Chapter Text
They tumble through a portal and into the castle of Warriors' era. After some half-true explanations to guards and a conversation with Wars' Zelda, they head off to the rooms in the castle specifically for interdimensional guests. Artemis—that's what they call this Zelda—says, before they leave, that there's someone who will want to see one of them. It is cryptic, but it is later, too, and they are all tired.
They sleep in beds, and they sleep in separate rooms. Legend can't remember if he dreams; it is of no importance, so he doesn't care to remember, whatever the answer may be.
He is awoken by a knock on his door, and when he checks the time he sighs; he was this close to actually sleeping in for once.
So he opens the door and says, "This better be important," and—no, it's just Warriors. Something about breakfast. Legend can't be bothered to listen. He shuts the door in his face and, after taking a moment to consider trying to get back to sleep and ultimately deciding he would fail, gets ready for the day.
He goes to the dining area in this interdimensional-guest-section of the castle and makes sure to glare at Warriors when he enters, and because he's busy glaring at Warriors he walks straight into someone.
"Shit," Legend says, with a "Watch where you're fucking standing," already on the tip of his tongue; as soon as he turns to see whoever he bumped into, his words dissipate from his mouth.
Like a dream.
He pinches himself. He, quite honestly, cannot tell if he feels it.
"Oh," she whispers, and smiles a little hesitantly. "Link?"
"Marin?" he asks.
Marin nods. And her face breaks into a grin, and she crashes into him for a hug, and he can't do anything but return it and stare off into space and sway a little. She cries, soft, "Oh, oh Windfish, I thought I'd never see you again!"
He might be crying, too. He buries his face in her shoulder to hide it. She smells like the ocean.
There's other people in here, Legend realizes after some amount of time. Ah, fuck. His reputation.
So he starts to pull away, even though he doesn't want to, because he knows the Captain will tease him and he's hungry. And he wants to look at Marin again.
Marin, who lets him go, and who smiles like the sparkling sea and bounces a little, and who takes his hand and pulls him over to the table where some of his companions—Wild, Warriors, Time, and Twilight, so far—are sitting, and who is far too good to be true.
Marin, who says, "Captain! You didn't tell me Link was in your group! Er, my Link!"
Warriors laughs. "I'd never have guessed the vet of all people was yours."
"Really?" Marin pouts and tugs at Legend's hair, the pink bit. "Why, has my bunny changed that much?" Legend frowns. Twilight momentarily chokes on his muffin.
"The vet is not nearly as sweet as your stories!" Warriors tells her. "And nobody would get away with calling him bunny. He's the biggest grump and the biggest ass I've met." That's an exaggeration and a half. Soldiers are worse, always.
Marin huffs and turns on Legend. He can tell she's worried. She pats his cheek and says, "Well, smile. It's too lovely to waste on frowns." Legend is already smiling, a little. He tells her as much–
"I am smiling."
"Not enough," Marin insists, but she leaves it at that.
Wild steals Twilight's now abandoned muffin. "So, uh..." He takes a bite of the muffin. "Who are you?"
"Oh! Oh, I should have expected that," she laughs. "I'm sorry. I'm Marin, from the island Koholint."
Wild hums. "Koholint... That sounds familiar."
"Probably not," Marin says.
"No– Oh!" He snaps. "I got it! There's an island in my era called Eventide, and it's got a hill called, like, Koholit Rock."
Legend blinks.
Wild hands over the Sheikah Slate. It's open to the map and zoomed in on the island in the lower right corner. "Nobody lives there, and it's kinda small anyway, but it's the biggest island on the map. Had an awful shrine quest."
Legend examines the map. "That shouldn't be possible," he declares after only staring blankly for a few seconds. And then he pinches himself again. It doesn't hurt. Oh, he accidentally chose a spot with nerve damage. He tries again. That does hurt. Then again, he felt pain on Koholint. So. It's not the most effective test, in his experience.
He'd done a lot of research on dreams, after getting home from Koholint. Nobody knows how dreams work, or why they happen, or what they're for, he found, but that dream was certainly magic, so none of that would have helped much. He was after the little quirks of dreams, anyway, because he was afraid of getting stuck. It didn't help much. Everything that would supposedly be different in a dream was the same as the waking world on Koholint. The only thing he can remember being different, he thinks, was the taste of the magic. He's in a different era than his own, right now. Of course the magic "tastes different". He doesn't even remember what Koholint felt like—just that it did. That it did feel like something, he means, that he did feel. Koholint felt real, is what it was. This does too. There is no way of knowing if it's true.
"Stop doing that," Hyrule tells him.
Legend follows Hyrule's concerned gaze down to his arms, where his right hand has taken a very tight grip of his left forearm, by the elbow. He's not sure how he went from pinching himself to that. It hurts. He looks up at Marin, who has one hand touching the table where she wants to sit and the other hovering by his shoulder. He releases his arm and shakes out his arms, and gives Marin a smile.
Well. If this is real, then he wants to enjoy it. If it isn't, nobody else will know he's a sap.
