Work Text:
I dug my heels into the gravel
as evidence for you to unravel
A drag path etched in the surface
Can you find me?
- Twenty One Pilots
°•. ✿ .•°
Link wakes up alone—only clues left behind: a Slate housing locked information and a flower inked on the inside of his left wrist. He’s so busy trying to figure out the who-where-why of this strange place, that he only notices the latter when its shine becomes impossible to miss. The flower's outline glows a bright crystal blue when she tells him his name—Link—before it fades back into light blue ink. He runs a hand over it, notes how the image is static but the ink isn’t, a soft shimmering only noticeable when he stares at it.
He shakes himself out of it, following the instructions he’s been given, and when he leaves the cave he was reborn in, he doesn’t look back. Instead, Link looks out at the world around him, the way it stretches endlessly in every direction and breathes.
His mark doesn’t glow again until the first blood moon and while he has bigger problems to deal with then, he appreciates the warning regardless.
The memories return out of order, like puzzle pieces that share the same pattern but refuse to fit together. It’s disorienting, and frustrating, and unfathomably tiring.
Looking back, it’s about halfway through Link's quest to find her—Zelda, Hyrule's long lost princess he had sworn to protect—that he finally regains the missing context for the flower on his wrist. Well, context for the what, at least, but still not the why.
Regardless, it's when Link's passing through Kara Kara Bazaar on his way back to the Gerudo Canyon Stable that he remembers; there one moment and stepping right into a memory the next. The flower’s already inked on his wrist, petals peeking out from underneath his arm brace and visible as he raises his sword against the Yiga that dared to lay a hand on the princess.
The fight is over in moments and when he turns back to Zelda, offering her his hand and apologizing for not finding her sooner, he finds her staring back at him with wide-eyes. Still, Zelda accepts the help and it’s when she’s back on her feet that she finally looks away, rolling her sleeve up to reveal the new mark underneath. It’s a flower he doesn’t recognize, glowing a brilliant orange as it settles on her skin. They’re still standing like that, frozen in awe, as the memory fades. In the present, Link trips over his feet, falling to the desert sand, and wraps a hand around his arm. It’s another clue to the mystery he’s trying to unravel.
So, Link now has the beginnings of an answer to a question he doesn’t know how to ask. It's when he returns back to Kakariko village to rest and restock his supplies that he finally caves. He avoids Impa, doesn’t need to hear again the urgency in which he needs to rescue Zelda. As if he could ever forget.
Rather, Link seeks out Paya, counting on her knowledge of Impa's teachings to help fill in the blanks. Luckily, finding her isn't difficult; he's stepping out of the general store when he spots her polishing the offering statues nearby. Link helps Paya finish the chore quietly, but stops her as she prepares to leave, the task now complete.
“Do you know what this means?” Link asks her, heart on his sleeve and wrist held out to show her the flower there.
Paya pauses for just a moment, reaching towards him, before he nods and she takes his arm in both hands, examining the flower.
"I know it's a silent princess, but—" Link tilts his head, starting over, "I remember Zelda has a matching one, just with a different flower. But…it's as though it just appeared one day? Do you know why?"
Paya nods in acknowledgement, gently letting go of his arm, "I do know," she says, "Come, I'll show you the texts."
She does, leading Link up the stairs and into the library, handing him an old, worn book.
Paya settles down close by, opening up a different book to read while still remaining available to answer any questions Link may have. He's grateful for her help, understanding the ancient text is complicated and tiring, the Old Hylian language sharing few similarities with the modern language. Still, with the help of a key and Paya's knowledge, he gets his answer.
There’s a legend that predates even Hylia in Hyrule. The story goes that when the time comes wherein a great evil shall rise, it is destined that two shall rise above the rest in defense of their land. They shall guard it valiantly, overcome all manners trials and horrors, and all measures of despair. And in doing so, they will face a great many ordeals, but they shall not face them alone. Thusly, as it is written, there shall be a reminder of this bond—of the trust shared between these heroes, hard-fought and well-earned—a mark unlike any other, permanent and symbolic of trust immeasurable.
