A Sword for a Shield

by Azure_Aeraki

Summary:

Everyone knew that the kingdom of Hyrule was nothing more than a myth, a literal faerie tale.

That is, everyone but the residents of Ordon, who have first-hand experience with a family of Fae from the cursed kingdom. All it took was one man’s kindness and now this tiny border village is stuck making regular deals with the Fae.

OR

The Fae Chain extort Ordon Village for free babysitting.

Everyone knew that the kingdom of Hyrule was nothing more than a myth, a literal faerie tale.

It was a cautionary tale for children, to scare them into respecting the gods. When an ordinary hylian man stood up to one of the most powerful gods, said god cursed him, all those who dared share his blood, the gods that aided him, and the entire kingdom. Once a people almost indistinguishable from humans, the hylians were cursed and transformed, becoming what would be known as the Fae. Unlike the benevolent fairies that healed the injured and sick, the Fae were powerful spell-weavers that were not restrained by kindness nor empathy. Unlike their smaller cousins, the Fae were cruel tricksters restricted only by a set of Rules they could not break. And now, a once peaceful land was cursed because of the actions of one man. Hyrule was sealed away by the gods themselves to keep the cursed hylians from harming their human neighbours and not a single Fae has been sighted since.

Or, at least, that was the tale told in Holodrum, Labrynna, Hytopia and the other surrounding countries. In the little village of Ordon, the tale is told a little differently.

In this tale, the hylian was a hero who fought against a dark god, but as he and his goddess sealed away the beast, the Demon God used his last breath to curse the kingdom he coveted. The hylian and his blood, while not directly responsible for the curse, became the only ones capable of breaking it. The gods sealed Hyrule away to protect the surrounding lands from the Demon God and the incarnations of his hatred that would follow the Fae forevermore. Chasms split the earth along the kingdom’s borders, a magic veil separating the fallen kingdom from the rest of the world, concealing the only paths in and out.

Supposedly, Ordon sat right next to one of these hidden paths. It is said, that when the road that passes by Ordona’s spring treks further than you remember, it is a sign that something malevolent has pierced the veil. Any who follow the path to a beautiful wooden bridge wreathed in vines and wildflowers, who then cross the chasm this bridge connects, are trapped within the fallen kingdom, never to return.

 The people of Ordon are taught from a young age to turn around if they see a path where a wall of stone should be. They are taught The Rules of the Fae, so that if they see someone they do not recognise, with pointed ears, eyes like a wild beast’s, teeth like daggers and wielding powerful, terrible magic, they may return to their family alive without being indebted to the trickster. Iron charms and bells are hung on doors, windows, and around the perimeter of the village. Ordon was purposefully built on a river with a single bridge that could be easily burnt. Red verbena and daises are woven into every bouquet and line every garden. In addition to their famous pumpkins and cheese, Ordon is also known for its production of various red berries and for the rowan and hazel trees that make up the surrounding woods.

Ordon believes the story to this very day and have taken every precaution against the Fae.

~*~

Rusl knew the story was nothing more than a legend. He had never been scared to stroll towards Ordona’s spring on the cusp of day and night. He was a young man of barely twenty years; he was too old for stories. Someone had to lock up the gate to Ordona’s spring every night, and he wasn’t going to let a fairytale scare him away from his job. Yes, his sword was made of iron, but that was simply the best metal a little border village like Ordon had available and he had grown up learning how to shape iron into all sorts of tools and trinkets. He was far more likely to use his iron blade to scare off a hungry wolf than to fight off the Fae.

And yet, that day, for the first time of many, Rusl would turn the corner and see a path past Ordona’s spring, leading to an ornate bridge that crossed a chasm.

A flurry of emotions flooded the young man’s brain. Mainly confusion and a healthy dose of fear. Then his mind returned to the tales. The bridge by itself was not dangerous, only if he crossed it would he never return. He quickly decided to lock the gate and escape back to the village, never to tell a soul of what he saw there. Mind made up, he practically sprinted to the gate and-

There was a person in the spring.

A long, hooded cloak made of golden fur was draped over broad shoulders but concealed everything else about the figure. The hulking silhouette the cloak created was truly impressive and Rusl wondered what beast had to have been slain to harvest such a luminous large pelt. The person was sitting in the shallows of the spring, filling glass bottles with the sacred water as fairies buzzed around their head, chiming pleasantly. It was a peaceful scene, or it would have been if Rusl hadn’t spotted the trail of bright red blood leading through the gate and to the very spot the person was sitting, only some of it washed away by the spring. A sword dripping in a black oily substance had been dropped onto the sandy shore; at least the stranger hadn’t contaminated the sacred grounds with whatever that was. For a moment, all sense left the Ordonian. He stood there, staring at the person’s back, all thoughts of quickly locking the gate and rushing home forgotten as he took in the strange sight.

Then, the figure’s head whipped around, dislodging the hood. A young man, no older than Rusl himself, with blond hair that framed his face and terror in his slit eyes, his pointed ears twitching at the smallest sound, stared at the Ordonian. A Fae. A Fae had crossed the veil and was sitting in Ordona’s healing spring surrounded by fairies and blood. The human and the Fae were frozen, both staring at each other, waiting for the other to show themselves as a threat.