So Legend has french toast (what is a "french"? That sure doesn't sound real) for breakfast, and he lets the conversation stay on him, because he wants to solidify Marin's presence in the world, and he wants to solidify his own presence in the world. (For his whole career as a hero, he's just let things happen, because he knows they'll work out, because he's good at what he does, and he hasn't completely failed at reaching the end goal yet. Ironically, Koholint was the first time in years that he'd felt properly in place, instead of drifting along wherever the stream of time took him. And then that crumbled in on him, and he went back home and went back to just letting things happen. And now Marin is here, and he is here, and he so badly wants to dig his feet into the bed of this river and climb out and sit on the shore and let the heat of the sun dry him and actually live his own life. (He'll have to leave eventually, though, as is inevitable with this kind of quest.))
Warriors says, "Soo... How'd a grumpy guy like you end up with such a sweet woman like Marin?" He's smirking. It's obnoxious.
"Well," Legend drawls, leans over with his chin resting on his hand, "I nearly died in the middle of the ocean."
Warriors grimaces. Marin giggles. "I found him passed out on the beach," she says fondly, "and as soon as he woke up, he left to find his sword."
Hyrule snorts and Warriors chuckles. Wild reaches across the table and steals more of Twilight's food. Marin does the same to Legend. Instead of stopping her or saying anything, he just takes some of her food to retaliate.
"You change the veteran as a person," Wild observes.
Warriors nods. "Fundamentally."
Hyrule shrugs and wiggles his hand in a so-so gesture. "He's just happier."
"Aww," Marin coos. "Do I make you happy?"
Legend huffs. "Of course knowing you haven't ceased to exist makes me happy."
"Tsundere," Wild says, inexplicable as always.
Conversation moves on. They know they won't get anything else out of him, and Marin won't say anything he won't. It's a losing game.
And then Wind comes in, and Legend realizes he's going to have to keep answering questions and avoiding questions, and he might end up having to spill out his soul. (Not like it matters; if this is a dream (which it is) they won't remember.)
Wind announces his presence by opening the door a little too loudly and exclaiming, "Woah, vet, you didn't tell me you got a girlfriend!"
Legend groans and slumps forward to drop his face in his hands. His back is to Wind, so he doesn't realize that Wind is making to squeeze into the space between him and Twilight before the kid is already doing so, and so Legend can't properly defend himself. Whatever. It doesn't matter. He relents.
When Legend lifts his head and moves his arms, all his toast is gone. Darn.
Wind wipes his fingers on his pants inconspicuously (or in an attempt to be inconspicuous) and says, "Y'know, I kinda thought you'd react more to the girlfriend allegations."
"The fucking what now," Legend asks, because he's never heard anyone say fucking "girlfriend allegations" in his life.
"The girlfriend allegations," Wind repeats like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You don't seem very defensive. Am I right?" He grins and bounces in his seat. "Is she your girlfriend?"
Legend huffs. Marin takes his arm and gently tugs him a little closer. ""She" is named Marin. And wouldn't you like to know, wind boy."
"I would like to know," Wind pouts. "That's why I'm asking."
"She's definitely his girlfriend," Wild inputs. How helpful.
"Yep," Warriors says, "when we visited the old man's place, he talked about him and his wife like he was comparing them to himself and some mystery girl." How helpful. "And whaddya know! He was!"
Said old man snorts in amusement, but he doesn't say anything. Wise of him to keep quiet.
Legend closes his eyes. Sue him, seeing someone older than you with a job like theirs, settled down and happy with a woman who looks just like the girl you loved and essentially killed, will get you down. And sappy. And whatever else.
Marin pulls him ever closer and rests her head on his shoulder. They're nearly the same height. That can't be comfortable. (He sits a little straighter so she doesn't have to bend her neck so harshly, and he pretends he was just shifting in his seat.) (And he tilts his head a little to sort of rest it on hers, maybe, and he hopes nobody notices.)
Wind kicks his feet under the table. He hits Legend's right foot a couple times. Annoying. "Smells like salt. Are you from the sea, Miss Marin?"
Marin hums with a little laugh. She sounds like birds, in a very abstract and lovely way. "Yes, I'm from an island called Koholint. Do you live on an island too?"
"Mhm! 'T's called Outset, in the Great Sea."
"Oh!" She starts a little bit, and Legend opens his eyes; she's sharing a look with Warriors.
Legend hums and turns his head to press his face into Marin's hair, just behind her ear. He's tired now, for some reason, even though he just woke up. Can you be tired in a dream? He can't remember if he was ever really tired on Koholint.
Marin smells nice. Like the sea, like salt like Wind said, like flowers. Her hair is soft and warm, like she'd been standing out in the sun for a while. It's still early, the sun wouldn't be shining hard enough; maybe it's something to do with magic. Maybe it's something to do with her coming from a dream. (Maybe it's because this is a dream.)
Her hand moves from his arm to wrap her own arm around his waist and rest her hand on his bicep, and she is so gentle that he gets all choked up again and has to bury his face into the fluff of red hair at Marin's neck where it rests on her shoulder.
