a giant eye on it, Link would have known exactly what to do (see method #20 on his list for details), and as long as it wasn’t more than four or five eyes, then he would have probably already been done with this by now.
… Probably. Depends on if it also would have other limbs beyond just those eyes. Like, say, tentacles.
As it is, Link’s been here long enough for the sun to sink another finger’s width in the sky, and he’s run through almost all of his list to no avail. His boat rocks under his feet as he contemplates the problem.
Swords, bombs, and arrows did nothing. His cannon, similarly, failed to so much as interrupt the swirling of the void. The dark hole in the air resolutely failed to move in any way to the gusting winds of his Deku Leaf and conjured storm via the Wind Waker’s call alike. Looking at it Very Closely failed to reveal any secrets.
Hrrrmmmmm.
Link should really be sailing off to the closest island to set up for the night. He really should. It’s getting late, and he’s still got a ways to go until he makes land, and he really doesn’t like dealing with the monsters that pop up in these particular waters at night. The Ghost Ship passes through here sometimes; Link’s pretty sure the reason why this particular place on the chart gets hinky sometimes is because of it, and he just really doesn’t like the Ghost Ship, okay, ghosts suck and Link has had enough of dealing with weird ghost shit and he can go the rest of his life without running into that thing again quite happily, thank-you-very-much-
…
-uh. Anyway.
Link really should be wrapping things up. But he doesn’t just want to leave… whatever this is, floating in the air like this, yeah? Like, he’s not sure what the deal is with it, but he can’t just sail away from it. Something bad could happen!
Then again, if he can’t figure this out, he’s not exactly going to have a choice.
The seagulls high above cry out as a pair of them careen over his head, one of them clearly holding something in its beak, and the other one just as clearly doing its best to chase down the other and steal it.
The weird dark thing continues to silently, placidly, swirl in place.
Annoying! Just let yourself be figured out already, would you?!
Link huffs, sticks out his tongue at it, and plops down to take a seat and start rummaging through his bait bag.
He does still have one last thing to try, after all.
Good thing he caught up with Beedle before he sailed off this morning, yeah?
Controlling a gull- being a gull- is something that Link never realized was something to think twice about until he left Outset and made the mistake of casually talking about doing so in front of other people.
Reactions ranged from assuming he was playing some kind of game of pretend- insulting! Did Link look like he had time to be playing games?? Aryll had needed him, he didn’t have time for that- to just blank confusion.
Apparently, most people- as in, everyone but him, Aryll, and Grandma, actually- can’t use Hyoi Pears to hitch a ride in a seagull’s mind. Which Link thinks is weird, because why not?
He tried asking Grandma- back after Aryll was safely brought home and before Link had to sail off again. She had hemmed and hawed in a way that made the part of Link’s mind that screeched warnings at him seconds before a monster leapt out in ambush light up and start ringing the storm bells. Then she had told him that it was a family thing. And then she had said she’d tell him more when he was older.
How much older, Link had asked.
Let’s go with sixteen, Grandma had said. Then hesitated, twisted her mouth to the side, and amended to perhaps eighteen. We’ll see.
Consider Link suspicious, and also suddenly much more wary of pulling out his old standby of ‘if nothing makes sense, pull out a pear and try tossing a seagull at it’.
That being said, it’s not like he’s stopped.
There really is a surprising number of problems that have ‘gull’ as the solution. Enough that he goes out of his way, whenever possible, to have at least a few pears on him, at all times.
So it’s with the ease of long practice that Link sits himself down, right on the deck, a good length of rope around his waist- you only gotta fall in the sea once to learn that lesson- and balances the pear on top of his head.
And high up above, a gull’s eye sets a lock on its target.
The great thing about doing this is that the gull’s instincts, the gull’s knowledge, it’s all still present inside their mostly-empty, shrieking little skulls.
Link wasn’t so great at listening to those instincts when he was younger, but he’s got it down, now. A master, he’d say! There’s no switch he can’t hit, no ring he can’t fly to, no height he can’t reach!
… Still, it’s good to practice, and all, which is totally why Link makes sure to fly some practice loops. Just to learn these particular wings, you know.
(It has nothing to do with how much fun it is to fly around catching air currents and diving super super fast. Really.
It’s just because he’s good, and it’s good practice to stay in practice. Alright? Alright.)
Link banks sharply, bringing himself wheeling slowly downwards, his boat and the portal down below getting closer bit by bit.
Okay.
Time to do this.
A deep breath before a plunge isn’t really a gull thing. Link does it regardless.
And then he dives.
Tip down and flap and level right out and forwards, diving through the seething dark as it warps and churns around him-
And that’s where things go wrong.
Because it’s still dark, and one heartbeat, two, three and now Link’s been flying through this thing for a lot longer than really makes any sense, considering that was maybe six inches of darkness max, and he should have been through that in two seconds, easy. But this is on maybe- ten? Fifteen? Aaaaand it’s still going, and Link is starting to feel wavery and pulled-thin and maybe. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, and he’s about to try turning back when-
-the darkness breaks-
-light floods his eyes, blindingly bright and overwhelming-
-and he goes beak-first into something solid and absolutely unyielding, the recoil crashing into his body with a shock that rocks down to his bones.
A flat, unyielding surface comes out of nowhere, the impact catching on the joint of his shoulder, and the force of it feels like being flung to the sea from the tower of the Forsaken Fortress all over again, tumbling and rolling dizzily for what feels like an eternity before finally coming to a halt, flopped out on the ground and panting.
Link…
… takes the moment to just reel for a moment, eyes closed, and tries to ignore the way the world feels like it’s spinning underneath him.
Uuuugh.
Ow. Ow. Ow.
Okay.
So.
Gull was not the solution to this puzzle.
Good to know, Link guesses.
Would be better if the world would stop spinning. Link knows he’s not moving, that the ground is still and solid beneath him, but it’s like a little whirlpool formed beneath him while he was riding with the gull, catching his boat in an endless, slow turning in the middle of the sea, with him here stuck, feathers crumpled uncomfortably against his side-
…Wait.
It took about fifteen seconds total after his unceremonious exit from the dark hole in the air for Link to realize that he was not, in fact, back in his own body, but still in the gull whose body he borrowed in the name of investigation.
It took five seconds of trying and failing to send himself back to his body to discover that he was, for some reason, unable to go back, no matter how strongly he willed himself to do so.
And then, that.
That is when the panic hit.
He can’t go back.
He can’t go back.
Why can’t he go back?!
Wings are not made for frantically trying to pat yourself down as you try to release your grip on a gull’s mind and go back to your actual body.
They are made for flailing and flapping wildly about in a panic, though, and Link does an admirable job of just that for one not actually born a gull, if he may say so himself.
In fact, Link’s so busy with that, he doesn’t even track the faint sound of voices coming rapidly closer as something notable in the slightest, up until there’s a loud voice, calling from close by, a surprised noise-
“It’s a gull!”
Ohshit.
Oh shit.
Link’s a gull.
Link’s a gull and there’s people here and oh no oh no oh no bird bones are fragile and some people really, really don’t like gulls-
FLY AWAY, his brain sums up all his racing thoughts all at once.