A shrill cry broke the near silence. A child, no, an infant’s cry came from within the cloak. With a gentleness that didn’t belong to the owner of such a bloodied sword, the Fae broke eye contact, turned to the bundle of mossy grey fur on his lap and comforted the baby, first in a language Rusl didn’t recognise and then by humming a song so soothing, the human felt his fear melt away. The baby quieted once more and the Fae rose from the spring, the bundle in the crook of his arm.

With the Fae facing him now, Rusl could make out a green tunic beneath the golden cloak, paired with stained white trousers, scuffed brown boots and sturdy fingerless gloves paired with leather bracers. If the human just ignored the ears and the eyes, he could’ve mistaken the Fae for a common traveller. The bundle of fur was held protectively to his chest as the Fae took a single step forward and reached for the massive claymore, before seemingly reconsidering and using his free hand to draw the cloak around his body to conceal the baby. The movement seemed to snap Rusl out of whatever the Fae had done to him with his song, and Rusl drew his own iron blade, the metal singing as it was wrenched from it’s sheath.

Despite his expectations, of the Fae diving for the soiled blade and engaging in a deadly duel with the human in it’s path, the Fae remained frozen in place, merely staring in stony silence at the human swordsman. Perhaps, could the Fae sense the iron blade, did the Fae fear the burn of human innovation as the tales foretold? Did Rusl truly have the upper hand? He expected the Fae to speak instead, to use his silver tongue to outwit the human he could not beat. But no. The Fae was silent. He merely watched Rusl, his wild blue eyes, a blue as deep and hypnotising as the ocean depths, flicking from the swordsman to his own blade, a claymore with a sky-blue hilt, then to the bundle in his arms. Maybe, Rusl thought, the Fae was usually the type to attack but felt he couldn’t while holding his precious cargo.

A terrible thought suddenly crossed Rusl’s mind. That fur bundle most certainly held a young babe, but was it a Fae child or a human child? Had this creature already snuck into Ordon, dodged all their measures in protecting their little town and taken a human child? Had this monster already left a changeling in a newborn’s cradle and Rusl had caught the Fae making their escape?

Whatever this creature’s goal, whatever they had come here to do, Rusl knew he had to be careful. One wrong word and his life, and maybe that child’s, could be forfeit…

Thinking over his words very carefully, Rusl asked, “What are you doing in Ordona’s Spring?”

The Fae’s head tilted in confusion, much like the sheep dog Fado was trying (and failing) to train. “Are humans truly as blind as the legends say? Surely the answer to your query is obvious.”

Rusl twitched, the tip of his sword bouncing. That was… quite rude for someone supposedly bound by the rules of politeness, “Let me remind you that you stand in Ordon, my home-”

“On the contrary, we both stand in Ordona’s home, and they have been a wonderful host.” There was an irritated edge to the Fae’s voice.

Rusl mentally cursed himself. If they were truly standing on neutral ground, then most of The Rules did not apply. There was nothing stopping this Fae from hurting him except the baby they held. Rusl ached to rush back to Ordon, sound the alarm and call for back-up, but he couldn’t leave the Fae in the sacred spring; the entrance back into Hyrule was right around the corner and he feared if he took his eyes off the Fae for even a second, the creature would either flee back into his realm or blend into the surrounding woods. The tales said that the Fae had a connection to nature, that the forests bowed to their command. The best course of action was to keep the Fae here, in a sacred spring belonging to one of the Great Light Spirits.

Despite all this, the Fae still did not pick up his weapon. A battle of words it was then!

He knew that the Fae were always compelled to tell the truth. They could not outright lie, but they could omit details and use fancy words to talk around their true meaning. So, what had the Fae said so far? He had insulted Rusl, implying he was blind for having no idea why the Fae was in the spring…

Rusl looked over the facts again, his eyes flicking between the trail of blood and the concealed babe. For the first time, the human noticed the tear and the red blood stain on the Fae’s tunic, revealing a rapidly healing scar, the remains of a stab wound that the healing spring water was still in the process of stitching back together. A chest wound of that size would not kill the Fae immediately, rather if it had not been treated, they would have slowly, agonizingly bled out.

“You came here to heal.” Rusl guessed.

“That is correct.” The Fae responded.

Wait. If the Fae had already been wounded by someone in Ordon, say perhaps, a distraught mother trying to protect their babe, surely he would have known. The alarms would have been raised; he would have heard them even this deep in the forest. So, did that mean the Fae had been wounded before he reached Ordon? Rusl’s eyes focused on the dropped claymore, the black substance starting to stain the sand. The substance smelt like iron, like blood and it made sense for the blade to be covered in blood if the Fae had used it to defend himself from whatever had wounded him, so it had to be blood, right? This Fae clearly bled red, so it wasn’t Fae blood on the blade… So what was it?

“Who or what wounded you? Are they a threat to Ordon?” Rusl finally spoke.

“That would be the latest incarnation of the Demon God’s hatred. They are a threat to all that is good in this and any world.”