Wind snickers. Legend reaches over and flicks his cheek with a finger. It doesn't miss the mark, judging by Wind's indignant cry. Marin laughs. Her movement disturbs Legend slightly, but even that is something he's thankful for. She feels real. (Even if she isn't. Even if she isn't, the illusion is enough for him.)
His face is warm. (The curtains are blue, and his face is warm.) How lovely.
When they finish breakfast, Marin brings Legend to the castle garden. It's sunny here, despite the early morning fog and mist that Warriors' era always gets.
Marin tells him of the flowers she's been growing. Hibiscuses are among them. She picks one and tucks it in his hair by the pink, and she calls him bunny and they sit together on an intricately carved stone bench. He holds her hand and traces the lines of her palms.
She asks, with a little laugh, "What are you doing?"
He says, "Making sure this is real."
She laughs some more. She calls him a charmer. His ears go warm and red and she kisses one a couple times, and somewhere nearby there's a muffled "gross!" that sounds suspiciously like the sailor.
Sometime before noon, Twilight finds Warriors down by the training grounds.
"Hey, rancher," Warriors greets as he sheathes his sword.
Twilight dips his head in acknowledgment, and cuts right to the chase. "We should stay here."
"Hm," Warriors hums. He tilts his head and puts his hands on his hips, and asks, "Why?"
"You saw the vet," Twilight says simply.
Warriors nods. "I did."
"I've never seen 'im so content. I think..." Twilight looks off into the distance, thoughtful, reminiscent. "I think he's happy."
"You're saying we should stay here."
"Yep."
"Alright," Warriors says. "We could all use a break."
Time announces, later, that they will be staying at the castle for the time being. Legend cannot help but be relieved, because he cannot bear the thought of leaving Marin, and he doubts he could fight well at all with his mind preoccupied so.
Marin pulls him away soon after to show him the city surrounding, and they end up sitting on a bench outside a flower shop, and Legend is left to admire the way Marin's hair floats slightly in the breeze. He is left to let his mind wander.
He'd just begun to finally get over it, before this. He'd found that ever-elusive final stage of grief, and he was inches away from taking hold of it, and then—
And then, he no longer had a reason to grieve. Strangely, ungratefully, he wishes this had happened either earlier or later. As it is now, he is left grasping at nothing.
He has to wonder if, when he wakes, he will have to start the process all over again. Or, he could circumvent the problem entirely by simply never waking up.
He feels the sudden urge to make sure this is real, despite knowing it is not. So he sidles closer to Marin and gently places a hand on her jaw, and turns her head a bit towards him and brushes a thumb over her cheek. Her eyes widen and her mouth pouts a little.
"Just making sure you're real," Legend murmurs. Marin smiles and touches her own hand to his.
"Of course I am," she assures him, and because he can feel the subtle roughness in her skin from old acne and old old sunburns, and he can see every freckle, even the hardly visible specks, and he can feel her jaw move as she speaks, he is nearly convinced. Her eyelashes are not particularly long, but they are thick. Her eyebrows are thick like her lashes, though not nearly as full. One eye closes slightly more than the other when she squints at all. There are so many little details, here, and it is all just the same as on Koholint; he'd forgotten, over time, until her face in his memories was hardly more than a blur with pretty eyes and freckles like stars, but he knows now exactly what she looks like. And he will do everything he can to commit each and every detail to memory, so as to not let her slip away from him once more.
As if in a trance, he leans forward and presses his mouth to her cheekbone. It is hardly a kiss, because he is really just resting his face against hers, but the intent is about the same. The intent is to soak in her presence and to touch her skin to his in a carefully intimate manner. He feels her cheek shift as she smiles more, and as she turns her head to steal a small kiss on his mouth before he realizes what she is doing. His ears go red. She laughs, and it sounds like an orchestra playing a beautiful song just for the two of them.
Down the street, someone plays music. Marin stands and takes his hand and brings him over to where people have begun to dance, and she pulls him in to join. They spin in the square to a jaunty tune, and Legend finds that he is happy, truly happy.
They return to the castle for dinner five minutes late, grinning and red and panting. Wild says he helped make the food for tonight, because he spent most of the day in the kitchen learning recipes of this era, and he is very excited to know what everyone thinks. Legend thinks it is delicious, and he says that he guesses it's okay. Marin thinks it is delicious and she showers Wild and the cooks with praise. A conversation about favorite foods begins, and Legend learns that Marin has discovered countless unfamiliar dishes since coming here, and that she loves a rather expansive number of them.
She loves strawberries most of all. Legend never liked strawberries much, thought them too bitter, or sour, or something; apples were more his taste, the apples he grew up with. Marin says apples are her second favorite. Four points out those are all fruit. Marin smiles and says something pretty about apples and strawberries and Link. Wild says, "You calling him a fruit?" to which Marin says yes, my favorite fruit, and for some reason this makes Wild cry laughing.
