Chapter Text
The war was over, the country began to heal. But it never really ended for the captain. It lived beneath his skin, forever plaguing his very bones. His ears rang with the clamor of armies clashing, his muscles twitched in constant apprehension. Relaxation was nothing but a folly and even the man’s dreams put him on edge. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the charred fields and piles of dead. Every time he dared to venture out in public, even within the castle walls, someone demanded answers or apologies. When he was particularly unlucky, they demanded he do the impossible–resurrection, give more than he already had, more than he had left . If the captain could trade his life for all those he spent, he’d have done so in a heartbeat.
He wasn’t sure the value of his mottled soul matched the thousands of good men he cashed for victory, but someone else was more sure that his soul was somehow worth an entire nation. Victory Day was marked by protests and mobs. Always, there were up-and-coming politicians who promised to oust the captain from his place in court. They never made it far, but for each that failed, two more took their place. His council had the most visitors, his plans the most requests, his forums the most questions. He did his best to keep to himself–out of sight, out of mind, make the least amount of trouble for the crown he could. Warriors often felt he couldn’t breathe without being scrutinized for it.
Sometimes , his convoluted scheduling and long nights paid off. Sometimes , he even felt a little like himself again. Some days were better than others. Today was not one of them.
The captain woke up feeling inhuman. He woke without privacy, to the chatter of his brothers groggily preparing themselves for the day. There were eyes on him, words said to him. Normally Warriors sought out Wind’s admiration, but today it made him feel like little more than an object. The captain was not a man but a prize . He was something to obtain, something to grasp, something to poke and prod at and ogle and applaud. He felt like a circus animal. That feeling blossomed into paranoia.
The worst thing about the paranoia was that Warriors knew he was being unreasonable, and yet it felt so beyond his control. It possessed and compelled him and it crawled like an infection beneath his skin. Every movement around him set him on edge, every word had a second meaning, and each decision an ulterior motive.
His trust was a brittle thing. Once it was forged with comrades in bunkhouses over bowls of hot slop and in baths of cold water. Trust came from shaved heads and shared colds. Trust came from experience, from practice, from saving one life to have his saved in turn. It was a hard thing to build and so very easy to shatter. It never felt like his anymore–his to take or give, his to have any confidence in. He felt like a sink, a pit. He was something others trusted in and confided him but he could not afford himself the same luxury. He felt like he was a hair trigger away from being the thing which killed any of the love he had left. Warriors worked so hard to scrape himself together after the war, and it left him exhausted and shallow and terrified .
Lost in a haze, Warriors stared at the back of his hand. He was trembling. His chest felt tight, his mind weaved some insane conspiracy about the others. If they walked behind him, it was to stab him in the back. If they walked ahead, it was to lead him to his death. If they offered him food or water, then it was poison, and if they talked to each other then they were whispering amongst themselves.
“Captain,” Legend said, nudging the man.
Warriors flicked a cold scowl down towards the boy. “Yes?” he asked without a hint of warmth.
Legend’s gentle frown deepened. “Here,” he offered as he gave up a phial. “Put a little on your wrists. It helps with the shakes.”
Warriors paused, taking the small glass tube. It was the size of his pinky, filled with an amber tinted liquid. He raised it to the sun, looking through it for any of the usual telltale signs of pollution. Tipping it back and forth, he found none.
“What is it?” Warriors asked cautiously.
Legend shrugged. “Dunno really. Rulie gave it to me. He said it helps with his nerves, and boy does it ever. It’s the only reason I ever get any sleep.”
Warriors glanced ahead to the others. In the end, he’d slipped to the back of the Chain, even behind Twilight. The rancher had glanced at him in passing curiosity, but let the issue slide. As Warriors marinated his thoughts in doubt, his eyes had been focused on Twilight’s pelt. If any of his brothers proved to be a threat, it was Twilight or Sky. Sky was lost in his own world as usual, but Twilight—he was dangerously vigilant and quick to act.