This Fae was being much more forthcoming than Rusl expected them to be. While there was a lilt to the man’s voice and a rhythm to his words, as if he was reciting a riddle, the answer was practically spelt out for him every time. And this talk of the Demon God… hopefully that meant that Ordon’s version of the myth was the truth, and he could continue to use the tales as a guide in this strange standoff.

“Are they coming to attack Ordon?”

“They are drawn to those who bear our curse.” The Fae’s face was pained, and his gaze dropped to the bundle in his arms. “All who share my brother’s blood are their targets, until we slay the extension of the Demon God that thirsts for our blood. From the moment we are born, we are their target.”

So, this Fae was a ‘brother’ to the original holder of the curse; literally as well, taking the ‘sharing my brother’s blood’ part into account. And the babe in his arms… Had he been wrong this whole time? “Is that baby related to him as well?” Rusl dreaded the answer, but he needed confirmation.

The Fae tightened his hold around the bundle, his body tensed as if he was bracing for an attack. “…He is my son.”

The picture was becoming clear in Rusl’s head. “…You were wounded protecting your son.”

The Fae just nodded.

Well… this was unexpected. The moment he had seen that this was no ordinary man, he had been prepared for the worst. He’d considered fighting this Fae to the best of his ability, potentially even slaying them on holy ground. The stories said that the Fae used half-truths and vague statements to coax humans into saying something to their detriment, and yet this Fae had only answered his questions. They said that the Fae were cruel, but this man overflowed with love for the son he was so desperate to protect. Maybe… maybe this Fae didn’t have any bad intentions? Maybe he had known about the spring’s healing properties and its tendency to attract smaller faeries, and the man was just so desperate for a safe place to heal, he had crossed the veil. Still, this could all be a trick of some sort. He couldn’t completely let his guard down, but maybe it would be a better idea to continue this discussion without the threat of violence…

Against his better judgement, Rusl slowly lowered his sword.

Only for a piercing shriek to echo through the air. The two men went rigid, the inhuman roar freezing them to their very cores. The Fae’s ears twitched, seemingly tracking something Rusl could not hear. “They have found the veil.”

The Fae picked up his blade, the claymore as long as he was tall (and by Ordona was he tall!) and moved to walk past Rusl. The human swordsman scrambled to raise his sword again, but the Fae merely glided past, an action as simple as walking carried out with inhuman grace. The Fae’s cloak flared out behind him as he passed, reminding the human that this man was still holding an infant, when he was clearly about to slay whatever had made that terrible noise.

“Wait! You intend to bring your son into battle!?” Rusl protested, a thread of panic in his voice.

The father stopped and looked back at the human with an indignant expression, but he couldn’t completely mask the pain in his eyes. “What other choice do I have, human?”

To this day, Rusl has no idea why he said what he said next. He had not known this person, a dangerous villain from a fairytale, for even the length of a proper conversation. A minute ago, he had been convinced the Fae was going to kill him or kidnap one of the village children. Perhaps this Fae, in completely shattering the man’s expectations, had also broken his mind.

Rusl answered the Fae’s rhetorical question, “To leave him here, with me.”

Those piercing slit eyes pinned Rusl in place, his icy blue glare scrutinizing every inch of the human man before him. For the first time, Rusl saw the Fae’s teeth, just too sharp to be considered human, as they were bared at him in barely restrained anger. “Do not play me for a fool, human. I can practically smell your ulterior motives. What is your plan? Is this a ploy to rid this world of another ‘monster’? Do you wish to plunge that sword through his heart the moment my back is turned!?”

“What? No-!”

“Then you intend to swap my son with a human child, turn my pup into a Changeling!”

“No, no, no, I don’t even have any children! Why would I do that!?”

“Then this is a ploy to extort a debt from me. You want something in return for keeping my pup safe! You wish to control me!”

Rusl didn’t get a chance to rebuke that accusation. It seemed their argument was loud enough to wake the baby as a watery cry interrupted the men. The Fae turned his attention to soothing his son once more, giving Rusl a chance to think over his words carefully.

He couldn’t exactly deny that last accusation, not without lying anyway, which the Fae would be able to detect. Sure, he wasn’t thinking about The Rules when he offered to look after the baby, but it would be idiotic to turn down such an opportunity if it was given to him. To have the Fae in his debt. He could use that leverage to ask for the Fae’s True Name, and once he had that, such a powerful man would be at his beck and call. Just the thought was simultaneously nauseating and thrilling. If their roles were reversed, Rusl wouldn’t trust him either…

The baby quieted as his father’s soothing voice washed over him. While the Fae was no longer shouting at the human – the fight drained out of the man the moment his child needed him – Rusl could still see the distrust in the tense set of his shoulders and the doubt in his frown.

His voice was resigned as Rusl asked, “Is it so hard to believe I want to help you out of the goodness of my heart?”

When the Fae finally dragged his eyes away from his child’s and met Rusl’s gaze, the human could not ignore how tired the other man looked. “Between humans? Of course you help one another. But the Fae are never that simple…”

No wonder being turned into the Fae was considered a curse. When every action, every word could be used against you, no wonder this man wasn’t willing to trust him.

So, Rusl watched in silence as the Fae reached into the furs, revealing his son’s head. He shared the same pointed ears and deep blue eyes as his father. The baby leaned into his father’s touch as the Fae ran his hand through his son’s dirty blond hair. Soon enough, the child yawned and fell back into slumber.