Legend and Marin stay up late in her bedroom, chatting about their lives and gossiping about their friends like a sleepover. Marin's bedroom feels like home. It is cozy, full of fairy-enchanted lights strung up on the walls like Koholint's false stars and paintings of the sea and dried and pressed flowers and potted plants. There is a fluffy rug by the bed, and the blankets are soft and the sheets like silk, and a lamp projects gentle yellow light on Marin's face and the fairy lights shower her with pink light; and one thing leads to another, and Link and Marin are sharing a kiss, this one finally on the mouth and long enough to drink it all in, and it is beautiful. It is a wonderful feeling. He'd thought it lost, he'd thought he'd never find this again, and yet here he is, and it is better than he ever dreamed.
Legend wakes up in someone else's bed with the sun streaming down through lace curtains and red hair tickling his cheek. He breathes in deep; he smells the sea and hibiscuses. The sheets are silk, the blankets soft. There is a warm thing against his right side.
The warm thing is Marin, with her head tucked into his neck and her hand fisted in his shirt. (A shirt that is definitely not the one he was wearing yesterday. Where did his tunic end up?) His arm is under her head and more asleep than she is.
He does not want to move. There is bliss in this moment, and he has not felt bliss in a very long time.
He does try to shift his arm, though, just to regain some feeling. Marin makes a sweet little humming sound and tilts her head so slightly to press a kiss above his collarbone. Her hand releases his shirt a moment later to reach up to his face. She says, sleepily, beautifully, "What are you crying for, bunny?"
His own hand comes up and rests over hers, and touches at his cheek. "Oh," he hums. He hadn't realized.
He has to think, for a moment. He knows why he is crying, but at the same time, he really does not. It's difficult to put into words... He could say he is happy. He could say he thought she was a dream. (He still does. But waking back up here means something, he knows.) He could say he hasn't felt feelings like this in a long time, if ever. He could say he never expected to feel feelings like this at all. He could say I love you. He could say, and he does say, because it slips out without his permission, "I'd thought I killed you."
"You didn't," Marin tells him.
"I was–" His voice breaks, pitiful, pathetic. "I was almost over it, I thought. I was almost okay again."
She shifts to hold him tight, and he can almost trick himself into thinking this is a real sensation. "I'm sorry," she says. That is incredibly wrong.
"There's no reason for you to be sorry," he says, a little sharper than intended, a little more forceful than intended. Marin, for her part, does not react. Then he repeats, "I was almost okay again. Then I saw you, and I wasn't anymore." It's like he's grieving all over again, with the loss fresh on his mind once more.
Like Icarus, reaching for the sun, he reached for the abstract idea of getting over it, and, as it was always inevitable, he plummeted back into the sea.
He is starting to think that idea is bullshit. There is no way to get over it. If you are hurting, and you terribly want the pain to be less obvious, you can pinch yourself elsewhere, and your mind might focus on that pain instead. Perhaps this is similar. Perhaps that is why he keeps moving.
"I'm sorry," Marin says again, and there is so much feeling in it. He opens his mouth to protest, but she presses a finger to his lips to shush him. "And I'm not saying that to apologize for something. I'm saying I'm sorry you feel that way, and I'm here for you now, and I hope– I hope you know that."
Legend squeezes his eyes shut and inhales, and exhales shakily, and opens his eyes back up and stares at the ceiling. There are shadows from the curtains on it, and the lace gives it an ethereal dappled effect that he finds a little difficult to grasp in the moment.
Marin pushes herself up on her elbow to lean over him. Her hair tumbles down over her shoulders and frames her face and his face too. Her freckles are in the same place as they were last night, and yesterday in town, and yesterday morning, and on Koholint. Her lips are turned into a slight frown, and he can tell she's chewing on the inside of her bottom lip on the left. When she opens her mouth to speak, he can smell her morning breath a little, but he kind of just wants to kiss her. "Link," she begins. "I don't, I don't know what you're feeling. But I know I want you to be happy."
He laughs wetly, and reaches his hand up to hold her face. "I am happy." There's no way this is real. "I am unbelievably happy."
Marin smiles, and it appears like the sun, and his hand moves faster than his mind—it wraps behind her shoulders and tugs her down to fall on his chest, and he hugs her and kisses her once she has regained her bearings.
He and Marin lay tangled in her bed, with the early morning sunshine gracing the room, and they laugh together and hold each other, and it feels like home.
And Legend is now very sure that this is not real. If it seems too good to be true, then it is not true. He learned that lesson the first time.
Legend and Marin are the last to breakfast, which means everyone witnesses the two of them arriving sleepy and disheveled together. Warriors wiggles his eyebrows and Wind giggles, and Legend steadfastly ignores them both. He just hums a song and takes an egg and, when he notices that there is strawberry yogurt, grabs some and gives it to Marin.
When they sit down, Legend plays with Marin's hair. She tilts her head a little, enough to tell him that she is curious, but not so much as to disturb him. He murmurs, as he did yesterday, "Jus' making sure you're real."