As he stewed, the others got ahead of him and Legend. Warriors knew he could take the veteran in a fight, and he even went so far as to be sure he could kill the boy if needed– you bloody moblin brain! He’s a child! Warriors shook his head. Somehow, being left with the mystery tonic and the boy who’d given it to him, Warriors felt less confident.
It’s a trick , Warriors hissed at himself. They know!
Know what? He wasn’t sure. He could never be sure. He was so insecure in the others that he doubted himself.
Legend tipped his head, raising a brow. “You don’t gotta use it,” the veteran said. “I just thought I’d offer. You have a tendency to blow up when you get all twitchy.”
They’re trying to weaken you!
Warriors forced the creep of fear down. It dug into his chest, welling his heart with rot. The captain took the tube between shaking fingers, the pads wet with a cold sweat, and pried the cork off. Immediately, there was a hint of almond. The preservation which overtook the captain in that moment was purely reflexive.
Legend opened his mouth to yell, but Warriors clamped a hand around the veteran’s throat. He squeezed until his nails broke the boy’s skin and his fingers left a bruise across Legend’s neck. The captain clenched his teeth, snarling through them.
“Who sent you?” he demanded.
Legend flailed, flapping his lips as he gasped for air. His hands clawed at the captain’s bracers, scratching the leather. He drew up a foot and kicked!
Legend’s heel met the captain’s armpit, drawing a gasp of pain from the man. It was enough to make Warriors release the veteran and Legend crashed to the ground, choking as he swallowed air. His eyes pricked with tears, wild violet sweeping up to Warriors’ wrathful sapphire.
Warriors threw a hand to his back, fingers finding the hilt of a hidden dagger tucked along his waistband. With well practiced ease, he drew the pointed knife. Its sharp edge caught the pleasant afternoon light in a silver shine, its blade shaped like a long teardrop so that it plunged deep into flesh and swept out with little effort.
Traitortraitortraitor–!
In his own mind, it was as if Warriors were plunged into an icy abyss. It was an old habit–a bad habit–borne of a need for protection. There was no one to guard him, no one that could, so Warriors took it upon himself. There was Link, the orphan and underdog, the man who mourned every life he felt responsible for and who enjoyed escorting Artemis to the castle gardens to watch the morning birds. He was Link who liked children and felt the war was worth it just to hear laughter in the streets again. Link who liked his rainy days with a spot of tea and a trashy romance novel or playing chess with Impa. And then, there was the captain.
A spirit of war, a thing which rose from gunpowder and bloodstains. It was a vicious parody of the life it claimed to protect because the captain loved nothing more than chaos and adrenaline and victory. It lived to rout its enemies, to outwit and outmaneuver them. It was hungry to conquer their camps and sentence their prisoners. It was a sword and shield, bow and lance. It was an extension of its general and queen, a thing which bathed in pride and slept in wrath and cooked its feasts on funeral pyres.
It was a possession , a cruel bastardization. Link fostered the captain if only to protect himself because he was incapable of doing what only he could do. When the captain seized control, it did so with its thumbs in Link’s eyes and its teeth in his throat. It pushed him down into a frozen lake locked beneath a sheet of opaque ice so the weakling was never forced to see the cruelty his own hands were capable of. The captain was a monster beyond Link’s control. He regretted its creation at the same time he refused to smother it. It had a bottomless stomach full of rot and triumph, a gut clogged with regret and loss. If Link killed the thing before it finished digesting, all of its worse attributes would return to the man and Link knew he would capsize beneath the weight of so much death and legacy.
Having seen so much life laid at his feet, Link was forced to value his own. He’d given so much of himself that he fought tooth and nail to keep what he had left–the air in his lungs and a beat in his heart. The almondine aroma was the scent of poison . A violent sort of medicine that would leave Warriors choking on his vomit and bleeding from the eyes. He’d seen it used before to unfairly efficient results and it had come from his brother . A child , no less. Link was not capable of seeing such treachery to its natural conclusion, and so it was another corpse he tossed to the captain and that vengeful wraith having starved for so long emerged from the darkness with striking swiftness to snap up the morsel.