There was a long moment of quiet between the two men. The whistle of the breeze in the leaves above, the trickling of the water of the spirit’s spring and the chiming of the fairies filled the air, the only sound that dared to break the silence. No animals joined the symphony, despite the multitudes of bugs and birds that called these woods home. The spring that Rusl had known all his life had never felt so foreign. Despite the reassurance that they stood in Ordona’s home, on neutral ground, Rusl couldn’t help but think that he was at a disadvantage, should one of them break the tentative truce they had stumbled into. Nature itself seemed to weave itself around the Fae, shielding him in it’s embrace. Rusl’s gaze locked onto a collection of leaves flittering on the wind in a perfect circle around the man before they fluttered to the soil beneath their feet. It was then that Rusl realised that the man had not trailed footprints through the soft sand when they had passed each other earlier, but perfect pawprints larger than the soles of the Fae’s shoes. Rusl risked another glance at the Fae’s eyes and saw those of a predator, those wild slit eyes assessing the human before him in a way that sent shivers down the man’s spine. Did this magical being view him as prey? Or was there something else in those blue depths? Something dangerous, but controlled. Something piercing, but also fearful. Something calculated, but desperate-

The Fae broke eye contact, looking back down at his son and Rusl was tempted to sigh in relief.

Rusl was beyond uncomfortable. What had he been thinking, trying to offer a favour to such a dangerous trickster that could probably kill him with a look!? Just as he opened his mouth to take back the offer, the Fae locked eyes with him again, this time with a determined glint in his eyes that Rusl could not mistake for anything else.

“Human. I wish to make a deal with you.”

Rusl suddenly felt as if the air was pressing down around him. There was sheer power radiating from those words. Something about the Fae’s presence shifted, the visage of a battle-hardened traveller melting away until Rusl couldn’t mistake the being before him as anything else but a creature of legend. As far as he could tell, nothing about the Fae physically changed and yet suddenly Rusl felt like an ant about to be squashed by a boot. Maybe the Fae’s clothes had brightened, repaired themselves and were a little more pristine, free from dirt and blood and dry after his dip in the spring. Had the fur cloak always looked so… seamless on the Fae? As if the pelt was a second skin and at any moment Rusl was about to witness the beast that shed it. Maybe the Fae was glowing ever so slightly in the evening gloom. Maybe the Fae had grown a little taller from uttering those words. Were his words echoing, overflowing with magic, or were Rusl’s ears ringing from all the stress? Maybe the Fae hadn’t changed at all and Rusl’s mind was playing tricks on him as it tried to comprehend the being before him. He didn’t know anymore. Nothing else mattered other than the Fae’s voice.

“Those beasts will soon break through the veil as they attempt to cut my son’s life short. Once they have finished with him, they would not hesitate to destroy you and the rest of the village you hold so dear. This is my offer, human; In exchange for slaying the monsters that wish to do you harm, you will allow no harm to befall my son. You will protect him with your very soul. When I have completed my end of the bargain, I will return to Ordon Village to collect my son and if I judge that you have not fulfilled yours, I will raze your little settlement far more thoroughly than those beasts could ever hope to do so. Do you understand these terms?”

Rusl won’t lie, he was terrified of the Fae again. The utter vitriol in his voice as he threatened the human would’ve been enough to terrify the bravest man in all the land. But as Rusl’s mind whirred and sputtered at the onslaught to his senses, he suddenly understood why the Fae was doing this. This was the Fae’s way of accepting Rusl’s kindness without needing to trust the man, and without putting himself in the human’s debt. By using The Rules to bind their words, he could create a semblance of trust where no sane man would ever trust naturally.

Rusl took a deep breath, willing his heart to stop hammering against his ribcage and replied succinctly. “If I protect your son for you, you will protect Ordon from the beasts. I understand and accept those terms.”

The Fae held out a hand to shake. Rusl hesitantly took it. “May we both be bound by the truth of our hearts. This promise shall be fulfilled.”

Rusl could do nothing but watch as his joined hand burned, the skin along his forearm glowing as the terms of the deal were seared into his skin. The burning was no worse than any accident he had endured in his forge, but the suddenness of the magic binding caused Rusl to flinch back in the Fae’s grasp. The Fae didn’t seem all that bothered as the same words were inscribed into his own arm, the glow shining from beneath the leather bracer he wore.

“A sword for a shield. One protection for another. I will raise my blade in Ordon’s name. You shall shelter my son. An equal exchange.”

After a moment, the Fae finally let go of Rusl’s hand and, before Rusl’s eyes, he returned to the mysterious worn traveller he was before.

Rusl couldn’t help but stare at his hand for a moment, not quite believing what he had just done, and yet there on his arm was all the proof he needed. He really had lost his mind…

“Already regretting our deal, human?” the Fae said with a teasing lilt.

Rusl snapped back to attention. It was tempting to try and return the Fae’s attitude, but then the human’s eyes fell back on the Fae child. The reason he had made such an impulsive decision in the first place.