She smiles and tells him, quietly, same as she did yesterday, "Of course I am." She says it like a rule, like it is a given, and he can almost believe her.
At a lull in the wider conversation, Warriors says, with purpose and a smirk, "So, vet, what did you get up to last night?"
"None of your business," Legend bites, just as Marin chirps, "How much detail would you like?"
They look at each other. Warriors looks back and forth between them. Wind stares at Marin. Warriors seems to seriously consider his options, and Time declares, "I am making the executive decision to shut that line of questioning down."
Wind pouts. "I'm a pirate, I can handle a little–"
"I do not want to hear about this while I am trying to eat my breakfast," Time says. He has finished his breakfast. He is just drinking milk now.
Marin dissolves into giggles, and Legend can't help but snort with her. Her laugh is contagious, and her laugh is lovely.
After breakfast, Marin leaves to do errands, and Legend is dragged into a spar with Warriors. He loses by a long shot, but that's fine.
The match is over quick. As the two of them go to drink some water, Warriors asks casually, "What were you up to last night? Purely curious, you don't have to tell me."
Legend shrugs. "We just talked." A lie.
Warriors turns toward him with an eyebrow raised. "That all?"
"As far as you know," Legend says, cryptic. Then he laughs and elbows Warriors in the side and adds on, "I'm just kidding with you. We really didn't do much of anything, besides chat." Also a lie. Something in him twists at the thought of letting anyone know what's really happening, even though they definitely already know, because they've all seen him and Marin together, and it's not like they're going out of their way to hide anything. Maybe he's just trying to keep some semblance of mystery, here. It's like a shield. Better to keep nothing set in stone.
Legend drinks his water and goes back out to their battlefield, and Warriors follows. When Legend readies himself and his sword, however, Warriors simply stands there, frown on his face.
Legend huffs. "What's the issue, captain?"
Warriors shifts his weight a bit and asks, a bit hesitantly, "Is everything alright?"
"What?" Legend says on reflex, dropping his sword a bit, because really, where did this question come from? But, he feels he should hear the captain out—so, instead of brushing him off, Legend asks, "What do you mean?"
"You seem..." Warriors waves a hand. "Different. I don't know, I'm not particularly emotionally intelligent, or anything."
Legend stands up straight. "You're saying my vibes are off."
"I'm saying– Yes, that the vibes are off. And..." Warriors shifts his weight again and hums, and after a moment of thought he continues, "You haven't really been reacting to my teasing. That only happens when something's bothering you."
Legend doesn't respond, just looks at Warriors and then looks away. There's a bush nearby with flowers. They could be symbolic, if Legend knew any flowers besides apple blossoms and hibiscuses. (And the basics. He's not some kind of idiot who only knows two flowers.)
Warriors moves on to a different topic. "So what's the deal with Marin? She never told much about the circumstances she met you in."
Legend sighs and tosses his sword to the side. He sits down on the ground, cross-legged, and leans back on his hands.
He says, "My, mm, fourth? quest, began when I was out at sea. Sailing back to Hyrule from my third. I was alone on a little boat, and there was a storm, and I ended up washed up on the shore of an island. Marin found me."
Warriors sits across from him. He is listening intently, carefully.
Legend hums. His voice catches a little. "It was a nice island. Picturesque, cute... like a vacation. Like a dream. There were monsters, though, because there always is. And I had to wake a god asleep at the top of a mountain in order to stop the monsters."
He lets himself fall onto his back and stares up at the sky. It is blue. There are clouds. It's not as blue as the sky above Koholint, and the clouds aren't as fluffy as the clouds above Koholint.
"It was like a dream," he repeats, "because it was. And I knew that, I learned it halfway through, and I knew that waking the Windfish would end the dream and make the whole place cease to exist, and I did it anyway."
"You think you killed her," Warriors finally says, hardly more than a whisper, but confident as he always is.
Legend exhales, soft.
"And you're not sure if this is real."
"It isn't," Legend states. "I wouldn't be telling you this if it was."
Warriors frowns. Legend can't see it, but he hears it in his voice. "It is real."
"It isn't."
"This is all real, vet," Warriors insists, and it hurts.
Legend does not reply.
He would like it to be real. It would hurt, but it already hurts, so it couldn't hurt terribly more to play along, just for now.
Legend does not reply, but he hums, and he nods. Warriors seems satisfied.
Legend sits in the castle gardens and plays the ocarina as Marin sings; it is the Ballad of the Windfish, of course. Nothing is waking. Of course not, he needs all the other instruments.
He plays with his eyes closed; when the song finishes and he opens his eyes, he is surprised to see both Hyrule and Wind sitting nearby with rapt attention. Wind claps and exclaims, "That was so good! Marin, your voice is really pretty!" and Hyrule says, quieter, "That's a very nice song."
Marin laughs and thanks them. Legend just rests his hands and ocarina on his lap and smiles.
