Chapter Text
Medoh soared above the Village, the whirrs of machinery only just audible. Purah really had done an excellent job restoring the ancient technology in the beast.
If only he could pilot without the pest on board, sitting on HIS beast’s wing.
“So…looks like I found a way up here on my own.”
Revali pursed his lips, focussing on tilting the console to feel for the steering. Really, moving Medoh felt more sacred than a steering wheel conveyed. It was like they were connected - destined to unite in pursuit of good.
It made Revali feel proud.
Finally. A giant, visual reminder that he was, in fact, meant to be here.
Revali smiled.
Running a wingtip across the sandstone of the console, he hummed in thought. Admittedly, it was a blow to his ego when Link STOLE the draft of his Gale and floated up to HIS Divine Beast...but really, he was already over it.
The joy and satisfaction of having his own ancient battle machine that spoke to him was way damn better than whatever Link was trying to do. Sure, it was no Master Sword, but it was like a friend. An ally.
Not that the word “ally” was synonymous with “friend”.
Blech.
“Revali.”
“Hm? What?”
“You’re not you.”
Deadpan, he turned to the Hylian, taking note of the bastard’s sassy stance. Hands on hips and everything. Ugh.
“Is it because I’m not giving you the time of day, Link ?”
“Yeah,” Link chuckled in surprise, “It might be. What got into you? Threat of the world ending? Or do you like me now?”
Revali narrowed his eyes. “Maturity, actually.”
“Ohh, that’s rich.” Link snickered, moving to stand beside him at the console. His eyes scanned the ancient markings and buttons, pausing to linger on the SOS signal. The energy grew thick with something Revali hoped wasn’t pity.
It sure felt like pity.
“Do not touch anything.” he mumbled, trying to break the tension.
Link held his hands in surrender. “Wasn’t gonna. It’s a nice machine.”
“She’s beautiful, yes.”
“She?” Link raised a brow, “We’re naming it and stuff?”
“We aren’t doing anything. I am simply being affectionate to my battle ally.”
“That’s a first.”
“Jealous?”
“Terribly.”
Revali snorted under his breath. Link looked at him. “Did you just laugh? At my sarcasm? My joke?”
“Ugh, don’t let it go to your head. It’s big enough.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Revali gave him a look.
Link shrugged, grinning.
Maybe Link wasn’t so bad.
Revali nearly threw up registering that thought, but the serenity from Medoh, his newfound pride and joy, had put him in a much-needed good mood.
And unfortunately, Link could tell.
“Happy now that you’re able to pilot, yeah?” he asked, strangely genuine. It seemed he picked up on that, clearing his throat and adding, “It’s no sword, but you know.”
“At least my Medoh’s not compensating for somethiiiing.” Revali sang, tilting the console. Link hit his arm.
“Whatever.” Link scoffed, fighting a small smile. “Before we fight Ganon, I guess I want you to know I’m glad you’re not trying to fucking kill me every 30 seconds.”
Revali rolled his eyes. “I’m touched .”
“Yeah, there’s a first time for everything.”
It was Revali’s turn to hit him.
<—-->
The wind whistled through the long blades of grass, small white flowers bending to its will. That afternoon, Link reported back to Zelda for orders or advice.
She had given him a look. A look where her eyes softened, and her eyebrows did that familiar furrow of guilt.
She sent him home. To farewell his home.
Of course, those weren’t her words, but the pity bleeding through her stare was enough to tell Link that she was either pretty sure Hateno could be damaged, or pretty sure he could die.
Both were possible these days.
So now Link stood, safe inside his Hateno cottage, inhaling the scent of wood and gardenia. He hated letting his emotions bubble to the surface - let alone during war preparation - but being back home seemed to tug them out of him.
Eyebrows furrowed, Link flexed his fingers by his side.
Photo frames. Wooden plates stacked beside the pot he adored cooking with. Bundles of wheat and rice stashed on an oak shelf. The coat rack hanging onto his patchy jacket from 3 summers ago. Bits of hay tracked in near the door. Cerise’s desolate stable outside, now inhabited by a tiny bird’s nest.