“No. Not really.” Rusl replied, surprised at how steady his own voice was. The Fae frowned, a confused expression on his face that completely contradicted the image of the duplicitous trickster he supposedly was. “The deal is worth it to make sure your son is safe. He is innocent in all of this. He should not have to suffer because your brother stood up for what was right.”

Surprise flickered across the Fae’s face, before it was quickly replaced with a solemn expression. “That he is.” For the briefest of moments, the Fae squeezed the mossy grey fur bundle closer to his chest almost curling protectively around his son, before he suddenly straightened to his full height and loosened his hold, trying to project a confident unbothered façade. “So I expect you to treat him with the utmost care.”

Rusl slowly raised his arms to accept the baby Fae. “I promise.”

With great reluctance that he desperately tried to hide, the Fae carefully shifted the bundle of fur into Rusl’s arms. As if the babe sensed something was wrong, they stirred, blinking up at Rusl. He was worried that the infant was going to start crying again, but the Fae child just sleepily reached towards his father, babbling quietly. The Fae gently took the tiny little hand in his own, mumbling in that other language again before kissing his son’s forehead and reluctantly pulling away.

“He should return to sleep soon. If he doesn’t, any sort of calming music should help.” The Fae advised, still staring at the fragile babe longingly.

Rusl took a moment to think over his next question; he didn’t want it to be taken the wrong way, especially after their argument earlier. “How should I refer to your son? Is there a title or alias I can use that he will recognise?”

The Fae’s expression turned… almost impressed? Perhaps he appreciated Rusl’s tact in a matter so sensitive to his kind. After a moment, the Fae said, “He is the cusp of day and night, the hour in which worlds cross and magic flows. He recognises the title of Twilight.”

Just when Rusl thought he was done speaking, the Fae added, “I am the eternal cycle of the sun and moon. I am the passing of seconds, hours, days, years. I am the past, present and future. When I am required to give another a way of addressing me, I offer them the title of Time. May I ask for your title?” Rusl didn’t expect to be given a title by the Fae, but it was certainly welcomed. They were… odd titles and yet somehow, the fake names seemed to fit the pair perfectly.

Rusl couldn’t tell Time his given name, so on the spot, Rusl came up with, “You may call me Caretaker, as that is what I am to you and your son.”

Time nodded in approval, “Very well, Caretaker.”

Another monstrous howl cut through the air. Time drew his sword from his back (when had he put it away?) and backed out of the spring, keeping his son in his sight at all times. Rusl followed and glanced at the bridge through the veil. If he squinted, he could make out movement in the shadows of the woods on the other side. He quickly pulled the gates to the spring shut and locked them up; the flimsy wood most likely wouldn’t do much against whatever those beasts were, but he still needed to do something to protect Ordona.

Time spoke, “Return to your village. Barricade the path as best you can and do not remove the barriers until I come to collect Twilight.”

“Of course. Farewell, for now Time.”

The men shared a nod then ran in opposite directions, Time onto the bridge and through the veil, and Rusl back to his village, Twilight held close to his chest.

~*~

To say Ordon Village was surprised to see Rusl return with a Fae child in his arms, would be an understatement.

At first, Rusl made sure Twilight was hidden by the grey pelt as he smuggled the baby into his house, but he couldn’t exactly hide the child from his newly wed wife. He admitted everything that had transpired that evening to her, even showing her the deal burnt into his skin. The two worked together to make the Fae child comfortable, keeping him wrapped in the pelt, as it seemed to be a comfort object for him, but also placing him in a crib made of woven reads. Rusl had never been so grateful for his… overenthusiastic in-laws’ desire for grandchildren; they had more than enough supplies to care for an infant. And Twilight was an easy infant to care for. As Time had said, the babe had already fallen asleep again and the few times he stirred, he was rocked back to sleep by Uli and her soothing singing voice. In only a few hours, the couple had fallen into a routine.

But, in what felt like no time at all, there came a banging at their door. Rusl answered it to find Bo, sword in hand, on his doorstep. He was halfway through ordering Rusl to pick up his own blade and join him and some of the other village swordsmen to hunt whatever monster was screeching in the forest, when he saw Twilight. The older man froze as he registered first a mysterious baby, then the pointed ears and wild blanket he was swaddled in. Knowing that there would be no way to convincingly lie to his friend, Rusl repeated the story again, first to just Bo and then to the rest of the village when the young mayor called a village-wide meeting.

Some didn’t believe his story until he showed them the smouldering deal and the sleeping Fae child. Some immediately suggested killing the child in some vain hope that killing the monsters’ target would make them go back through the veil. Most of the village immediately shot those people down, either out of fear of Time’s retribution, or out of compassion for the defenceless baby. Eventually, it was decided that the village would do everything they could to protect Twilight, and the village militia would patrol the perimeter, in case Time couldn’t fulfil his end of the deal.

Uli and Rusl’s home was showered with gifts and company. Everyone wanted to make sure Twilight was well cared for, whether it was out of fear for the babe’s monstrous myth of a father, or out of genuine compassion. Bo’s wife, a lovely woman by the name of Aria, brought over their newborn daughter Ilia and gave Uli and Rusl tips for whatever they needed, although all three of them were uncertain whether human child-rearing advice would be suitable for a Fae child. Thankfully, Twilight spent most of the night sleeping and the babe seemed content and happy the few times he woke.