She sings more for them, and this time Legend can just sit and watch. She looks so lovely when she sings, as if the music has turned to light in order to highlight all her beauties. She has a slight smile and her eyes have fallen shut, and the atmosphere is, in a word, serene, and Legend can't help but let himself go all sappy.
He sees, out of the corner of his eye, Wind whispering something to Hyrule. It's probably about him. He's too busy being a lovesick fool like Sky to really care.
To fall in love is often depicted quite grandly. He has already fallen in love, but he thinks this is fittingly grand. The lighting, the song, the environment... They all come together to create a very specific kind of feeling.
It's not grand, really, is the thing. It's just another moment in life. He makes it grand simply by his own perception and feelings; quite the power, here.
Sometimes he feels like these dreams are stories. Like they're meant to entertain, and he is simply the unlucky victim chosen to take part in the tragedy. He is doomed by the narrative, and all that, and the inevitability of endings. He is the Hero of Legends, after all. Legends are stories. He, himself, is fated to simply be a story.
He hopes this is a good story. He hopes that someone cries over it and loves it and cherishes it and calls it their favorite. He hopes it's real to someone.
When Marin finishes her song, Wind and Hyrule both clap. Marin thanks them and kisses Legend on the cheek, and his face goes a little red. He pulls her to sit next to him and he knows the boys are still there and he's absolutely going to be teased for this, but he feels the sudden crushing urge to make sure this is real. Even though he knows it's not. So he looks at her, and takes in every freckle and mark, and reaches up to feel her hair.
"Eww," Wind complains, "stop being all in love when I'm here."
"I think it's sweet," Hyrule says.
Wind ignores him. "Get a room!"
Legend has started braiding Marin's hair, though he's not quite sure when. "You can leave, you know."
Wind huffs and crosses his arms and pouts. "I want to hear Marin sing more."
Hyrule nods eagerly.
"Well," Marin says with a laugh, "if you ask nicely, I'd be more than glad."
So, Hyrule asks, "Please?" and Legend is once more swept away by song.
This one is different; it's one he hasn't heard before. It feels... it feels...
It has proper lyrics, unlike Ballad of the Windfish. She's sung songs with lyrics before. She always put the most feeling into the Ballad, though—but this time, this song, she sings with that same incredible emotion.
About halfway through, he realizes why.
It must have been written by Marin herself, because it matches the events of his time on Koholint far too well to be anything but. Aside from himself, only Marin properly knows the story.
Her lyrics and melody and voice all capture the feeling beautifully. It's far too beautiful. When, through the pretty bittersweet metaphors, he can sense that she's reaching the story's end, he whispers her name. It is not of his own accord. She tilts her head a little and glances at him, and he says, voice rasping with how quietly he does so, "Stop. Please."
She obliges. She turns and takes one of his hands in her own—at some point, they'd stilled and fallen to rest on her shoulder and back—and... He knows her, knows she's frowning, but he doesn't see. His gaze is focused on a distant nothing between blurry blades of grass. He hears her voice, though.
Marin murmurs, "Link? Are you alright?"
Legend says, quiet enough that Wind and Hyrule won't hear—though he knows they both have sharp ears and most certainly do hear, but it's comforting to assume that they'll politely not listen in— "'T's a pretty song."
"Oh–" Marin gasps, "Oh, I'm so sorry." She twists further and places her right hand on his neck, right at his jaw so her thumb can brush his cheek, and her left on his opposite shoulder. She gently urges him to look at her, and she says, so very soft, "My song upset you, didn't it? I should've thought..."
There is a lot left unsaid. Marin looks so concerned and guilty already that he couldn't speak, even if he wanted to, even if they didn't have an audience.
In the end, she just pats his cheek and says, "We'll talk about it later," and turns back to Wind and Hyrule. Hyrule says something about knowing that song—or, rather, having heard it before—and Marin correctly guesses that Hyrule falls after Legend in the timeline. She asks for requests, and Legend drifts in soundwaves.
Wind has asked Marin for the music. It's super pretty, so of course he wants to know it! Luckily, the way to write music doesn't vary much if at all across timelines, so it's as quick as Marin asking around for blank music sheets, jotting down the notes and lyrics, and answering Wind's questions about little things he doesn't know. (The Wind Waker isn't exactly a musical instrument in the typical sense, and he hardly ever uses sheet music, so he's not too well versed in the technical side of all that.)
That's how he's ended up here, in the common/sitting/whatever area of where they're staying. He's not sure what to call it. There's couches, though, and a piano? Wild was trying to play it earlier, but it sounded kind of like a mess of notes. Legend had been in the room with Marin—Wind thinks he was trying to explain to her what a "kangaroo" is, which Wind tuned out pretty quickly because he doesn't know either and it seemed like Legend was doing a pretty bad job—and said something about "jazz" and "experimental".
That's a tangent. Right, so Wind is in the couches room with the sheet music spread over a couch table. He's got the Wind Waker out, because he had been trying to learn the music, but now it's abandoned to the side in favor of puzzling out the lyrics.