Legend’s eyes widened at the mean shine of the knife. He gaped at the captain’s ferocious glare. Royal blue eyes often so regal and warm were alight in the fires of war. There was nothing familiar in that roiling glower.
“ Help! ” Legend screamed, scrambling to all fours.
The veteran tried to make a swift escape, only hoping the others were called back in time to save him. Warriors drove his foot into the small of the boy’s back, crushing him to the ground. Legend coughed as the air was forced from his lungs. The captain dug his heel in, eliciting a wail of pain from the veteran.
“Answer me!” Warriors roared. “Who sent you?!”
Legend clawed at the earth. “Help me!” he shrieked. “He’s gone crazy!”
The veteran’s first scream had drawn the others’ attention and now the heroes rushed back. There was confusion as they fumbled to make sense of the sudden insanity, but there was a very real danger if they came too close that Warriors might act rashly. Wind and Time took the front–that was their brother, and both were pale as if they’d seen a thing from their nightmares. They were hardly quick enough–Twilight was at the vanguard, throwing down four paws.
Warriors held the blade to the nape of Legend’s neck. “Answer or die slowly!” the captain threatened, all his energy fixated on the boy under his boot.
Legend squirmed beneath the man, pleading with his brothers to hurry faster . The commotion had broken out so suddenly that there was little time to react before Warriors had the veteran pinned beneath him. The veteran’s fingers stung, blood welling up to raw scrapes along the tips and under the nails as he failed to find purchase and drag himself out from the captain’s heel. His breath seized in his throat, panic thick as it brought sobs from some pocket of deep instinctual fear baked into the boy’s flesh.
“Cap’n!” Wind cried desperately. “ Stop ! You’re hurting him! ”
Warriors growled, able to hear and not understand the sailor’s pleas. All he could hear was panic, and it was Wind’s panic, and Warriors needed to protect him from the diseased rats which infiltrated their ranks–”How long ?!” he demanded from Legend. “How long have you–!”
Jaws took the captain’s arm, teeth carving into his leather bracer. An electric shower of pain buzzed through Warriors’ limb–the soft crunch of bone, the brilliant explosion of bruising–and a swear vicious enough to evoke the sort of monsters which only lived in stories slipped the captain’s lips. With a crepitating snarl, Wolfie tossed his head, throwing the captain to the ground by his arm.
The wolf hunkered down, hackles raising with a vicious snarl. He put himself between Legend and the captain, a meanness in his cobalt eyes telling the man to back off . The beast bristled in a way the others had never seen before. If Warriors was able to put himself away for his own safety, Twilight could do the same to defend the others. Strangers’ glares held each other, two animals rising towards a fight for dominance.
Warriors rolled up to his feet, crouching low, ready to lunge. His muscles were alive for what felt like the first time in years. It almost brought a sick smile to his face, but instead the gleeful expression was a hideous baring of teeth. He braced the knife, refusing to throw their stare down or even grace the beast with a taunt or jeer. He’d seen the animal work often enough to know that moving his gaze for the tiniest of moments, distracting himself with the luxury of words, it could be his death.
Slobber spilled from the wolf’s muzzle, a crackling growl chilling the air. Warriors’ temper flared brightly against the cold primality. It was a strange titanic clash of crimson lava meeting a stoic glacier. They were on a headlong collision course towards some brilliant thunderclap, the air mounting thickly between them as if the world itself tried to get out of the crossfire.
With Wolfie between the veteran and Warriors, Hyrule darted in to save his brother. Legend was inconsolable, red faced and blubbering. Words failed the boy for the first time in ages. He could only latch onto Hyrule, smearing the boy’s threadbare tunic with his bloody, dirty hands.
“Legend!” Hyrule urged, hauling the hero to his feet.
Legend’s knees were weak, his body refusing to answer his demands. He fell into Hyrule’s chest, shivering as the sudden claw of death was torn away from his back. He still felt its chill on the nape of his neck, the only thing between him and the knife’s edge was his few layers of clothes. Hyrule took on Legend’s weight in stride, intent on getting him to safety.