GOOD IDEA, Link’s body agrees, and tries to do so immediately.
Nah, let’s not, goes his wings, so caught up between Link’s attempts at manifesting arms and their actual current form that, instead of flying away as fast as the wind can carry him, he just ends up sort of flopping around on the ground, ultimately ending in him going face-first into the dirt.
Ack.
And there’s a thump-thump-thump-thump-
Hands close around him- huge hands, pinning his wings to his side, and he tries to twist and bite-peck them as hard as he can but the hands shift and he can’t angle his head any more oh this is bad oh no no oh no-
“Easy, easy-”
-and he can’t help but shrink for a moment because the voice that speaks is loud and big and he’s so small right now, he’s so crushable and he already didn’t snap back into his own head when he hit the ground what will happen if this person tries to squeeze-
A face comes into view. Huge, massive, looming overhead-
“Easy now.”
-and gently, a finger ruffles right between his wings.
… What?
“It’s a young one,” oh there’s a second one that’s just great-
“How do you know?” A third?! He tries to flail out his wings again, but they’re thoroughly trapped, caged in by giant hands, with something hard and cool on them, pressing against-
-wait. Is that metal- rings?
Is every spot he’s feeling that on his ( tiny crushable oh Great Mother he’s never using a pear again he swears) body a ring? Because if so, damn.
Link’s met pirates that don’t wear as many rings as this guy. Are they gold? Do they have gems on them? He bets there’s gems.
He wants to see. He tries to crane his head to look, but the angle’s all weird-
“-juvenile plumage.” says the first voice, and oh. Link kind of forgot about the giants holding him captive.
Oops.
Well. They haven’t killed him yet? At least??
“I don’t think it likes you holding it like that,” notes voice three- and Link tracks it back to the speaker this time, managing to angle his head to side-eye up someone wearing the gaudiest tunic he’s seen in his life, ever.
Gold embroidery, four separate colors pieced together, bright and flashy, and Link has never wanted to own a piece of clothing so much in his life.
Tetra would catapult him right off her ship on sight if he wore that where she could see it. He can hear her overblown disgust even now.
He has to get his hands on it. Or something like it. At all costs.
“Gulls don’t like anything but food and trouble,” so says voice one, as dry as the air up on Dragonroost, and that’s the one holding him, so Link has to half-break his neck to try and get a good look at his captor-
Even more gold.
Wait, no, stop looking at the gold, look at the person. Aigh. Did turning into a gull give him the same brain, or something? Link likes gold, sure, but no so much that he wants to put it in his mouth-
-Okay, yeah, put like that, he’s absolutely being affected by seagull brain. Lovely.
“We’re so far from the sea, though.” Wait, that’s voice two. Around goes the head- we have lots of blue, Link approves of the color choice there- very long blond hair, and by the depths below that is some badass scarring.
He’s a bird. Link can get away with some rude staring. The guy looks like he got caught in the sort of horrible mess that comes from cannon accidents and somehow didn’t die from it. Wow.
… Hang on.
What was that about the sea?
Half-mangled-but-still-kickin’ (Link wants to hear that tavern story so bad) is frowning at him, confusion lining his face. “How did it even get here? It’s over a week to get to the nearest coast, and I’ve never seen one further than a few hours of travel out from the shoreline.”
“I mean…” Colorful tunic says thoughtfully. “There is a portal. Right there.”
“... Can wildlife use the portals?”
“Well, Epona can, so-”
“Uh. That could be a problem? Yeah, that could be a problem.”
“... Do I want to know why.”
“Do you want to think about what would happen if a bunch of wildlife gets shifted from its normal living spots and dumped in places far away from their natural habitats? Like, say, a bear from the mountains, being left to figure out life in the desert? Or ten minute’s travel out from a town?”
“No. No, I do not. And now I will, thanks.”
“Look, you asked.”
… This is a mess.
Back to the sea! Go back to that thing about the sea! Because that sounds kind of important!
There’s nowhere in the Great Sea that has enough land to require a whole week of travel to get to the nearest coast. There just isn’t.
And that… Link really doesn’t like what that implies about how far he is from home, right now.
And because of course, nobody’s paying that any heed, instead freaking out about…
“Aw, no, how do we get it home?”
“Maybe- if it came from the portal, do we just chuck it back through-?”
“We can’t do that!” snaps the one holding him again. “The portals don’t even reliably lead to the same place each time, and there’s the monsters- do you want to feed the monsters? Because that’s what’s going to happen.”
“Hang on. It was flapping around pretty weird- was it hurt?”
Three sets of eyes land on him for an intense, soul-searching moment.
Link does his best to return the sentiment.
“Hey, TWILIGHT!”
“Nah, I think he’s okay,” Twilight, a behemoth with something giant and fluffy puffing out around his shoulders and wearing golden chainmail (Do not try to peck it do not try to peck it it’s shiny but it’s not food-) says, finally stopping it with the manhandling, thank the Great Mother. “A little disoriented, maybe? Might have hit a tree or something coming out, but nothing seems broken.”
“Birds are pretty fragile, though,” Wild, the name of walking-example-of-why-cannon-safety-is-important- Link has some questions about these people’s apparent names, because wow, they sound so fake- says, clearly dubious, looking down at Link with naked concern.
“If he hit a tree, it could have really hurt him,” Legend- again, Link has questions- says. His fingers are drumming restlessly against his leg, flashing light off of all those shiny, shiny rings. “You’re sure everything’s fine?”
“We could give him to Sky,” Four (who is not visibly four of anything in any particular way, unless you count the colors of his tunic) contributes.
“Sky still calls any bird smaller than a pony a ‘tiny bird’ and thinks cuccos are harmless. Sky knows shit about birds.”
“Okay, that’s not fair, he’s got to at least know something about what to do for injury for ‘em considering he’s said that his people fly loftwings into combat-”
“Who’s to say loftwings are even actual birds. None of us have seen them yet!”
“I mean, those woodcarvings he makes look bird-like to me-”
Link’s feeling pretty talked over at the moment, and he’s not exactly enjoying the feeling. That in mind, he opens his mouth, and-
What he means to voice is a strenuous complaint at this state of affairs, summed up in a simple, yet versatile ‘ OI!’
What comes out is a loud, shrill, “SQUAK!”
Hands and shoulders shoot up to ears, the shrill sound of a seagull cry piercing enough even without being only a few feet from the gull in question. Guess how Link knows that. Go on, guess.
(Being Aryll’s big brother comes along with a number of trials. And hearing loss. Link will swear before every drowned god of old Hyrule that his left ear’s never been the same after she decided to give him a wake-up call with a feathered twist.)
“Oh, the old man’s going to like that,” mutters Four, dropping his hands from his ears.
Old man?
“Old man doesn’t haveta know,” retorts Legend and heY-!
The world swoops dizzyingly around him as Link finds himself snatched up by those beringed-hands and- now he’s being held- cuddled, more like- against Legend’s heavily-embroidered tunic.
Now, it’s not like Link would say he’s prone to biting. He’s only bit three people so far in all his life, after all, and all three of them deserved it.