The knowledge doesn't help, though, and the loneliness gets harder to bear with every passing day.
◦｡ ✦ ｡◦
Link meets the wolf two blood moons later.
It's mid-battle and Link thinks the wolf's appearance means nothing more than another enemy to fight, but then the wolf is leaping past him, instead latching onto a bokoblin that had been approaching Link from behind. He chooses to accept the help, rare as it is, and doesn't question it. At the end of the battle, Link tosses the wolf the deer meat the monsters had been cooking in thanks.
The wolf approaches the offering tentatively, moving forward to grab it before backing away just far enough to remain out of Link's reach. Despite this, he stays, following Link when he moves on to the next monster camp.
Link decides to call him Wolfie after a particularly difficult fight. They barely make it out unscathed, but it's a long, hard-won fight that leaves them both sprawled on the ground when it finally ends. Link stays lying there for a while, just catching his breath as the adrenaline fades. He reaches out then, blindly patting the ground until he finds the wolf's flank.
"Good work, Wolfie," Link says, eyes closed, and the wolf huffs.
"Was that a yes to the name, then?" He asks, opening an eye when he feels the wolf's cold nose against his cheek.
When Link gets a proper look at him, Wolfie's tail is wagging and he takes it to be the wolf's version of "yes."
That evening—after they've moved out and Link is pulling out a pre-made meal from the Slate and heating it over the fire—he watches Wolfie settle down nearby and takes a moment to really study him. Link has always known there was more to Wolfie, though to what extent he couldn't say. He's different, though, and not just because he's unlike any wolf that Link has encountered. There are the blue rings through his ears, the shackled paw, and those eyes that seem to see through Link, straight to his center. He reminds Link of the Lord of the Mountain, but unlike that spirit, Wolfie stays.
Any hope that such a draining day would mean a restful night evaporates as soon as Link's head is hitting the bedroll and he's falling right down into a memory.
It's the same place they are now, on the western edge of Eldin Canyon, but when Link looks to the side, it's not Wolfie he's face-to-face with, but Zelda.
The memory ends too quickly, with him looking down at his wrist; the Silent Princess glowing that same soft blue. He wants to stay here, is desperate to, but the memory doesn't care.
Link wakes up gasping, clawing at his useless chest, breathing too quick and too shallow, when he feels Wolfie press against him. He pushes his head under Link's hands, gentle but insistent, and Link collapses against him without hesitation, arms wrapping around the wolf.
He works to match Wolfie's slow, purposeful breathing, in and out, and slowly starts to feel human again.
Link falls asleep like that, arms wrapped around Wolfie, exhausted but not alone.
The next morning there's a new mark just underneath Zelda's silent princess: at first glance it looks almost like a shooting star or the runes that he remembers Zelda had been studying before the Calamity. He recognizes it, though, it's the first thing he saw when he woke up, a clear mirror of the mark on Wolfie's head.
◦｡< ✦ >｡◦
Something about Twilight makes Wild—and isn't it strange to answer to that now—feel safe even before they really start getting to know each other. He's gentle without being condescending and has the type of kindness Wild can tell is a purposeful choice.
He finds himself drawn to the rancher when they settle down in the evenings and walking beside him as they move from place to place.
Wild gets along with the others, of course—though some take longer to relate to than others—but Twilight is a constant, and Wild gladly stays in his orbit.
There's something about him though, that feels familiar to Wild and it's not until mid-battle that he understands why.
They've been drawn away from the others and slowly but surely the monsters are working to further seperate the two of them from each other. It's bad enough that Wild's left fighting close range with only a royal bow in his hands, the last thing he needs is to be completely cut off from all of his allies.