Said lyrics are very intriguing. They've got a lotta metaphors, but he's having a real hard time telling what is and isn't a metaphor. Lots about dreams and the ocean, which is a little unsettling given that he and Legend are probably around about the same amount of... time, after Time, give or take a hundred years or so. Well, unsettling with further context.
Here are some things Wind knows:
When Marin stopped singing it, it was because Legend stopped her. They were really quiet, and it seemed personal, but Wind is a 14 year old boy who is also a pirate and a hero, so of course he's gonna eavesdrop if he's curious! It might be important! Anyways, that's the thing—it seemed personal. Legend stopped her singing towards the end because, Wind guesses, it was too personal. Personal between him and Marin. For privacy's sake, Wind isn't going to dive too deeply into whatever that means, but he'd guess it has to do with whatever adventure of his that he met Marin on.
On that note—Wind also has no godsdamned clue what this song is actually about. Is it real events, presumably the events of that mystery adventure? Because Legend's never mentioned anything that Wind could even vaguely connect to any of these lyrics. Or, more likely, it's just a vague sappy song about probably hypothetical events that the two happened to bond over in a very emotional way. It being Legend, though, he really can't discount that first option. The guy never talks about himself, and he'd never talked about even Marin before this despite clearly having some sort of history with her.
...Actually, now that Wind thinks about it, Legend didn't seem to know the song itself. When Marin started singing it, he seemed more intrigued than anything, and only got that I-am-feeling-so-many-emotions-right-now-but-I-am-NOT-going-to-start-crying-in-front-of-other-people kind of reminiscent expression later on.
And, hey– Reminiscent? And Legend stopped her towards the end. He didn't want to hear the end.
Wind scans over the lyrics till he reaches about the spot Marin stopped singing at and reads the whole section after that. Then he reads a bit before, then the whole end again. Then he makes a mental conspiracy board, red string and all, and comes to a conclusion. Two, actually.
One, this song is definitely about the quest of Legend's that he met Marin on. Two, this is already a huge fucking breach of privacy and going further on his own would just make him uncomfortable.
He's still really really curious, though.
So.
Legend is at the piano again, attempting to figure out whatever Wild had played. It, at first, had sounded like he was just playing random notes, but he had realized that it was actually somewhat coherent. It had an air of danger to it on top of that. Wild hadn't even known what a piano was at first! How! Did he do that! If he'd never fucking seen a piano! (Side note—he somehow does know what an accordion is. It and maracas are the only instruments he's heard of. Wild certainly never fails to amaze.)
Legend is at the piano again, because Marin is off doing more errands. He shouldn't be disappointed that she has a life, he knows, but he is.
He is filled with an overwhelming urge to check that she is real, (despite knowing she is not,) but he cannot. So he is here, staring at this fucking piano and getting nowhere with his thoughts, because if he panicked over Marin being gone for two hours then he might as well just go out to town in a jester's cap and pants and transform into a bunny right in town square. (It would be humiliating, is what he's trying to say.)
So he's here.
He lifts a hand, either to pinch himself out of habit or to press a key on the piano, but is shocked out of the action by Wind, who has decided that clapping a hand on someone's shoulder with no warning and shoving a paper in their face is an acceptable way to start a conversation.
Wind asks, "What do the lyrics of this song mean to you?"
Legend stares. He realizes now that his eyes had unfocused, like they so often do when he stops paying full attention to the world. Or maybe the paper is just too close to his face.
Wind takes this lack of an answer as hesitation, apparently, and withdraws the paper—oh, papers. He's got a whole packet. What exactly is going on?—and says sheepishly, "You don't have to answer. Of course. It's probably personal..." He trails off into gibberish after that. Legend couldn't even transcribe that, honestly. Impressive.
"You stuck it right up to my eyes, sailor, I wasn't even able to read it," Legend tells him. Then he takes the papers from Wind's hand, saying, "Give it," as he does so.
It's... the song Marin sang. Handwritten by Marin herself on a sheet music template, and annotated by Wind. There's little comments on symbols and such... And the occasional underlined verse, sometimes with a question mark by it. There are more towards the end. Another note, too, is by where the lyrics he recognizes stop—it says simply, "where Vet asked to stop. ??" He doesn't read past that.
Legend frowns and mutters, "...Are you theorizing on my tragic backstory?"
"I knew it!"
He jolts at Wind's sudden exclamation and swears. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. He goes to speak, but words fail him and he is left flapping his mouth like an idiot.
"So," Wind says, bouncing on his heels, "now that I've got confirmation, I need to know if you're okay with me continuing my investigation."
Legend steps back and takes a deep breath through his nose. He lowers the papers, folds them all together twice, and sticks them in his bag. With some hesitation, he says, "Come with me," and knows that he will regret this.
He's only used this bedroom once. Both nights since reuniting with Marin were spent in her room, where she is an arm's reach away at most, and he is not alone and grasping at silky threads of dreams when he wakes. The blankets are still shoved aside from when he woke that first morning, but that's the only sign that someone had used this room. He took his things with him, because leaving them here was basically asking for theft, so. It's pretty empty.