That being said, he doesn’t think he can be blamed for giving in to the instinctive urge to peck at those snatching fingers as hard as he can.
NOT because that was scary! It wasn’t! But because it’s rude to snatch people like that, you jerk!
But alas. Link is but a scant handful of feathers and righteous rage, and this guy has hands that… don’t actually have a single weak spot on them, between rings, calluses, and scars taking up pretty much all possible soft vulnerabilities on his fingers.
Damn.
“-Can’t hide an entire seagull from them,” oh right there’s still an argument going on over top of his head. Link keeps getting distracted. Aigh, this is getting annoying! “Have you ever spent more than twenty minutes around a gull? They’re loud.”
“Ain’t neither of them the boss of me,” Legend’s voice vibrates through Link’s entire body where he’s stuck crammed up against his chest and oh boy how about that reminder of how crushable Link is right now! “And yes, actually, and they’re not that bad.”
From this angle, Link can see Twilight and Wild exchanging looks, then Wild shrugging, falling back to recline on his elbows on the grass, while Twilight shakes his head and moves to lean back on one hand.
“You know what, you have fun with that,” comes the dry response from Twilight. “Better hope you’re more persuasive than you were about that inn, though, or it’s not going to go well for you.”
A sniff. “I can take the Old Man, you’re just a bunch of cowards.”
It’s like he unleashes a pack of miniblins on a busy dock. The uproar is immediate.
“Oh, them’s fightin’ words-”
“Yeah, okay, I want to see that-”
“Fifty rupees say he can kick your ass up one side of the river and down the other-”
“Fifty? Try two-hundred-”
Link is so confused.
What even is happening? Where is this place? Who are these people, and what are they doing, and why are they even fussing over a random seagull like this, anyway?
And who, by Cyclos’s bedamned storms, is this ‘Old Man’?!
… Link regrets wondering.
Link, at this point, to be completely honest, regrets everything.
Because- and he says this with all due skepticism, incredulity, and full-voiced, shrieking demands-upon-the-heavens all at once…
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT’S THE HERO OF TIME??
So.
Heroes.
Like, straight-out-of-the-legends Actual Heroes.
Link’s feeling some things right now. Link’s feeling a lot of things right now, actually.
Link thought he had seen some weird shit. He thought he’d gone through some weird shit. He thought that he’d topped out on both, and so would never be unprepared or completely blindsided by weird shit ever again.
APPARENTLY NOT.
Because right now, Link is stuck in the body of a damned seagull, and he’s being cooed at by a bunch of actual Heroes, you know, like, from the old legends, who found him floundering around because he was stuck in the body of a seagull, and this is it. This surely has to be it. His life has finally topped out on weird shit, for real this time.
Because right there, leaning against a stone, halfway through pulling off a piece of (very shiny!! HEY NO BAD BRAIN-) plate armor while making a sorta-laugh-y but like in a quiet inside way sort of face at another guy who’s got a lot of rich silky blue draped over his shoulders and a hand pinching the bridge of his nose in clear exasperation-
That is the Hero of Time.
That is the actual Hero of Time.
(Ganondorf drowned howling his name, and this is the face that ancient king was imposing over Link’s own, through battle and bleeding.
He’s not wearing even a single scrap of green.)
“We really shouldn’t be keeping pets like this,” Sir Scarfy, apparently he of the lofty name of ‘Warriors’ (which, can Link just say- what the fuck?) grumbles good-naturedly as he passes with a pointed look down, still harping on about the earlier argument- about Link, actually, in which the Old Man, in a wildly surprising move had actually fallen down on the side of keep the seagull instead of wringing its neck.
Obviously, Link is now a fan of the Old Man. For more than one reason, and one of those reasons being why he’s currently perhaps just maybe freaking out a bit.
Because, as mentioned- because he really can’t emphasize it enough- the ‘Old Man’! Is! THE HERO OF TIME. The Actual Hero of Time is currently going by Time, is being called ‘Old Man’ by a bunch of other people who are apparently also legendary storybook-type heroes, and Link. Link is.
Link is being a very quiet and well-behaved gull, apparently to the point of concern, because Twilight, a new ‘Sky’ person, and Legend have all been fussing over him for ages now, trying to get him to eat and drink more and they keep feeling up his wings and back for injury and Link would fuss about this but he’s occupied and thinking and maybe fretting just a little because he has been wondering and-
-and, well, he’s just wondering if maybe, but not too much, of course, it’s just a thought, one it’s perhaps unwise to even say, but he’s just pondering it, you understand-
…
…
Fuck it.
Is he dead? Is Link fucking dead? Is that what the deal is? Is that why he’s here, in the body of a gods-damned gull, staring at the Actual Hero of Time Himself, in the flesh (or maybe not-flesh?? If he’s actually- uh, a spirit?? ghost?? Possibly???), who’s been wandering around and laughing and talking and is rapidly coming closer oh whoa okAY-
“Everything all right here?” Is the first thing The Actual Hero of Time says directly to Link.
Well. In his direction. Eyeing up Link in his makeshift nest of bunched-up fabric here, extending a hand for him like he’s expected to- what, sniff it? Like a dog or something? Seagulls can’t do that! Link’s not gonna do that, even if he was a dog! Not even for the Hero of Time!
… Okay, maybe he would for the Hero of Time. For a good reason.
If he was asked to.
Maybe.
Whatever. Whatever!
“He’s really quiet,” so comes the fretting from over his head. Link cranes his head to look up at the body beside him- Legend, twisting a ring around his finger ceaselessly, the silver catching the light so hypnotically…
AUGH NOT AGAIN. Stop looking at the rings! Stooooop!
“He’s breathing fine, doesn’t seem shocky at all,” Sky (he of the so-called dubious bird knowledge) offers, and Link gladly takes the distraction to eye him up instead. Sky somehow manages to take notice, even though he’s smiling at Legend, all soft dimples and a kind of knowing sympathy- about what, though, Link’s coming up with empty nets.
A finger ruffles the top of his head gently. “A little stressed, maybe, but I don’t think he’s in danger, Legend, honest. I wouldn’t be surprised if he perks right back up as soon as the sun rises tomorrow.”
“Didn’t think to see you fussing over a bird, of all things,” Twilight drawls out, passing by, offering up something in his hand to Time. Time hums a wordless thanks as he accepts it and tucks it away in a little bag hanging off his belt before Link can see what it is. “That’s your soft spot then, huh?”
“I like gulls,” Legend bites off, words so brittle you could crack them like a stick.
…Huh.
Well, that’s accepted without question, Twilight giving an easy shrug as he moves closer to the fire, Sky giving one last smile and pat to Legend’s shoulder before he heaves himself up with a long, drawn-out old man kind of groan, ambling after.
Leaving Link here, trapped between two people having a stare-off.
Oh, joy.
Then a finger scratches lightly at the top of his head and oh actually yes joy for real that feels good-
But treachery! It was merely a distraction, for a scant second later he’s scooped up again, lifted in the air and as he feels himself tip off what his brain insists is his center of balance he goes to flail out his wings to correct, but they’re trapped by giant hands, again-
-Oh there’s a face. That’s a face.