Wild ducks to the side, narrowly avoiding the downward swing of a moblin's spear—one of the monsters from Sky's era—as he spins to the left. The move grants him the moment he needs to search the field for Twilight, who's facing off against one of Wild's moblins. Wild finds him easily but can't help burst of anxiety that follows the realization of how far he's been pushed away.
Wild swings back in time to counter another attack from the moblin beside him. He can't stand having to wait for an opening, but the moblin has him pinned against the treeline, unable to create enough space to draw an arrow or grab a sword from his Slate.
He's realizing too late the mess he's landed himself in, back hitting the tree behind him as the moblin starts to draw its arm back for a forward strike. With nowhere to go, Wild can only brace himself.
He closes his eyes waiting for the hit to land only to open them in shock at the sound of a howl. The moblin turns to the side and Wild takes the chance to roll out of the monster's range.
He lands on his feet just in time to see Wolfie—it has to be Wolfie, no other wolf has markings like that. He'd know, he sees them on his arm every day.
Wolfie runs straight at the monster that had cornered Wild, leaping forward to vault himself over the moblin's shield.
And then, in the blink of an eye, it's Twilight.
Twilight, in the place Wolfie had just been.
Twilight, driving his sword straight through the moblin, landing on his feet as the dust settles.
Twilight.
"Are you okay?" he asks Wild, who's frozen in place. It's probably rude to stare, but what other response could there possibly be?
"Wild?" Twilight moves forward and Wild takes a step back.
He somehow finds his voice, hollow though it may be, and says, "You're Wolfie."
Twilight stops in his tracks, "I—yes," he pales, "You didn't know."
Wild can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, reaching up to grab his hair in shock, "No?"
They stay like that, standing still as though waiting for the other to make the first move until the rustling of the bushes heralds another's arrival.
"Twilight, Wild?" It's Time that steps out of the undergrowth, "Are you two alright?"
He stops mid-step as he recognizes the state of the atmosphere he's just walked into.
"Am I interrupting something?" he says lightly, looking between the two of them.
"He, uh, didn't know," Twilight says, a non-answer that Time seems to understand regardless. It only serves to frustrate Wild more when the elder hero looks at Wild with some mix between sympathy and curiosity.
Wild can't stand being looked at like that, so he shuts down instead, dropping his hand back to his side and taking a deep breath.
"Thank you for the help," Wild tells Twilight, before walking past Time, "We should get back to the others."
"Wild—" Time calls and Wild shakes his head. He can't have this conversation now; he wouldn't even know where to start.
One thing at a time, is all he can remind himself. He just needs to make it back to the others for now. Wild can hear Time and Twilight trailing behind him but he doesn't turn, keeping his eyes forward.
The walk back to the other heroes is quiet despite the murmured conversation he hears between Time and Twilight as they walk behind him. He can't be bothered trying to listen in; mind too busy swirling through the implications that this reveal has led to.
Just how much of Wild's journey does Twilight know about? Had he chosen to help Wild?And the one his mind keeps circling back to: All that time Wolfie had been by his side and not once had Twilight ever revealed himself. Why? And what did Twilight mean by saying Wild hadn't known? It's not as if Wild had ever said anything about the two being one in the same.
He'd mentioned Wolfie, sure, and of course he'd been overjoyed to see his wolf companion again. All that said and done though, Twilight had never given him any indication that he was Wolfie.
Or had he? There were things that added up now—Twilight never being in the same place as Wolfie, the flash of a mark seen beneath overgrown bangs. Wild finds himself resting a hand over his own mark, now sure of what had been standing plain as day before him this entire time. That doesn't even mention the fact that he'd never stopped to consider the fact that Wolfie being here was anything more than sheer dumb luck. In Wild's defense, he was used to Wolfie coming and going and he'd known there was more to the wolf, but—Hylia, he might be stupid.
When they regroup with the others—everyone accounted for and without major injuries—and start setting up camp, Wild pulls Sky to the side before either of his mentors can suggest helping him cook.