So full, but so empty.
Link found comfort in community, he did, but since moving to the castle, surrounded by bustling servants and guards…
He craved the familiarity of solitude more than ever.
He missed wandering the plains of Hyrule, venturing to every corner of the world he could find. Bringing souvenirs or produce to friends and riding Cerise for weeks, showing her the waterfalls of Faron, and sandstone of Gerudo.
Knighthood was his honour. His destiny.
And Zelda had become family.
But sometimes?
Sometimes Link missed being Link.
Exhaling sharply, he blinked the unwelcome sting from his eyes, marching to the dining table to replace the flowers at its centre.
He wished he had some sort of safflina, or Silent Princess, but due to how busy he’d been, the best he could gather were blue nightshades.
Zelda had once told Link he reminded her of nightshades. She’d laughed that day; “I wouldn’t be surprised if you shone blue in the dark, too, with those eyes.”
Link chuckled through his nose, fondly shuffling the nightshade buds.
His ears twitched. A scuffle from outside. A bird?
No.
Larger.
…A larger bird.
Confused, (and unwilling to jump to conclusions), Link turned, squinting out the window.
He could hear grass crunch just tenderly enough to be beneath talons. He swung open the door.
With a yelp, none other than Revali jumped, instinctively swatting Link across the head. He didn’t bother to dodge. “Gods, must you appear like that!?”
“You’re the one sneaking around my house.” Link replied, rubbing his head. “How did you get here?”
Revali smoothed his feathers. “You’re terrible at covering your tracks.”
Link folded his arms.
“Tch...fine. I asked the villagers.”
“I figured. …Why?”
“Would you believe me if I said I was bored and needed a victim?”
“No. Are you upset about packing up your home?”
“No.” Revali peered behind the Hylian. “You lived here? Before the castle?”
“Dodged the question.” Link muttered, opening the door for him and beckoning him inside. The Rito rolled his eyes, talons clacking across the wood planks. His eyes wandered, scanning the small home from floor to ceiling. Link shut the door, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Revali ran a wingtip across the table, clicking his tongue. “When was the last time you cleaned?”
“What is this, an inspection?” Link watched him crouch to analyse the table. “I haven’t lived here for years.”
“Years?” Revali’s eyes widened. “I thought you were appointed knight this year?”
Link moved to sit on the edge of the table (much to Revali’s dismay.) “I don’t remember the last time I was…a regular Hylian.”
“What, Hylia just called you one day and said, ‘Fancy a change of plans?’”
“Kind of.”
Revali almost softened, standing up. “Oh.”
“Everything changed when I held the Master Sword. I’d always been spiritual but it was so incredibly strong, and…” he shrugged. “His Majesty had heard of my skills before my destiny, so I was already in training. Things fell straight into place.”
“How on Earth did you transition?” Revali asked with a smirk. “You’d be a mess.”
“I was. I was happy, though.”
“Oh, don’t lie.”
“I’m not. I like being a knight. I love it, I do. But you really get tired of the legend being hung over your head like a glorified death sentence. It weighs on the spirit.”
Revali hummed. “I suppose I relate to a semblance of that. But vice versa. Nobody thinks I’m the Rito Champion in the prophecy.”
“As if.”
“I’m serious!” Revali grimaced, hands on hips. “I train day and night, I create a power no other can yield, I tolerate idiots for the good of mankind, and Teba looks at me like a hatchling who they substituted in for a sports team!”
“You need curry rice.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Curry rice,” Link repeated, jumping up to search his kitchen bench. “It’s delicious. Soothes the soul. Soothes the, uh…insecurity.”
“Well then, I wouldn’t need it. I have no such thing.”
“I always knew you were soulless.”
“Not that, you buffoon. I have no insecurities.”
Link shut his cupboard doors. “The day you admit you’re imperfect - as we ALL are - is the day I will make you curry rice.”
“I’m not eating your rice.”
“Fine. I’ll eat it."
“With the bottomless pit you have for a stomach? I don’t doubt it.”
Link snorted.
Revali fought back a smile.
They locked eyes.
They laughed.