Those bright cuts of color across Time’s cheek are vivid enough Link thought they’d been actual cuts at first. Link’s not one to be put off by tattoos, especially not ones as tame as these- sailors get some weird stuff sometimes, okay- but there’s something about those red slashes that makes something in his hindbrain twitch for a sword he’s not carrying, nor currently has the hands to hold.
For some reason, the eye with the scar through it gives him that feeling too, but worse. Which, again! Link has seen way more gruesome scars than that!
Also, this is the Hero of Time. There’s no reason for his brain to be insisting that this is a Giant Eye that Needs a Stabbing.
(… Unless?
No. Surely not.
… Unless??)
“Well, he’s tame enough already,” Time hums, and Link is prevented from bristling- tame? tame?!- by a finger petting his ruffling feathers down before they can fluff all the way up.
A huff. “Don’t know why you agreed to let us take him along, but… thanks,” the last almost inaudible, it was muttered so quietly. Link swings his head around to look-
A-yup, Legend’s scowling off into the woods, refusing to make eye-contact.
You, sir, are predictable .
And this is coming from Link, who has only been here for maybe two hours. Tops.
Time makes a surprisingly soft noise of good humor- a little breathy half-huff more than anything else, and Link’s attention is caught once again by that flash of red on his face as he’s lowered back down into his makeshift nest.
(... Seriously, those things are uncannily like open wounds. But they’re just red lines?? Did Time do that on purpose when he got them? Link wants to know.)
“Birds don’t take up much space, and this little one less than most-”
Hey!
“Yes, you,” Time says, directly down at Link, eye crinkling in a smile, and ruffling his feathers with a finger again before Link can get his next squawk of protest out, addressing Legend over his head.
“I think between the eight of us we can manage to keep an eye on one young gull until he’s well enough to return to the coast.”
“I mean, it’s a gull,” Legend points out, eyebrow up, and oi! Which side are you even on?? Link might not be exactly happy about these circumstances- find someone who actually wants to be stuck as a gull in front of a group of literal legendary figure(s), he dares you- but safety in numbers! Do you know how many things like to eat gulls?!
“Well, in a pinch, I’m sure Wild knows a good seagull recipe,” comes the dry reply, and SEE, THIS IS WHAT LINK WAS TALKING ABOUT-
A scandalized gasp, and a set of hands cup over him almost immediately, a dark, protective shield. “Absolutely not,” snaps out Legend’s voice, and surprise! Link has a new favorite hero, he no longer wants stories of the Hero of Time after this horrendous betrayal, this Legend guy’s all he’s going to ask about now just watch him-
There’s enough of a gap between Legend’s fingers for Link to see Time raise his hands in surrender. “Just a joke.”
“A bad one,” Legend grumbles, not removing the cover of his hands. If he had, however, the two of them would have been able to behold the rapid bobbing of Link’s head as he nods furiously in agreement.
Awful joke! Absolutely horrible!
Nobody’d be joking about such a thing if he’d just been a person when he came through that portal-
-oh. They really wouldn’t be, if he’d…
…
Even later, as the camp settles into sleep, Link alone left awake, cradled in his rag-nest, which was cradled in turn by the protective curve of Legend’s arm and body, he dwells on that thought. Stuck on it, worrying it like a loose tooth.
So. Here’s the thing.
On the one hand: Link is currently a seagull. In a way, this isn’t entirely a horrible thing. For one thing, he seems to have been adopted by a… roaming band of heroes? Which he’s not entirely sure would have happened if Link had gone stumbling out the portal all, uh. You know. Visibly fully armed. And stuff.
(The Phantom Sword really makes people think twice about whatever impression they first got on seeing Link’s face, is what he’s saying here, alright. Apparently it’s ‘uncanny’ or something like that.
… Which, you know? Fair enough.)
On the other hand: Link is still currently stuck as a seagull.
He’s safe, for now, yes. But he’s safe as a bird. He’s safe in a way that means he can’t talk, can’t fight, can’t even trust his own mind to stay on task for long- too easily distracted. He doesn’t have hands. He doesn’t know where he is, or how far away home might be, or even where the sea is.
(Also, this might or might not be the afterlife. Council’s still debating on that one.)
Link’s not in a bad situation. But it’s still not a good one.
It’s not one he’s content to leave as it is.
He’s gotta figure out how to break this. Somehow.
He’s gotten through worse problems and puzzles before, right? He’s figured them all out, every time, no matter how long it took. Nothing’s managed to stop him, once he’s really put his mind to something.
(The Tower of the Gods yielded to him. The shattered Triforce came together under his hands.
The Master Sword wicked alight deep in the temples’ depths, and it glowed like a fire against his palms even as he drove it home into-)
Yeah.
He’s got this.
He’s absolutely got this.
Link has not got this.
“Oh, you’re so small,” Sky coos, and while Link would complain because excuse you, the way Sky’s fingers are gently scratching through his neck feathers is just hrrrnghhh…
“Tiniest seagull I’ve ever seen,” Wild agrees, crouching by the fire, a bit muffled through the scorched fingertip he’s holding in his mouth.
Shaking off just enough of the pleasant daze of good scritchies to open his beak, Link’s reply transcends language barriers.
Four, knife in hand and pile of chopped vegetables in his lap, jumps halfway out of his skin, which sends three pieces of carrot falling to lay sadly on the ground.
Wild, despite the reflexive cringe at the loud noise, is laughing. “Didn’t like that, did you?”
I will steal your earrings while you sleep, Link promises, still pleasantly half-dozing.
Four sounds like he’s choking a little over there. Should someone check on him or something?
“Aw, I don’t know,” Sky’s fingers are magic. Link suspects a Great Fairy enchantment. “I think he just likes making us jump. Zelda’s loftwing’s a menace in that regard. Likes to sneak up behind people and scream in their ear. I swear every time she scares another person off the edge she actually laughs.”
Ehhhh. Link’s heard quite a bit about loftwings in the past few days, and this does nothing to endear the concept of giant birds that people ride around on, like- like boats, any more to him.
Bad enough they’re big enough to grab a person. Now there’s a murderbird hunting in the sky?
Birds are horrible. Link says that with full awareness as to his current physical form.
“You know, a Rito did something like that to me once,” Wild’s saying, all reminiscent in tone, scraping Four’s pile of veggies into the pan with a hiss as they hit the hot metal. “Pretty sure it was on purpose. Like, he caught me before I fell too far, but he also tried to dump me on my face and strutted around afterwards talking about how great and benevolent he was, so.”
“Oh really?” Sky says, all avid interest. “You’re close friends, then?”
A pause.
“It would have absolutely annoyed the shit out of him to hear it,” Wild says slowly, “so yes. Yes, I would absolutely consider him a friend.”
“... Annoy…?” Sky has stopped petting in favor of looking slightly bemused. Link starts coming out of that sleepy haze with the same reluctance he feels when being screeched awake from a particularly blissful nap.
Magic hands. Sky has them, he swears.