Thankfully, Sky says nothing beyond raising a brow that Wild chooses to ignore, instead askingm, "Help me cook?"
"Yeah, of course, but—" Sky cuts himself off when Wild clenches his jaw and shakes his head.
"Before you two start, can I talk with you, Wild?" Well, there goes that plan.
Wild exhales forcefully, seeing Sky look at him with something akin to concern.
"I'll be back in a minute," he tells Sky when it looks like the other hero is about to say something. As much as Wild appreciates it, the last thing this situation needs is an argument between he and Time. It's already messy enough.
When Wild crosses the camp and heads to the nearby river, Time follows after him.
Wild doesn't want to speak first but Time seems content to just sit together in silence until he does and Wild's impatient on a good day.
"I'm assuming you know, then," Wild finally says.
"About the fact that Twilight can transform into a giant wolf?" Time smiles and Wild just glares over at him, he really doesn't find this funny at all.
Time clears his throat, "You know Twilight is my descendant, yes?"
Wild stands and throws his hands up in the air, "Hylia, can people stop assuming I just know everything? How could I possibly know that? I'm historically bad at knowing things, I know you know this."
"You're right, I shouldn't have assumed, I'm sorry," Time says, holding up his hands in surrender, "During Twilight's quest he was trained by a Shade and after we all met, he recognized its armor as my own."
Wild exhales, sitting back down next to Time, "So you trained him?"
Time waves his hand in a so-so gesture, "A version of myself far into the future. When we all began to meet, I could tell he recognized something when he looked at me. In hindsight, I should've asked him about it."
"But if you didn't recognize him, how did you know about Wolfie?" Wild asks, drawing his knees to his chest and turning to meet Time's gaze.
"Same reason you do, I suspect. He assumed I knew and transformed in front of me."
"Were you angry?"
"Hmm. No, but I was concerned," Time answers and Wild looks away.
Wild watches the ripples in the water from falling leaves as he tries to gather his thoughts. "You said a version of yourself was in Twilight's time," it's not a question so he doesn't wait for an answer, "Wolfie was in mine."
Time hums in acknowledgement, "It's not wrong to be upset, but you can't avoid him forever. You'll have to speak to him sometime."
"I know," Wild says, listening as Time stands up and stretches.
"Shall I tell Sky you'll be back soon?"
Wild nods and when he looks up at Time it seems like the hero wants to say something, but decides not to, instead nodding back at him before turning towards to the camp.
Wild manages to play a very elaborate game of keep-away throughout dinner, but he can't do anything when Twilight volunteers them both for the first watch. The rest of their group is already picking up on the tension that cloaks he and Twilight, the last thing he needs is for them to know what's actually going on.
So he bites his tongue, busying himself with cleaning up while the others settle down around the camp. He can't delay forever, though, and Wild knows he's run out of time when he looks up and sees Twilight standing over him, arms crossed.
Wild sighs in a way that's only a little dramatic, patting the space next to him on the log that someone had dragged to the campfire.
Twilight sits beside him like he's waiting to be pushed off, a fact that makes Wild bristle, "I'm not angry."
At Twilight's incredulous look, Wild corrects himself, "Okay, I don't know what I feel. I just want to know the truth."
When the silence stretches on, Wild takes it as a sign to keep talking, "Time told me how he found out about Wolfie."
Twilight nods, "I thought he knew, same as you."
"Well, I didn't," Wild says.
"Yeah, I'm realizing that," Twilight huffs, tossing a hand in the air.
Wild reaches out to grab Twilight's arm when it drops back down, messing with his wrist guard.
"I met Wolfie on my journey. In a lot of ways he was my only companion," Wild starts, feeling Twilight clench his hand into a fist, "Do you have any memories of that?"
"No," Twilight answers honestly, "I'm sorry."
Wild shakes his head, "I'm telling you this because I was angry after your reveal. I thought you'd lied to me all this time."