Anyone sensible locked their windows and bolted their doors. The militia set up spiked barriers (usually used to fence in Ordonian goats) down the path to Ordona’s spring as Time had commanded, before returning to their little town. From sun-up to sundown, brave men and women patrolled, swords at the ready at even the slightest sound. Ghastly screaks continued to occasionally echo through the night, however as the hours ticked by, they began to sound less and less victorious or intimidating, becoming mourning howls and shrieks of pain instead. The volume of these cries fluctuated throughout the night, sometimes sounding further away and sometimes sounding far too close for comfort. Some swordsmen stationed closer to the spring swore they saw the trees shivering in rage, hordes of animals running towards the chaos with teeth bared and giant blasts of bright light in the distance, but others equally close to the veil claimed to see nothing of the sort. No matter what, the militia did not let down their guard, determined to defend their friends and family.

As the sun rose above Ordon village and fought against the early morning mist swamping the settlement, something, or rather someone, entered the hamlet.

Three figures, swathed in bright cloaks of blue irises, red poppies and golden fur, materialized out of the fog a few paces away from Bo, who had been guarding the narrow pass at the entrance to the village. Startled, the man raised his sword, only for the figure in red, the person standing between his companions and the tallest of the three, to raise his hands in a placating gesture.

“Peace, stranger. We did not intend on frightening you.” recognising the musical lilt to the man’s voice from Rusl’s story, Bo lowered his sword.

Bo glanced between the three figures, all presumably Fae. “Which one of you answers to the title of Time?” he asked, careful with his phrasing.

The shortest one in blue suddenly whirled to stare at his golden companion, “You gave them your title!?”

Calmly, gold replied, “My True Name is still mine alone. Did you expect me to unnecessarily complicate the situation further when Twilight’s life was in jeopardy?”

Blue spluttered for a moment, “But- But they’re human!”

“So? The Caretaker was well-versed in The Rules and accepted my deal willingly.”

“And humans are fools! Nothing’s stopping them from hurting Twi, all your little deal does is give us permission to take revenge if they do!”

“The Caretaker was no fool. If he told the rest of the village, I trust that they are not fools either.” Gold lowered their hood, and Bo had to resist flinching back in horror. Time looked exactly how Rusl had described, except for the bandages wrapped around his head, covering the right side of his face and spotted with blood. “I am the one called Time. I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

“I do. I-I mean not me specifically, but the Caretaker lives around here, and he has yer kid.” Bo tore his eyes away from the injury, and shouted over his shoulder to the pillars of rock jutting out of the river where he knew Fado was stationed, “Hey, F-! Shit, no names… Hey, uh, Goatherder! Go grab the Caretaker!”

In the distance, he heard a reply muffled by the fog, “Grab who? Ru-”

Bo frantically cut him off, “No names dumbass! Tell the people taking care of the kid that the Fae are here to collect!”

After a beat, there was a drawn out “Ohhhhh…” of understanding before Fado ran off to fetch Rusl and Uli. Bo had the urge to scream in frustration but bit his tongue and turned back to the Fae.

Blue chuckled, “So the swine can be taught!”

Red instantly grabbed Blue’s shoulder and, even though Bo couldn’t see beneath the hood, he could feel the intense glare directed at the other Fae. After a moment, Blue shrank under Red’s gaze. With a sigh, Red retracted his hand and removed his hood. He and Time were remarkably similar; the same bright blond hair styled a little differently, the same face shape and jawline (although Time’s nose was noticeably pointier) and the same long pointed ears. First’s eyes, however, were a golden-brown colour, reminding Bo of the hawks that nested in the trees around their village. Their clothes were the main difference as Red had some golden chainmail under his green tunic and the red cloak that, before Bo’s eyes, morphed into a red scarf that sat upon the man’s shoulders, revealing a golden lion-shaped pauldron on his left shoulder and a sheathed ornate sword on his back. The hilt was a deep royal purple with green strips of cloth crisscrossing up the grip, a golden diamond embedded in the hilt, and Bo swore he saw the sword glow blue for a moment and release a delicate chime, but chalked it up to his exhaustion after guarding the village all night.

Red inclined his head to Bo, “Do forgive Warriors’ thoughtless comments. My brothers and I are tired after a long and taxing battle. We are also stressed from some… unforeseen complications.”

Warriors sighed and removed his hood also. Again, he looked remarkably similar to his brothers, other than his height, age and accessories. While the other Fae were clearly adults, Warriors was in the middle of his adolescent years. His blue cloak transformed into a scarf that sat loose around his neck then trailed down his back, so long it almost brushed the grass, some delicate embroidery down the tail. Poking out from beneath the scarf was the hilt of a silver sword, nowhere near as fancy as his older brother’s. Blue gloves matched the exact shade of the scarf. His chainmail was silver and was likely made of the same non-iron metal as the pauldron on his shoulder.