“Oh, yeah, he hated me,” Wild says, with entirely too much cheer. The spoon scrapes up against the pot as he stirs. “I think he wanted the sword, or something? No idea what his deal was. He didn’t write it down in his journal or anything, so I guess I’ll never know.”
“... I think you need better friends, Champion.”
“You think?”
These people are a riot. Link’s made no progress on getting back to his own body, sure, but at least he’s been constantly entertained the whole time he’s been here.
“Get back here with that!”
No, it’s mine now!
Wind pushes under Link’s wings as Twilight’s grabbing hands go whistling by, and he wobbles in the air for a moment before correcting, all without opening his beak and thus dropping his precious cargo.
Twilight curses from somewhere behind him, almost drowned out by the laughter coming from the sidelines, and Link decides that means it’s time to swerve and-
Blue silk meets his webbed feet, and Link immediately dives into the pile of it. He also immediately gets tangled beak-first in a particularly inescapable part, and, accordingly, realizes that this was probably not a smart idea.
Oops?
Light comes to free him from his dark confines as the edge of the scarf is flipped back by a set of fingers, and Link’s head pops up, the two rings of chainmail links he stole off of Twilight’s golden armor firmly, triumphantly held within his beak.
Warriors is still laughing, even as he folds the problem part of his scarf off to the side.
Twilight, hands on hips and standing about four steps away scowls in clear exasperation, former lost, distant, almost haunted expression nowhere to be seen. The golden light of the setting sun behind him made his hair look blonder than it really was- gave him almost a sunset-colored glow, warmed the shadows clinging to his skin.
“Give them back,” Twilight demands, hand coming forth.
Hahaha.
No.
“How did he even get them off?” Warriors asks through his laughter, doing absolutely nothing to stop Link from burrowing deeper in his scarf to hide.
“I don’t know!” The heavy sound of Twilight’s steps coming closer vibrated through Link’s ribcage. Silk started rustling above him- Link immediately ruffled out and hunkered down lower as the movement twitched against his wings. “I swear I didn’t even see him do it, didn’t even realize he was there until he landed on my damn knee- AHA!”
Link’s squawk is muffled around the deathgrip he has on his rings, and his legs paddle wildly as he’s swooped into the air, suddenly held up and squinted at by a set of gray eyes.
The inky, dark slashes of Twilight’s tattoos add a layer of menace to his stare. Link’s not nervous about it. Of course not! That’d be silly! Twilight loves birds. Great at fixing problems with twisted feathers. Excellent at spotting things that might want to eat a peaceful, harmless little seagull and driving it off before Link has to figure out how to escape becoming lunch.
Yeah. Twilight’s great.
So there’s no reason whatsoever for his bird brain to be insisting he’s being stared down by a predator right now. Phantom sensation of teeth pricking at his wings, who?
“Wild’s right,” Twilight informs him. “Menace is a good name for you.”
Feeling of being stared down by a predator immediately forgotten. Indignation takes its place.
Hey! Rude!
Warriors snorts, busily rearranging his scarf back around his neck as he steps up beside Twilight to peer up at Link too.
Link preemptively clamps his beak down harder on his hard-won prizes.
Try it, if’n y’ be feelin’ bold, landlubbers-
“Even odds Legend strangles you and Wild if his pet bird starts answering to that name,” Warriors leans a casual elbow onto Twilight’s shoulder as an armrest, which didn’t really work due to how close in height they were, but Link appreciates as a move that was clearly intended to invoke annoyance from the prop in question.
He does the same thing to Aryll all the time, and she hates it. Tried to club him in the stomach with her new spyglass, last time he did it.
Link’s so proud of her.
“It’s a better name than ‘emergency rations.’ I swore he was about to break out the fire rod on you and Time both there for a second.”
“... A hot second, would you say?”
Silence.
The corner of Warrior’s mouth slowly starts to curl smugly upwards, as Twilight stares straight ahead, expression utterly dead.
Then, very, very calmly, Twilight bends forwards, freeing himself from Warriors’ elbow, and sets Link, stolen chainmail rings and all, gently down onto the log Warriors had been leaning on.
Ah.
There was to be violence, then.
And true enough, the moment Link was secure, Twilight turned on his heel sharply, pure promise held in the set of his shoulders, coiled up like a cat about to pounce-
-and Warriors, apparently having well anticipated this, books it.
Well settled, treasures in- well, not in hand, but in beak- Link enjoys being in the position of watching someone else get chased around the camp, leaping over vacant bedrolls and strewn bags, yelling and laughter no doubt soon to draw the others back out from their wanderings into camp to see what’s going on.
“Come on, Twilight, don’t be so hotheaded-”
Warriors, clearly gleeful at having elicited such a reaction, was doing his best to throw more fuel on the fire, all but cackling and dancing around Twilight’s rushing lunges and grabs, sometimes just barely.
“No, no, we’re not doing this again, I hear enough of this shit from Wild, don’t you dare-” Twilight was threatening right back, even as a grin kept trying to fight its way onto his face. Clearly a futile effort- and one he gave up on trying to enforce right around the time he succeeded at tackling Warriors into the dirt, and oop.
There they go.
Guess it’s time to wrestle- and it’s absolutely obvious, in mere seconds, that Warriors is at a clear disadvantage here.
Twilight has him yelping for mercy, a wide, fierce grin of triumph across his face as Warriors squirms futilely in his arms, in under a minute.
Mmm, yeah.
Ghosts well and vanquished, it seems.
Link hunkers down, satisfied.
Good.
Alright, alright, alright. Link’s got it now. He’s sure of it. This time, this time it’s gonna work-
Come on, arms. Arms, arms, arms, think about fingers, about the stiff scar that makes it hard to fully curl in his thumb on his right hand, the little pink nicks all over the fingers on his left-
The blanket Link hid himself under is suddenly whipped up off of him, and Link goes tumbling, squawking as he’s thrown over from the force.
“Oh shit! That’s where you went?! How- no, never mind, LEGEND I FOUND HIM-”
DAMN IT.
“Oi! Off the food, you little menace!”
Link goes tumbling in a squawking tangle of feathers as the plate he’d been sneakily pecking chunks of something orange and roasted and tasty off of gets whipped in the air, and also out from under his feet.
Oh shit oh shit which way is up- oof.
“Don’t be so rough!” comes the scolding voice of his protector from above, the lattice of be-ringed fingers under Link’s back shifting as Legend got a better grip on him, flipping Link back right-side up but not letting him go.
Link’s been in this position enough over the past couple of weeks to know better, but he still pecks half-heartedly at Legend’s fingers anyway. More token protest, less actual hope of freedom.
Legend, of course, completely ignores this.
“I wouldn’t have to be if you’d keep him away from the food!” Wild shook a spoon menacingly their way, plate of tasty orange things balanced in his off-hand. “This is for us, not that bottomless pit! Make him go off and find his own food, like seagulls are supposed to!”
Find his own food? In the forest?!
“What, while he’s still- damn, what the-”
Curse you, greedy fiend! Legend curses, fumbling as Link almost manages to flail his way free. You won’t share with one lost bird?! You won’t share even a little mouthful?! Oh! Oh! The brig for Wild! The brig for Wild for one thousand years!!