Twilight exhales, "You recognized me when I was transformed. I thought you knew."
"I know."
"I don't regret transforming to stop you from gettin' hurt, but—" Twilight pauses, gathering his thoughts. "It's a real rotten thing, the hiding; it feels like I'm lying to y'all everyday, but I've had enough bad reactions to last a lifetime, didn't wanna risk another. That's why I didn't just tell you."
"I'm sorry," Wild says.
Twilight just shrugs, "I know what I am and I wouldn't change it if I could, but I also know why people get scared."
"I was never scared," Wild says, "you're about as harmful as a butterfly to the people you care about."
Twilight rolls his eyes but lets it go. "I want to thank you," he says instead.
At Wild's raised brow Twilight shakes his head, "You could've told the others, raised hell."
"I'd like to think you'd know me well enough to realize I wouldn't."
"Yeah, well, in my experience, learning about it usually means all bets are off."
When Twilight draws his hand back, Wild takes a look around the camp before untying his own braces, "Look," he tells his brother, "I got this during my journey."
Wild twists in his direction as Twilight reaches out for his hand, drawing it over his lap. He traces the mark there reverently.
As he does, Wild looks back at it, and twists it so it's clearer in the firelight, "Huh, that's new."
At Twilight's questioning look Wild adds, "That diamond was there, but not these," he says, pointing at the two new marks that had appeared below and beside the original mark, bracketing it.
"Well it's complete now," Twilight hums, before using his free hand to push back his bangs. Wild looks, though he doesn't need to, he already knows what he'll see.
He reaches out anyway, brushing his hand over the mark, and Twilight leans into the touch before pulling back and undoing the straps of his bracer.
"Huh," He says, turning his arm over to Wild.
On his arm, a new mark sits, still glowing a light orange, soft like the sunset.
It's a mirror of the fabric draped across Wild's lap, the up-down pattern he looks at every day as he wraps his wrist guards. The sight makes his eyes burn, his sister had embroidered it for him. He'd regained that memory during his journey and recalled it every day. It was a gift following his assignment as Zelda's personal guard, an event that coincided with the start of Aryll's embroidery lessons.
Twilight has no way of knowing its significance, but to Wild it's everything. And who better to have this mark than Twilight, an older brother who would understand.
Wild holds the fabric of his wrist wrappings out to Twilight and he takes them hesitantly, holding them beside his arm.
"I never knew it was embroidered," Twilight says, thumb brushing over the needlework.
"My sister made it," Wild answers simply.
Twilight looks back up at him, "Then I'm honored to carry it, too."
Wild smiles, glad that Twilight isn't asking for the full story. He'll share it one day, but today has felt years long instead of hours. He's exhausted in a way that has little to do with the physical.
Twilight seems to understand, motioning for Wild to lean against his side.
When he hesitates, Twilight says, "I'll wake you up if anything happens," he pauses, then points at his ears, adding, "Heightened senses, remember. I'll keep y'all safe."
"I know you will," Wild says honestly and without hesitation, "I just don't want to abandon you."
Twilight scoffs, "Unless you're planning to run the second I turn around you ain't abandoning anyone. Go get your bedroll."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Wild says, giving him a mock salute and laughing when Twilight pushes him up so he can summon his bedroll from the Slate.
He settles back down, leaning against the log.
"You'll hurt your back lying there like that," Twilight scolds, shoving his pelt behind Wild's head so he has something to lean against.
"Will hurt a whole lot more if someone keeps talking and I'm sleep deprived the next battle," Wild says, though he leans against the pelt happily.
"The hell happened to you not wantin' to abandon me, huh?" Twilight laughs, ruffling Wild's hair and avoiding the swat Wild directs his way.
Wild chooses to ignore him, instead turning to curl up against the pelt, his foot resting against Twilight's when he finally settles.
"S'okay," is the last thing he hears Twilight say, "I've got you."