“First is right. That was childish of me. After all we’ve been through recently, I just don’t want anyone else hurt, especially my nephew. I took my anger and fear out on you, and you didn’t deserve that. I apologize for insulting you and the rest of the village.” Warriors inclined his head in a small bow, his voice genuinely remorseful. For a moment, Bo forgot that he was talking to a mystical monster from his bedtime stories and all he saw was a scared, stressed teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The apology was so sincere, Bo didn’t even think before saying, “Tis fine. Water under the bridge.” It wouldn’t be until later that morning, when he was more awake, that he realised he could’ve had Warriors in his debt if he hadn’t accepted the apology so quickly.

Any further conversation was cut off by a distant shout, “Leader!”

Bo didn’t realise Rusl was addressing him until the young man was running up to him, the bundle of grey fur in his arms. “There you are, Caretaker!”

With a nod, Rusl turned to the Fae and flinched back as he took in Time’s face. “Sweet Ordona! Time, what happened!?”

The man in questioned flinched slightly as he was addressed, his fingers twitching at his side, as if he had the urge to reach up and touch the bandages around his face. Despite his reaction, Time’s voice was surprisingly level “A series of unfortunate mistakes and a dash of bad luck.”

“But didn’t you collect water from Ordona’s spring? Do the sprites refuse to heal their faerie brethren?” Rusl had the sudden urge to grab the Fae by the arm and drag him to the spring in which they met. He resisted said urge, instead merely saying “We must take you to the spring, before you lose your eye!”

With a minute shake of his head, Warriors said quietly, “While we appreciate the thought, that is not necessary, Caretaker.”

“Of course it is!” Rusl argued, “I understand that you three do not have any reason to trust us humans, but not only could he lose his eyesight permanently, but if that wound is infected, it could be a matter of life and death!” he turned to Time, “Think of your son. Do not let your stubbornness deprive Twilight of his father!”

Time grit his teeth. “It is not a matter of trust. It is already too late…” With a heavy sigh, the man used an abnormally sharp nail to slice away the bandages wound around his head. While Rusl and Bo were still processing how casually Time used his fingernails like claws, the Fae pulled away the dirtied fabric and revealed a clean slice through his right eyelid, already healed into a stark scar. The war paint on Time’s face, two red slashes on his check and a navy-blue sword tip on his forehead, was also revealed and the bright markings seemed more than just decorative when they glowed softly in the limited light of that misty morning.

In lieu of an explanation, First said, “The gods have always fought over our family and one of them decided to cement their claim; beneficial in the moment, but troubling in the long term.”

Rusl and Bo exchanged a quick confused glance. Neither knew what to say to the Fae; this was a matter they had no experience in, after all. Ordona was the closest being the Ordonians had to a god or goddess, and she was known to give only blessings at no cost to her worshippers. But, considering the reason the hylians had been transformed into the Fae, it was easy to surmise that the gods and goddesses of Hyrule were likely more vindictive than the Great Light Spirits.

Aching to cut the tension, Rusl carefully manoeuvred the swaddled baby in his arms in order to give Twilight back to his father. As he did so, Twilight let out an excited noise and all three of the Fae were suddenly focused on the bundle of fur. “Regardless of what happened in between then and now, I believe someone wants to see you.” Rusl said gently.

Time’s remaining eye lit up in delight, and the man stepped forward to take Twilight from Rusl’s arms, only to hesitate as he was about to touch his son. For a moment that felt like years but was most likely only a few seconds, Time’s fists opened and closed in indecision, and a flicker of fear crossed the man’s face. Bo seemed to hold his breath upon noticing the Fae’s strange behaviour. Even Time’s brothers looked confused on why he hadn’t snatched his son back already, First tilting his head in confusion and Warriors leaning around his brother in order to try and decipher the look on Time’s face. Twilight let out another sound, almost like a giggle upon seeing his father, which seemed to snap Time out of whatever had overcome him. Then slowly, ever so slowly, the father delicately plucked his son from Rusl’s arms and shifted the bundle of fur into the crook of his arm. Time used his other hand to smooth back his baby’s hair and seemed surprised when his son let out what was certainly a babbling giggle and grabbed one of his father’s fingers in his little fist. Hearing his babe’s delighted laughter seemed to finally break the strange tension Time had been carrying and the man hugged his child close, curling around him with a choked sob.

First laid a hand on his little brother’s shoulders. “Time…?” he prompted gently.

Time sniffled and nuzzled his face against his baby’s forehead, hiding his tears in the fur and showering his babe in wolfish affection in one action. “I feared he would not recognise me…” he confessed.

“Pah! Please, the day your pup cannot recognise you, I’ll eat my scarf!” Warriors barked with a relieved laugh.

“Promise?” Time returned, with an amused smirk that couldn’t quite cover up the shake in his voice.

“Nope! I am not falling for that again.” Warriors scoffed, lightly nudging his older brother. “Time, you’re terrible!”

As the siblings laughed, Rusl relaxed, suddenly curious on the story behind that remark. Bo, on the other hand, was looking a little red from holding his breath so long. Rusl wondered if his friend would be capable of relaxing until the Fae were back on their side of the veil.

“Caretaker.” Time suddenly addressed Rusl. The Fae wiped a few stray tears from his face and cleared his throat. “It is time to fulfil our deal.”