Link’s been sailing for over a year now. He also has a very dramatic little sister, and a Grandmother who had her own share of wild adventures in her youth.
He’s got a lot of words he can use to curse and wail his way through misfortune, and Wild is still cruelly holding the delicious orange things out of reach and not sharing.
And Link hasn’t had actual food for two weeks now.
Link has a lot to say, is what he’s saying. And he’s saying it at length.
… And maybe a bit obscenely.
Look, Link ate a raw fish the other day. A WHOLE RAW FISH. It was awful. The gull part of his brain didn’t care. The Hylian part was fully gagging.
Awful.
This can’t be his future forever. He’s going to eat real food again. He’s going to eat real food again. And he doesn’t care if he has to steal it right out of someone’s mouth at this point-
Passing by the struggle with an armload of wet laundry, Four suddenly makes a strangled noise and starts coughing uncontrollably. It’s such a violent fit that all three of them stop and turn to stare at him as all the laundry ends up on the ground.
“...Four?” Wild is the one to cave and venture forth, cautiously, “You okay there?”
A cough. Fist banging into chest. “Yeah,” Four says, hoarsely, not making eye contact.
Still irate at being denied, though now thoroughly derailed from his righteous tirade thanks to Four’s little interruption, Link irritably settles down in Legend’s unmoving grip.
Thwarted, yes, for now. Truly and unwaveringly so.
But just you wait, Wild.
Just you wait.
“Huh,” Hyrule says, breathy in a bad way, eyes wavering on Link like he can’t focus them. “... Do gulls, like, eat blood?”
Link stares at him incredulously.
Then he goes back to trying to lean his negligible weight against Hyrule’s clearly life-threatening wound, because oh Great Mother he’s DYING.
By Cyclos’s eyebrows, what had been up with that ambush? What had the deal even been with those freaky-weird monsters? And for the love of the Great Mother, why is there nobody here with actual useful arms??
A clumsy, heavy hand kind of… bats at Link. It says a lot that it barely even manages to jar him.
“Don’t… do that,” Hyrule says, all muzzy, trying to push Link away from where he’s busy getting nasty sticky blood all over himself, and managing not only to completely miss, but also get blood all over his hand. Because, has Link mentioned yet, that there’s blood? Everywhere? “That’s not… good. Bad. Bad bird?”
Link ignores the delusional injured person, as one has to do in such situations.
Maybe he should try leaning with his other side? Is it stronger? Maybe that’s his stronger side. Wing. Thing.
This time the hand barely clips his tail feathers before it falls limply to the ground.
“Don’t… drink my blood,” Hyrule says to the sky, and Link is going to peck him. He swears by every grain of salt in the Great Sea, he’s going to stab his beak right into that giant, bleeding gash and then he’s going to screech in his ear so loud Hyrule will feel his ears ringing for weeks-
-wait.
Screeching.
Hang on, Link is dumb, there’s a better way to do this.
“-here, it’s coming from- oh holy shit, Hyrule!”
“What, what is- oh!”
“Potion, where’s- I’ve got one, I know I do-”
“Oh, good bird, what a good bird, look at you, making all that noise for us- oh, you’re such a mess, look at those feathers-”
“... Sky. Sky, that’s- the bird.”
“Oh, no, don’t try to get up yet, look, he’s right here, he’s fine-”
“No, I- the bird, blood. Do birds drink blood?”
“... Hyrule, what?”
“... I mean, probably?”
“Sky, what?!”
“I don’t know, maybe these tiny birds do!”
“Oh for- give him here! For fuck’s sake, you two, this is a seagull, not a damn vulture, he wasn’t trying to eat you-”
“I mean, seagulls eat rodents. And carrion. So in a way, they kinda do drink blood, if you think about it. By eating it. Sort of.”
“... Wild.”
“Yes?”
“Not helping.”
“He was eating my blood-”
“... Sorry.”
Link puts up with so many indignities and trials. He really does.
At least from then on, Hyrule and Sky started slipping him bits of their supper off their plates rather regularly. Although Link suspects that the food is supposed to serve as a bribe. Specifically along the lines of the ‘please don’t eat me’ sort of thing.
He’s not complaining, though.
Anything is better than live lizards.
Anything.
“Y’ serious?” The old boatman, face full of leathery crags from years of exposure to sun, storm, and sea says, squinting at where Link is very innocently snuggled up against Legend’s neck, well-sheltered from the steady drizzle of rain by his hood.
Time has the absolute straightest face Link’s ever seen. He must be so much fun in card games. “He’s a valuable part of our group.”
“It’s a sea-rat with wings,” the boatman says drily.
Sir.
Do you have to rub the salt in like that.
Somehow Time manages to argue the boatman into letting Link onto the boat, a miracle which Link attributes to his own charms and winning personality.
He was very good, yes. He did not peck at the rough fingers that poked him all skeptic-like, even though he really wanted to.
Praise him for his self-control, swabbies.
Link huddles down closer in the curve of Legend’s neck, fluffing up his feathers more as he goes. The wind’s picked up, and the rain’s gotten heavier, and for some reason Legend’s still lingering on-deck and staring out at the sea, and look.
Link’s spent a lot of hours staring at the sea. He doesn’t really think he can be blamed for not wanting to spend even more time doing the thing he’s already spent ages doing, and will again in the future.
Hopefully.
Wait, what is he thinking. No, not hopefully! He will! Fingers. Feet! No damn wings! He’ll have them again, by the Great Mother’s salt, he will! It’s only a matter of time, he swears it, he even thought he could feel his toes for a few seconds that last time-
-No, wait, he’s getting distracted again. The point. What was the point? He had a point.
“It’s going to get worse out here in a few minutes,” says a voice from behind, and when Legend’s head turns, the hood shifts with him, letting Link see Sky, hand on the cabin wall for balance, his head tilted up to look at the clouds above with a furrowed brow and a hand protecting his eyes from the downpour. “You might want to come in soon.”
“Yeah, fine,” Legend says, not moving from where he’s leaning against the rail. “Few more minutes.”
Link gets to see Sky shrug and turn to go back indoors before the hood shifts again as Legend turns back to the sea. And then there’s a rustle of the oilskin cloak, and there’s a hand-
Link blinks, and he’s on the rail, pried from his cozy perch. He’s gearing up to voice a complaint about this when a fold of oilskin makes a tent above him, held aloft with a hand, shielding him from the rain, another hand brushing the raindrops off his wings.
“Guess you’ll be taking off sometime soon, huh?” Legend’s fingers are cold where they’re stroking down his feathers.
Link cocks an eye at him. Um, no, actually, I am so lost and incredibly edible to so many things right now. You do not want to eat me, so you’re stuck with me until I’m a person again, dammit.
Link does not have a way to articulate this.
Instead, he opts to screech, because, well. We work with what we’ve got, yeah?
Legend snorts. Taps his fingers along Link’s wings. “Don’t tell Wild, but Menace is the right name for you. My ears haven’t stopped ringing since we picked you up, you sorry little scrap of fishbait.”
Link pecks his finger for that.