Four beckoned for them. “Over here!” he yelled. “Now!”
Hyrule dragged Legend away from the rising tension, Sky grabbing the both of them and throwing them towards Four as quickly as he could manage.
As he shoved them behind himself, Sky drew Legend’s sword. He took vigil then, putting himself between Legend and Warriors as the next line of defense. The Master Sword would only scold him for it, and Sky did not want to hear her lectures just then.
“Twi!” Wild yelled, darting to the wolf’s defense.
Wolfie snapped his jaws at Wild. Barkbark! Stay away!
The captain’s lips twitched up into a frenzied smile. His heart lurched into his throat, victory making his mouth water. He seized that fraction of a second to make his charge.
With his knife in hand, he leapt upon the wolf. It was such an earnest attack that it could only be attributed to madness. In his right mind, Warriors would never dare take on the predator in such a direct match. Wolfie was stronger, faster, more agile. The only thing a man had over an animal were human tactics, but there was nothing human about the captain either. There was just gluttony . He was starved for victory, eager to plunge his knife into that thick fur.
Wolfie, the captain forgot, was no animal . The beast dodged, ducking beneath the captain’s wild slash. The wolf heeled to the man, Twilight coming back up on two feet. Planting one foot between the captain’s, Twilight hooked the captain around the waist and thrust him straight down onto his back.
The momentum so great and distance so short, the shock of the landing rang through Warriors’ shoulders and into his head. Blood wet the captain’s lip, his teeth severing the tip of his tongue as the impact rattled his skull. He gasped, he choked on the blood, and he was enraged .
With a bloodchilling roar, Warriors kipped up, driving his feet into the rancher’s stomach. Twilight gasped, the air knocked from him, something in his chest begging to give with a stab of pain. The rancher’s eyes widened, and he skirted back on his heels as Warriors came at him with a blind screech of fury and the edge of his dagger. The captain slashed so sharply he cut the air, tearing the rancher’s face open from ear to nose on the edge of his blade. Twilight’s skin opened in a deep gouge, hot blood spilling down his cheek and neck.
It hurt –there was no other word for the stinging pain. The wound seemed to scream at the rancher, making his ears ring as it begged for attention. So focused on protecting his brothers, Twilight had no time to spare on the injury. Twilight snarled, throwing his fist sidelong into Warriors’ head.
Knuckles met the captain’s jaw, the impact deep and dull. The ache was immediate and time seemed to slow. What was left of Warriors’ sanity was a vase and Twilight’s fully forced punch knocked it from its perch. Less than a second before the ceramic met the ground, no time to spare the thing which contained a righteous tempest. The captain staggered to the side, knocked off balance and out of awareness for the briefest moment. Twilight rushed the man, pinning him down to the dirt–the grapple was what shattered all that remained of the captain.
Warriors shrieked a vicious curse, his bloody mouth spattering Twilight’s face. As he screamed unintelligible filth, Warriors pitched Twilight sideways. The two grappled with fistfuls of each other’s tunics. The captain’s dagger lay just within reach of the man and both were almost blind to its very presence, so focused on keeping the other one down. Twilight got his hand around the captain’s throat and pressed down until Warriors’ cries of fury were nothing but a gasp. The rancher brought his forehead into the captain’s nose with a sickening crunch! As he did, Warriors blindly found the knife through little more than offhanded luck and he drove it up .
Pain flowered through the front of Warriors’ face, blood coating his throat as the ache brought tears to his eyes. His front teeth throbbed, his vision blurred. He suddenly felt air in his lungs again and as he swallowed it down, the blood which came with it made his stomach turn.
Twilight gasped, eyes widening in shock. There was an icy burn in his belly, warmth following it. It was wet– soaked –and his fingers found the hilt of the dagger. Dumbly, Twilight’s eyes fell to the blade buried in his belly. It’d broken through his chainmail, the impact having taken the tip of the knife off entirely and that little shard of silver was stained with blood where it lay on the ground. The rest of the blade was in Twilight’s body . His chest heaved, forcing a surge of blood up from his stomach, staining his tongue and teeth and dribbling down his chin. Warriors took Twilight by the hair and threw him aside. The captain pulled the knife, and plunged it in again , the broken tip gouging through the chainmail.