Alright, maybe Rusl could understand Bo’s nervousness. Even while the man was fending off his child’s adorable attempts at grabbing at his father’s hair, Time made that statement sound incredibly ominous. Time held out the same hand he had used to seal their deal and Rusl slowly placed his burned hand in Time’s. Once again, magic radiated off of Time, as he spoke words more powerful than any spell.

“My brothers and I fended off the monsters that aimed to kill my pup and raze your village. You and the rest of Ordon have safely returned Twilight to my arms and have cared for him as if he was one of your own. Do you object to my judgment?”

“No.” Rusl replied, as confidently as he could, “Your judgment is accurate.”

“Then I declare our deal fulfilled.”

The burns along Rusl’s arm peeled off and floated along an intangible breeze like flower petals, dissolving into the air and glowing like embers, leaving unblemished skin in their wake. Time’s arm also glowed and something similar must have happened beneath the fabric covering his end of the deal. As the last ember faded away, Time returned to normal and let go of Rusl’s hand, the picture of a pleased father as he gave Twilight a finger to play with instead of his hair.

“A pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen. It was much easier to fight knowing our kin’s safety was secured.” First said, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched his two brothers fuss over his nephew.

“The pleasure was all ours.” Rusl returned.

First hummed in acknowledgement, his gaze looking over Ordon village before returning to the two humans. “Your village is so peaceful, despite it being so close to the veil.”

Rusl suddenly had a sinking feeling he couldn’t pinpoint. “Yes… It is.”

There was a weird smile on the eldest brother’s face. “It is isolated from the other human kingdoms, and yet it is rich in resources and right next to a source of healing. Your village is quite the sanctuary, if I may be so bold as to say so.”

“It is. We are quite fortunate.” Rusl replied stiffly.

First nodded. Then he said with a lilting tone, “I am the origin, the hero who stood up to the Demon God. The first of the Fae and the first of my family. I am the beginning, the original, the primogenial. For that reason, when I give others a way to address me, I give them the title of First.”

It wasn’t until the end of First’s speech that Rusl realised he was introducing himself in the way that Time did earlier.

His words caught the attention of his younger brothers and suddenly Warriors turned to Bo and Rusl and started speaking in that same serious and yet lilting tone of voice. “My life has always been defined by the blade in my hands and the shield on my back, in the comradery of allies and the thrill of the fight. I fight to protect those I love and the innocents who I do not know. I fight to eliminate evil and bring justice to those who are wronged. When I must provide others with an alias, I give them the title of Warriors.”

“…Why are you giving us your titles?” Rusl asked, hesitantly.

“Because you may need them.” Time replied simply, as if it was obvious.

Before Rusl or Bo could say anything, First spoke again. “We should be going; I am sure my sister-in-law is anxious to see her son again.” The three Fae turned to leave, scarves morphing back into hooded cloaks as the three brothers concealed their faces once more. With a light, airy, almost casual tone, First said, “Perhaps we will meet again someday…”

A gale suddenly tore through Ordon, playful and aggressive all at once, knocking certain people off their feet but mischievously dancing around others. Bo and Rusl were pushed backwards, a cry for the brothers to wait caught in Rusl’s throat as a torrent of bright green leaves obscured their sight and restricted their movement. As suddenly as the storm started, the wind died down, leaving the human village baffled.

The Fae were gone, leaving no trace behind besides the memories of the villagers.

Notes:

This fic has literally been years in the making and I'm so happy that it's finally finished! I've been wanting to write a Fae!Chain fic since I read some other Fae AUs in this fandom but writing Fae is pretty hard not gonna lie. A good fae AU needs to convey that slightly eldritch feeling that the fae have, while still keeping the characters recognisable and I'm finally satisfied with how Time, First and Warriors act. Any weird moments where they act a little too human I chalk up to the fact that these three weren't born Fae, they were cursed along with Hyrule and can remember what life was like before they were subject to The Rules, which is why they sometimes slip up or seem really bitter towards their lot in life. I'm not sure how well I'll be able to write the rest of the Chain once they grow up, since they'll all be born Fae and wont have that excuse...

Speaking of which, I'm going to leave this as a one-shot for now because even though I know vaguely where this fic is going, I'm not sure how long it'll take me to write/whether I'll write it at all. Just for reference, according to my laptop, I apparently started writing this fic back in January 2024! So if it took over a year and a half just to write this much, I don't want to get anyone's hopes up for a continuation that might take just as long or longer to write, or that might never happen at all.

So, just in case a sequel never happens, here's a vague summary for what the rest of the fic would've been about: over the years, as the rest of the Chain are born, Time, First and Warriors keep dropping their children/nephews off with Rusl to fight off the 'incarnations of hatred'. The Chain slowly grow more comfortable with Ordon until the fae no longer feel the need to use a deal to get Ordon to take care of their kids. Ordon's fear of the fae softens over time as they are forced to take care of some very strange but honestly harmless kids, to the point that their village being an unpaid babysitting service for the Fae children becomes a bit of a running joke. There's a bit of angst considering that all these kids are being targeted by monsters until they're old enough to kill their hunters themselves, instead of leaving it to their dads/older brothers/older cousins, but the fic focuses more on the shenanigans of a human village caring for a bunch of Fae kids growing into their powers.