Legend actually laughs, because of course he does. Then he goes quiet, face slowly fading from mirth to something more melancholic.
“You’re going to fly off eventually,” Legend says, almost absently. He turns his hand- wiggles his fingers, flashing the gems of his rings at Link.
Gull-brain takes over. His beak is fastened around one of the gemstones before he even realizes what he’s doing.
Legend doesn’t laugh this time. Just wiggles his finger, moving Link’s head. He seems content to just… watch?
Weird.
If Link had his body, this is where he’d huff and stomp a foot and demand to know what’s the deal?
He has absolutely none of the things he needs to do that, though, so instead, he redoubles his attempts to pull off a gem from its setting. Because he can.
(… There is absolutely no way he’s going to manage to get this gem out of its setting. What are these things even made of? They sure as hell aren’t soft enough to be gold.)
“When you go,” Legend says, and there’s just enough of an odd note to his voice to make Link let go of the ring and cock an eye up at him. There’s something almost dreamy, half-distant to Legend’s face- Link doesn’t like it. Feels it prickle at the feathers of his neck. “Maybe you’ll find another gull out flying around. One that likes hibiscus flowers, and singing, and seeing the world…”
I’m pretty sure gulls just like screaming, stealing things, and eating, Link can’t say, and probably wouldn’t, even if he could.
It wouldn’t do anything, even if it was possible. Legend’s clearly not seeing him- looking right through him, a thousand miles away, over the horizon and beyond reach.
But then he shakes himself, and suddenly, he’s back.
“Talking to a gull, what am I doing?” Legend mutters to himself, and scowls up at the sky. It chooses that precise moment to start pouring down harder, pounding water against the deck, and Legend curses, snatching Link up and tucking him into his hood again.
Link screeches a complaint in his ear.
“Ow, hey, I know, I know! I’m getting us out the rain already, aren’t you supposed to like water-”
“We've been here for quite a while,” Time muses, along with the sound of rustling paper. The distant sound of the waves through the window of the rickety little inn adds a constant, comfortable background rumble. “I wonder. We’ve only seen those two clusters of monsters, and nothing strange about them so far…”
Uh, says you. Link thinks there was a lot strange about those monsters that had ambushed the group before and injured Hyrule, not in the least that he didn’t know what they were.
He heard them calling those weird red… things bokoblins.
Link knows what bokoblins look like. He is, one could say, very familiar with the overall appearance, abilities, and combat skills of bokoblins.
Those things were not fucking bokoblins.
“Funny, how we haven’t seen Wolfie for so long, either,” Hyrule says, almost absently, and dances the little stalk of wheat by Link’s head again.
He snaps at it, and misses.
“We’ve been in nothing but undergrowth-heavy forests, humid swamps, and on the actual ocean for days now,” Twilight says, picking at a thorn buried in his thumb with a small knife. “I think Wolfie’s just trying to save his paws.”
Time hums. It’s a very particular kind of hum. Link has no idea how to interpret it whatsoever, but it makes Twilight cough a bit, and give Time the sort of look Aryll gives Grandma when she gets the local gull population to do something gulls are, apparently, absolutely not supposed to do, and she knows she’s going to get a half-hearted scolding, but also that she’s going to get away with it, anyway, and knows that Grandma actually found it funny, besides.
It’s a complex look, is what he’s saying.
“That makes sense,” Hyrule says peaceably, apparently missing this entirely, and pokes Link on the top of the head with the wheat stalk.
Link launches himself at it.
Hyrule drops the wheat stalk.
Hah! Mine!
Now, of course, the real question- now that Link has won his prize, and taken off to hunker down over it on top of a dresser while repelling all attempts at getting him to give over the collection of small items he also cached up here throughout the two days they’ve been resting in this little seaside town…
What the hell is a wolfie?
And why were Twilight and Time being so blatantly weird about it?
A wolfie has fur.
A wolfie has teeth.
A wolfie, Link discovers, is a big-ass predator that just comes trotting out the woods like nothing with Four on its damn back and goes right up to innocent seagulls when nobody else is around-
Hi, says the wolfie, showing off all those sharp, shining teeth, panting hot breath over Link’s entire body and that is a big mouth-
DON’T EAT ME I’LL PECK YOUR TONGUE OUT, Link screeches back, every feather on his body counterproductively puffing up as he tries to flatten himself to the ground to hide.
Four is fully cringing, ears covered by hands, as he slides off of the wolfie’s back. Nevertheless, he still drops down by Link, casually close enough to lay a hand on either of them.
“Hey, it’s okay, Wolfie’s not going to eat you,” he soothes, making a little motion with his hands almost like he wanted to reach out to pet, but thought better of doing so last second.
I don’t eat birds, the wolfie- wait, no, Four said that like a name. Is it just Wolfie? agrees, dropping down to lay on the ground. Which puts that big face up real close to Link’s vision, where he can see the blue eyes, the earrings, the dark fur markings-
-wait.
Wait, wait, no. Hang on.
Link cautiously stretches out his neck, turning to look with one eye, then the other. Staying patiently still and quiet, Wolfie doesn’t move, lets Link inspect him as Four quietly hums to himself, fiddling with the edge of his tunic, and-
Those are some really distinctive markings. And- those earrings. There’s a little chip in the blue enamel- right near the ear- almost identical, really to the mark Link noticed in one of Twilight’s earrings when he had given into the gull brain that one time and gone for a few quick pecks-
Actually. Actually genuinely identical to-
Twilight?! Is that you?!
Wolfie sits bolt upright. Four coughs on nothing so hard he actually wheezes. Link immediately remembers that he’s six ounces of loud voice and very little else and feels himself turn into a puffball of feathers again.
Then Wolfie collapses back down to the ground. Did I just get figured out in three seconds by a bird? Comes the morose whine. Four starts laughing quietly into his hand.
Link has bigger things to think about. DID YOU GET STUCK TOO?? Do you know how to change back?? Oh please Great Mother tell me you know how to change back I am so tired of being a gull I miss having hands so much-
Yip-whine, and Wolfie-Twilight is on his feet, eye wide, legs stiff, ears pointed straight up.
Four’s mouth drops open. “You’re a person?!”
Yes! Yes I’m a person, and I’ve been stuck after I used a pear to send a seagull through that portal to see what-
-Hang on.
HANG ON A SECOND.
Four just- he just replied to- he understood what Link just said?
Does that mean-
Link forgets to cower, bolting as indignantly upright as he possibly could in his current state.
YOU COULD UNDERSTAND ME THE WHOLE TIME?!
Four cringes, full-body.
Link cannot believe this.
IF YOU KNEW I WAS A PERSON WHY WOULDN’T YOU-
“I didn’t know!” Four defends himself immediately, waving his hands in front of himself. “It’s not like you outright said ‘hey! I’m a person!’ or- or anything at all! You didn’t act like anything other than a gull! How was I supposed to know otherwise?!”
WHAT KIND OF GULL THREATENS TO- TO- TO STEAL SOMEONE’S EARRINGS IN THEIR SLEEP?? WHAT KIND OF GULL EVEN KNOWS WHAT AN EARRING IS-
“... You’d be surprised?” Four tries, weakly.
