Work Text:
Evening came with all the graces of a new born deer. It was cool, the birds sang their encores loud and bold. The pine trees shifted and shivered in the cool autumn air as they shook off a sharp piney aroma that tickled Hyrule's nose. Gravel crunched under his feet as he walked close behind his traveling group of heroes.
The sounds of his footsteps were irregular, at that. For, with each bend of his knee, agony writhed under his knee pit. It felt like the cartilaginous pad between his bones had been rubbed raw, virtually non-existent—as the pain seized him. Nevertheless, he was determined to not let his pain slow the group down. Not if he could help it—and he was upright! And walking! He could definitely help it.
Hyrule had been developing joint pain for years. It started subtle: little aches and pains, sometimes a sharp momentary snapping pain in his knuckles. But, over time, it quickly grew in ferocity. Suddenly and randomly, his knee would totally lock up—like now—or his shoulder would go on strike, or they'd swell a little. It quite reminded him of Arthritis, but that was an adult's disease. Hyrule was young! He turned 17 very recently.
The joint pain, he could tolerate. It would suck, and sometimes it really did feel like he scrubbed his skin raw with a hot coal, but he could do it. He's faced way worse, and there wasn't any bleeding to see. He got used to it, it really wasn't that bad anymore.
No, he just couldn't tolerate the looks. Not every member of their group noticed, at first. First, it was Four. Every once and awhile, he'd gaze back at Hyrule with tightly knit brows and a confused frown. Hyrule was sure he thought he was subtle with it, too, but he wasn't. That was fine, though, it seemed as though the Smithy noticed everything. That was bound to happen.
Then, it became a marching precession. Even Wild noticed, and Wild could be quite socially obtuse at times. By now, it was starting to get humiliating. Hyrule wasn't lame, he was perfectly fine.
Time came to a stop, with Warriors at his side. He let out a sigh that carried what felt like thousands of years of exhaust. He started to strip off his armour as he spoke,”alright boys, we are low on supplies, and the moon is rising. We should gather supplies and set up camp here.”
Hyrule tried not to let his relief show.
“We're gonna split into groups. The old man and the rancher'll work on setting up camp, I want the Champion scouting ahead to the west to ensure that nothing is nearby; Vet, you can take the east,” Warriors called, his voice clear and unwavering. Like a true commander. “Sky and the Sailor can search for firewood and forage, Traveller and Smithy will go fishing.”
Hyrule perked his ears. At first, he hadn't heard the river. He wasn't sure how; it was close by, and it gurgled playfully. He could hear the water lap against smooth weathered cobble, could smell the faint smell of soggy plant decay. He tuned out the rest of what Warriors had said—it wasn't really about him anymore—and groaned internally. More work…great golden goddesses.
His stomach rolled uncomfortably. Why am I so lazy? It's just fishing!
Four gave him a solid pat on the back as he passed. He worked his hair into a ponytail, with his headband to tie it all back.
The smithy was…an odd person, to say the least. Hyrule understood him the least out of their group; the way he held himself always alternated inconsistently, and his memory was so laughably poor it really made Hyrule feel for the guy. But, Hyrule cherished his company the most. He wasn't too quiet, funny and easy to talk to, but down to earth enough to talk about some pretty serious conversations for hours on end.
But, conversely, he was also quite sharp, and the grin he gave Hyrule could only carry with it the promise of something.
They wove through the dense undergrowth, to stop by the muddy-looking river. The surface was green and translucent, with a low underwater fog that cheekily revealed mere glances at the cobbled riverbed. A tree had fallen some long time ago, near where the two boys broke the treeline, and created an algae slickened bridge to the other side. The river was also quite thick as it cut a harsh line through the forest, hardly shaded by the withering canopy above.
Four set his bag down at the bank. He took his makeshift fishing rod and saddled the hook with a wriggling worm. He tested the line before he casted it wide, just barely managing to get it to land into the water. He gave Hyrule an abashed smirk, “I meant to do that.”
Gosh even his voice was inconsistent at times. Sometimes it was normal—flat, slightly deep and oaky. But other times, it jumped in pitch; high, bassy or sometimes low and languid. It was strange; today it was quite high.
Hyrule chuckled, “yeah man, I'm sure you did—let me show you how a real man casts his rod—fishing…rod….”
Hyrule's face coloured as Four burst into crowing laughter. He set a jig into his hook—it was a little fuzzy yellow swim jig—and cast it wide, just as Four did. Jokes on Four, though, he was using a worm, he didn't need to cast it as far.
Hyrule jerked his line and cast it slowly in. The point of a swim was to make it look alive, to make it enticing to fish. The line dipped and groaned with weight as a fish took a bite, and his hand snapped to the reel. He pulled the rod back, to try and tug the fish forward, when his shoulder suddenly exploded with pain.