Legend sits at the desk; Wind tosses himself backwards onto the bed and lets the mattress springs bounce him up to sit properly.
"Tell me what you think you know," Legend says, and Wind does.
He is spot on. Dream, whale, the whole shebang. He finishes it by mumbling something about how he also had a quest involving whales and dreams, which provides the small comfort of prior experience. It's unlikely that anyone else would figure it out, then, with how vague and metaphorical these lyrics are. (It's also an equal discomfort, because Legend hates the idea of Wind experiencing that same guilt as he did.)
Legend asks, "What are you looking for?"
Wind shrugs and says, "Just confirmation, I guess."
Legend can do that. He tells him, "None of this is real," simply and bluntly.
Wind frowns. His brow furrows, he looks around; he starts, somewhat incredulously, "...No, I'm pretty sure it is."
"Marin is dead," Legend insists. "I killed her."
Wide, worried eyes stare him down. "You did?"
Legend nods. He did, he did.
"Can I see the music sheets?" Wind asks, kicking his feet. Legend pulls the folded paper from his bag and hands it over. Wind unfolds it and holds it close to his face with that scrunched-up expression of thought, and says, "Nope, I think this part is supposed to be after that. And—" he lowers the paper to look Legend in the eyes— "she looks pretty alive to me."
"I don't think you understand," Legend says, and stands up. "This isn't real. I'm in a dream right now."
And, he doesn't say, I don't want to leave it.
And, he doesn't say, I couldn't bear the possibility that I've been grieving for nothing this whole time.
(And, he doesn't say and doesn't think, I couldn't bear even the thought of leaving her behind again.)
When Marin comes back, Legend holds her close. She teases, "Aw, did you miss me already?"
And he tells her, "Just making sure you're real."
When Legend wakes up in the middle of the night in the midst of a panic attack, Marin wakes as well and asks if it was a nightmare. He holds her tight and says no, because he never dreamed on Koholint, so why should he—how could he—now? He holds her tight and asks, "How do I know this is real?"
She tells him, "You just have to trust." She pets his hair, and he burrows his face into her neck, and he doesn't tell her that he hasn't found himself able to truly trust reality in a long time.
Marin goes to Link, the Link of this time and not her own, because she is worried. She is worried about her Link, of course, because he is so different and, and sad, and it hurts her so much to see.
And then there is the fact that he can't seem to convince himself that her being here is a truth and a reality.
She did not truly cease to exist after the Windfish woke; rather, when it eventually returned to sleep, 2 or so years later, she reappeared with knowledge of her life for those past 2 years. Knowledge, not memories; she knew what had happened, but she could not recall the moments.
She wrote a song.
She, eventually, accepted that she would not see him again. She accepted that to him, she was gone, and that he likely had accepted that too. She'd told herself, why should you be so sad, when he is out there somewhere, having been the one to do it, and is most certainly over it by now? It has been 4 years, after all, or maybe 3, or maybe 5.
It had been 3 years, and then she could see land where she hadn't before. It was very close, and she figured this must be the mainland, brought close enough by magic or divine interference for reality to accept her world. So, she packed some things, including the Sea Lily's Bell—she'd discovered not too long prior that it is actually quite useful as a weapon, and it makes pretty sounds as a bonus—for self-defense and as a memento and reminder of home, and bid her father goodbye and sailed off to that land.
Next thing she knew, she was wrapped up in a war she knew little about.
She stayed, when it was all over, because somewhere in her she still held hope that perhaps, someday, she would meet her bunny once more.
And she did. How wonderful, how lovely!
It is strange, then, to find that he is so changed while she is the same. Her hair is a little straighter, long enough that it weighs itself down, and she can fight like nobody's business, and she is a little older and more aware of the world, but he is a whole new person. She can still find who she knew him as, baked into the little things and his smiles and his everything, but—her mind is brought to that first conversation with Captain Link's friends over breakfast. Where her Link smiled less and pinched himself so hard she could see the crescent indents sit in his skin for longer than they ought to, where he'd been labeled a "grump" and an "ass" and described as happier despite it all.
And he said, not once, not twice, but four times, that he was simply making sure she was real. She can see where he's coming from, of course—he'd told her, confided in her, just before he went to wake the Windfish, that none of this was real and he was sorry, and he'd cried and apologized, and, oh.
Oh, Marin knows, really truly knows, what is going on here. (It's really not much of a revelation. Just an increased understanding, if anything, but it feels...)
So she is here with the Captain in her garden. And she tells him, as she cups a pretty pink just-bloomed hibiscus in her hands, "I'm worried."
"About the vet," he says, not even as a question. He just knows. Who else? What else?
"Yes," she answers anyway. "He... he seems to be struggling with..." She huffs and lifts the flower slightly higher. "I think he thinks this isn't real, because the first time we met wasn't real, technically."
The Captain only hums. And he says, "I know." He doesn't say it, but Marin knows he is at a loss for what to do. She is, too.
What can one do to deny the powers of a god?