Link just screeches.
No words.
Just screeching.
“ Ow, fuck- look, listen, we- this needs explaining. We can explain this-”
But first, uh, quick thought? Wolfie-Twilight ventures, pawing a bit at the ground. Just a little thing. You were… investigating a portal, you said? Big, black, swirling, kind of thing?
Link tapers off the screeching slowly. AAAaaa…Yeah?
Did anyone… ask you to do this?
No? I just found it while I was sailing. Didn’t want to leave it without knowing what it was. Why?
Right, right. Just one more thing? Your name wouldn’t happen to be… Link, would it?
… Yeeeees?
“Fuck,” say Four and Twilight in unison.
That’s not promising.
I don’t like that reaction! Link announces, bright and cheery and 100% ready to fly away in a second if needed.
“No, no, I promise, it’s not-” Four says quickly, waving his hands for a second before freezing. “It’s- this really needs explaining. Okay. Okay, shit. I- hi, Link, I’m Link. Nice to meet you?”
What.
Hi, Link, Wolfie-Twilight says, somewhat drily, very clearly making fun of Four. I’m Link, too.
… Is this a joke?
“I wish,” Four mutters, a bit pink in the face. He takes a deep breath, and seems to settle himself. “Okay, it’s fine, I can do this. I can… Okay.”
Wolfie-Twilight’s tail thumps the ground once.
Hey Link, I’ve got one more question for you, he says. What do you know about the Triforce- and what comes from the shadows cast by its light?
And so starts the absolute most unbelievable story of Link’s entire life.
He will be eighty years old, creaky, peg-legged, and in a rocking chair with a cluster of grandchildren around his knee, and they still won’t believe this tale as true, an old trophy for ‘tallest tale’ mounted in its proud place on the wall of his cabin, dings, rust, and all.
Of course, when he thinks of his first reaction to the very story he was telling them, as it was told to him…
… That’s what now about the portals?
As in, portals, plural?
… That’s WHAT NOW about TIME TRAVEL-
(Really, if you think about it, Link handled things rather well, all things being told.
And as Old Man Link contemplates, stroking his long beard as he contentedly rocks his chair, ocean breeze playing over his skin, it was probably due to all that time being stuck as a gull, first.
After a few good months of that, time travel was hardly that earth-shattering of a concept.
One must consider, after all, that his top theory before that had been, more or less, assuming that he was dead, and then proceeding to not think about it as hard as possibly for the following weeks.
Yes. In hindsight, all things being told, Link really did handle things quite well, he thinks.)
Well.
So.
Apparently.
This is, in fact, not the afterlife. This is a good thing.
A very good thing, in fact, as Link very much did not want to be dead. That would have been very bad, because that would have made Aryll sad, and Grandma would also be sad, and Tetra would also probably be sad but mad about it, he thinks, all things which are very bad and no good and to be avoided.
On the other hand, things just got a lot more complicated.
Time travel.
Link thought he’d seen some pretty weird things in his life, as it is. An entire adventure in a world that didn’t really exist. Temples, deep under the sea, haunted by malevolent creatures and spirits from the time before Hyrule drowned. An ancient king, who looked at him and saw only his own ghosts.
He didn’t really think things could get weirder.
But here we are.
“I- you’re sure?” Sky checks with Four, doubtfully, cradling what was very clearly the Master Sword in both hands. Link has absolutely no idea how he managed to miss the thing this entire time. Because Sky has been carrying it around, again, this entire time.
Gull brain. He’s blaming gull brain, and he’s sticking with it.
Four grimaces back. “Link, wore green, put together the triforce, used the Master Sword. That’s more than even me and Hyrule have, so what other kind of criteria are you even looking for?”
“If you’re sure,” Sky still is clearly doubting this entire thing, but lowers the sword to gently lie upon his bedroll, right in front of Link. “Um, Link? Just… You just need to touch the sword, apparently?” He looks over his shoulder, as though checking.
Twilight and Legend- who had begun making a very funny face about half an hour ago, three sentences into Four and Twilight’s explanation, and had yet to stop- made a thumbs-up and nodded respectively.
And, well, Link doesn’t need any more than that, so he waddles forwards- for what should be the last time, by the salt and sea, may it be so- and slaps a foot on the metal of the sword.
Chime.
And Link is instantly blinded by a flare of light that rips through the world, and by extension, him- turning him to light, to nothingness, to a growing and a rushing and a brilliance bleeding through him from head to toes- to toes-
and there is a slide-
a flip of the stomach-
a falling feeling-
Chime.
The light breaks away. The world spins wildly before him-
And his back hits the ground.
The oof that pushes its way out of Link’s lungs is completely involuntary.
Hoo boy. That was… a lot of sensation, all at once. Link blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of it all.
A tingling fades out from his body slowly, leaving him… oddly heavier-feeling. There’s grass, tickling him where he lays, the sun a source of steady warmth beaming down from high above.
Link blinks again. The world spins slightly above him. There’s an annoying little itch where the grass is brushing the tips of his-
-of his ears.
His ears.
With a speed usually reserved for combat, Link throws his hands up in front of his face-
His hands!!
His hands, with the thick white scar at the base of his right thumb, the little nicks on the sides of his fingers, the bruise from where he almost broke a finger in the cabin door a week before this whole thing happened with the portal, a half-faded blotchy shading of color spreading under the knuckle-
The tingling all vanishes at once, as though banished. He is suddenly, strongly aware of every inch of his body- every single fully-Hylian bit of it.
No feathers. No wings. No beak.
He’s back.
He’s back!
Oh thank the GODS that had been a little scary he really was starting to think he’d just be stuck as a gull FOREVER and he is never ever NEVER using a pear EVER again-
“Our bird was actually a person,” Oh! There’s Wild’s voice, half-strangled. It sounds so much quieter, now! Wow! “Well. Fuck.”
“Kidnapping,” and there’s Warriors’, muffled like he’s talking into his hands. “We are all guilty of kidnapping.”
“You okay down there?” A little poke to Link’s shoulder. Concerned heads starting to pop up in his field of vision. Legend, in particular, looks a little wild around the eyes.
“Give him a minute,” Twilight says, showing up next to Legend. “He was stuck as a gull for a long time.”
Yes. Yes, he was. And that is highly relevant at the moment, because…
“Hi!” Link says cheerfully, still laying flat on his back, up at the ring of faces peering down at him. “I’m your pet bird. Was your pet bird. One of those. Anyway! Does anyone have any food? Real food? The last thing I ate was a fish, and I think I can still feel it swimming in my stomach.”
The pears are going straight in the ocean the moment he gets home. He swears it.
And then he’s going to actually have to pry answers out of Grandma. Sixteen-or-maybe-eighteen is too far away, and the threat of being a gull forever was a little bit too real there.
He wants answers.
But first?
What he really wants is a meal that wasn’t still alive when he swallowed it.
Everything else can come after that.
Including, as it turns out, a group of time-traveling warrior-heroes from history, legend, and the future- and with them, dark shadows, portals, holy weapons and all.