Now, Hyrule was a hero. He's beaten a demonic cult. He was not going to lose to a fish. So, naturally, he chose to fight on, even if his enemy was aided by his own two-timing body.
Thankfully, the fight was hard won. He dragged the fish against the gravel, watching it flop uselessly on the ground. Before he took the fish—a common Hyrulean Stone Bass—he massaged his shoulder with a tight wince.
“Are you, like, okay?” Four asked worriedly. Hyrule grunted.
“I'm fine, I musta reeled back the rod wrong,” he answered, tone clipped. He tried to physically wave Four off, but the padding between his joints felt as though they'd disappeared, and his bones ground painfully against one another. Four, surprisingly, didn't seem too convinced.
“That was, like. Perfect form, traveller," Four argued, unimpressed. “If I did that I—actually, I might be a bad example.”
That caught Hyrule by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Well geez,” Four's voice dipped down a few octaves, flat and entirely unamused, “I have arthritis? Duh. My body's always telling me to kill myself.”
What?
“No you don't—arthritis is for, like, old people,” Hyrule frowned. Zelda had told him Arthritis only occurs in the elderly—Four was younger than him! Well…by a year, but one year is fairly significant!
That caused Four to look away from his cast. He gave Hyrule an incredulous look. “Are you….no? I mean--it's more common in the elderly, but Arthritis can develop in your youth, too!”
“It…can…?” Hyrule distractedly took his bass and stabbed it in the head. This was….
“Yeah!” Four suddenly lit up, shoulders straightening, “I have juvenile idiopathic arthritis. But—even infants can get it, that would be early on-set arthritis.”
Hyrule didn't reply at first. He just let Four continue, as his confusion folded in on itself. Realisation wasn't dawning on him, no, it was exploding in his face.
“I thought you knew-I mean, you clearly have it,” Four babbled on, unaware he was tearing Hyrule's world apart with his bare hands, “I mean, it's textbook osteoarthritis—your knees lock up, they irritated or red—I noticed you were limping because your knee locked up…did you seriously not know?”
“Was I supposed to?” Hyrule asked defensively. He frowned when the Smithy gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Well, probably not, actually. I guess it might be common knowledge to me, but not…to everyone else” he hummed. He reeled in the worm—no bites—and set his rod down, instead of recasting. “I was really worried though, y'know? You know we'd absolutely be happy to take breaks if you need them.”
“We never take breaks,” Hyrule pointed out. You definitely haven't gone this long without a flare up, if you're anything like me. To his surprise, Four's face twisted uncomfortably.
“Uh, well. That's—I never asked for one. I need to get better with that, I guess,” Four admitted. “My point is—its okay to take breaks. It's okay to slow down sometimes. We literally aren't going anywhere in particular, all this travelling is so useless and plain. What, exactly, are we missing out on?”
Four had a good point. They really didn't have an end goal in mind. Through all their adventures, they always had somewhere they meant to go. But, this adventure had felt like trying to walk toward the sun on an overcast day.
Hyrule frowned. He hated that Four had a point, he didn't want to be useless.
“Hey, Traveller, do you think I'm useless?” Four asked suddenly, “you have a Look, I want to see something.”
“No? Absolutely not!” Hyrule protested immediately. Four was their smithy, he fixed all their weapons, he forged Wild a new sword from scratch. He was resourceful and intelligent, part of the glue that stuck the team together.
“Disability doesn't make you useless, it's another hurdle in life we have to get through each and every day, sometimes multiple times a day,” Four started, tone awfully similar to the Old Man's, “living life is sorta like riding a horse! Eventually, the horse gets tired of jumping over so many hurdles, sometimes it just needs to rest, and disabled horses need to rest a little more often. That's okay! We all get to the same place anyway.”
“...death?” Hyrule joked weakly. Four scowled.
“Sure, death. Yeah, dead disabled horse heaven, sure,” despite his flat tone, Four smiled. He stared at the fish Hyrule had caught and bled. “We should get back to fishing—if we bring back one singular fish I think the captain will give me a visible disability to match my three invisible ones!”
Hyrule elbowed Four with a shit-eating grin. “Hey, your name'll mean something!”
It took Four a moment to process that. When he did, he snickered, “is my sword a roach? Should I tell her she means nothing?”
“Tell your sword whatever you want, I didn't say anything,” Hyrule quipped back. He slipped the swim jig out from the bass’ mouth and cast it out to the river. His knees hurt, and his shoulders groaned in protest as well. Nevertheless, he was fishing with his brother. That made it well worth it.