Twilight gasped in surprise, the beastliness gone from his gaze. There was only anguish, betrayal, grief . And it was all for the captain. Whatever thing possessed the captain, it recoiled from the curl of guilt that lashed out at his little brother’s expression. He spit on the rancher’s face, one of his teeth clattering to the ground.
“ No !” Wild bellowed.
Face gray, grief stricken, the champion pulled a Lizal boomerang and snapped it at the captain. It moved faster than Warriors could even realize it was coming for him and the captain yowled in pain as the boomerang’s razor sharp edge cut the side of his head open. He reached up to grasp the deep wound, ducking as the boomerang returned overhead and back to the champion’s hand. Blood flooded Warriors’ hands, his sweat burning the deep gash.
Time tackled the captain, holding him down to the dirt. “ Enough! ” he yelled.
Sprite’s voice! Sprite!
“No!” Warriors implored. “Don’t listen to them! They’re lying ! It’s dangerous !”
Time grabbed the captain by his chest plate and slammed him into the ground. Warriors choked on his blood, tossing his head as he vomited a bellyful of blood and hate back up onto the ground. As he wheezed, the curtain of madness began to draw. What it revealed wasn’t victory or even satisfaction, but misery .
“Cap’n,” Wind hissed, sliding to his knees at Warriors’ side. “That’s enough–snap out of it.”
Warriors felt tears well in his eyes. He writhed underneath Time. He was protecting them, but they sounded so angry with him! Wind’s voice was stern, Time’s was so thoroughly devoid of affection altogether–
“You’re done ,” Time snarled.
“No,” Warriors whimpered. “No! You don’t understand! He tried to–”
“I said you’re done! ” the eldest hero screamed.
His anger was enough to silence the forest against the swollen heat of his temper. It smothered everything, snuffing out all the vibrancy in the world to let a silence follow. Warriors shuddered, face red with exertion. Fat tears fell from his eyes and in horror, he found himself staring at the fury in Time’s white eye.
“...sprite,” Warriors choked. “Sprite! I–” Warriors’ face shadowed in realization. He twisted his head in denial. “Nononono–”
Time released the captain, satisfied that the episode was over. He turned his head over his shoulder to see Wild cradling Twilight. The champion’s face was pale, his hands covered in the rancher’s blood. Hyrule had his hands to Twilight’s belly, filling him with life magic.
“Give him a potion,” Time ordered Wind coolly.
The eldest got up from the captain, leaving Warriors feeling abandoned. Time strode to Wild and Twilight, crashing down alongside the champion. Wild shuddered, bowing his head with silent shakes of his shoulders. Time had never been so angry in his life–he wasn’t even sure he could call it anger.
Wind stayed back with Warriors, fishing a potion from his bag. “Here cap’n,” he said briefly. “Drink this–you’re losing too much blood.”
Warriors blubbered, sitting upright at Wind’s urging. His hands were too shaky to manage the potion bottle, too wet with blood and sweat, so Wind opened it for him and tipped it up to the man’s lips. The captain felt pathetic, wormlike. Warriors swallowed down two mouthfuls. The gash in his head healed, the bruising around his neck faded, and the crushed bone of his arm mended. Blood still settled heavy in his stomach, exhaustion soaking him with nausea.
He lifted his gaze to the others. If they weren’t focused on Twilight or Legend, they were watching the captain. There was apprehension in their faces, anger behind their eyes. Warriors wanted to cut open his own skin and slither out and grovel at their feet for an ounce of goodwill he could convince them to spare. Wind had a hand on Warriors’ back and the sailor was talking but through his anguish, Warriors was deaf.
The captain bowed forward, grasping his hair. He pressed his head to the ground, a grief stricken, panicked keen leaving him like a banshee. They weren’t in his era and yet, the war still hunted him like a dog.