#for those wondering | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bokettochild · 1 year

Text

Does anyone remember Violet?

Okay, how about the Nancy LU animatic? Yeah, the fic I write for that, you remember? No? Yes? It doesn't matter

I wrote a sequel >:)

The Return of "Violet"

Wind is going to owe Four big time.

Of all the things to ever happen, he, a pirate, has been caught stealing, and honestly it’s probably the most ashamed he’s felt since he was seven and put a hole in the roof of their house while playing with Aryll. In this instance though, he’s not going to have his sweet and understanding granny that he’s answering too. No, this time he has to answer to Four, and probably someone else after that, because with the way things are going, he’s going to need more than just Four’s help to get out of this one.

They’re in his era, visiting one of the islands that he and Tetra had discovered after their adventures together. That almost makes it worse though because they’re here with Tetra. After finding themselves on Dragon Roost Island he’d managed to get ahold of her through the gossip stones, and although she charges worse fees than even Ravio (as Legend had made a point of complaining about) she and her crew have agreed to let the heroes sail with them until they find whatever it is that caused them to be brought to this era. So far though, they’ve had little to no luck, and for the time being, the ship is docked here while they gather supplies and allow the land-lubbers now in their company to enjoy being on land for a short bit while Tetra and the others do… pirate-y things. That was what she said they’d be doing anyway, and the heroes, in the interest of not inviting trouble for once in their lives, hadn’t asked.

Wind knows. Usually he’d be with them, but right now he’s a hero first and a pirate second, and so he’s with the heroes instead, picking his way through the bustling market with Four while the other heroes busy themselves at stands. Currently, Legend is trying to teach Wild some form of bartering, because the champion repeatedly has been overcharged already for basic items since, apparently, in his world those prices would fly. Not in this one though, and not with Legend in their group.

Twilight’s following after them, an amused expression on his face as he sits back and lets the vet have his way with teaching the champion, shaking his head and chuckling every so often at the duo as he turns and glances back to wherever the nearest brother is and exchanging silent words with them about it all.

Time is the most frequent receiver of Twilight’s laden stares, and the old man himself likewise shakes his head with a small smile before turning back to the captain’s side as Warriors picks over a display of knives that has been laid out in one of the nearby stalls.

The market is a colourful place, beautiful too, in its own unique way. Sea-salt breezes are carried up the island cliffs to them and play around their ears and hair, sending windchimes singing and overhanging fabrics and tarps swaying. Most are tightly tied down, providing brief shade to those who step beneath their protection and into the realm of one vendor or another, who will only too happily try and cheat newcomers out of their wages and will banter and barter in loud and fast moving phrases with the more experienced buyer.

Honestly, he’s surprised that Legend’s keeping up.

Colour surrounds them. In visiting the other eras, he’s come to understand that his is one of the more bright, Twilight’s being near drained of colour in most places by comparison. Here in the market though, that fact makes itself most apparent, the overhangs woven in bright jewel tones and tents and stalls hung about with the same over handcrafted poles and tables. The wares are bright and eye-catching too, and Hyrule is currently eyeing them all in awe, as though he’s never seen such an amalgamation of items and beautiful things in his life. He has though, because all of them have had at least a peek inside Legend’s storage shed, and that was truly a sight to see, even if it wasn’t nearly as attractively presented as the stalls and tables here.

As for himself, Wind’s more looking around for anything relatively useful, but more than anything, he’s keeping his ears open for the telltale sound of bombs going off, just in case he needs to create a distraction to keep the others from investigating. That would be incredibly awkward and he’s not keen on having to answer for that particular set of crimes.

Not that he ends up having to, because by the time that the bombs do go off (because of course they do) the heroes are too busy dealing with another issue.

It’s an artefact that catches his eye. Not one from his time either, but one he remembers seeing at the Hero’s Shrine in Warriors Hyrule at the Skyview Temple. Well, it had been the Skyview Temple, back in Sky’s time, but he’s not sure what it was being called in the captain’s era. It’d become something of a hall of history to the Hylian people, and there were shrines there for the heroes of the past, set in different alcoves, and the item in question had been one laid in the one for the veteran hero himself.

It was probably the first time he’d ever found out anything about Legend. Ravio had taken one look at the shrine and started talking about each of the items and their abilities, and while he’s not entirely sure what this particular rod does, he does know that Ravio had seemed very nervous about it being left at a shrine where someone could steal it. He’d been even more nervous though when someone had stolen it. Wind’s not sure who it had been, and at the merchant’s warnings the captain had had them all search and investigate, but the war took the most of their attention and the search had to be abandoned when the enemy had started moving again.

He’s still not sure what the thing really does, but he knows it’s the same one as he remembers. It’s just too similar to what he remembers, and the sight of it causes a sinking feeling to make itself known in his stomach.

“Shit.”

“Language,” Four murmurs to him, distracted, “cap doesn’t like that kind of talk.”

Usually he’d snicker at something like that, he imagines he’s probably half the reason that joke is still running (because Four knows he’ll still be laughing) but this time he’s too distracted for that.

“Four, I have to commit a crime.”

The smithy doesn’t even startle, just turns to him with a face far too calm as green eyes search his own. “What sort?” The question is spoken as calmly and casually as if asking after a flavour of pie, but he knows, based off of the fact that Four is looking at him at all, that he’s got the smithy’s full attention.

“I need to steal something.”

“Not so loud about it,” the smithy snorts, setting a hand on one hip and side-eyeing him with a playful look, “I thought you were supposed to be a pirate. Isn’t announcing your pillaging against some code?”

“No, it’s not like that,” he catches the smithy’s wrist and tugs, and while Four stumbles just a bit, he lets himself be pulled a bit closer to the stall so Wind can point out the rod sitting innocuously amidst jewellery and fabric, like some sort of stylized cane or staff instead of a Cautious Ravio level of Dangerous Item. “I need to steal that.”

Four hums. “Okay, and you’re telling me…”

“I need your help.”

He expects some hesitation or thought, but all Four does is cock his head, stare at the item, one hand reaching to stroke his chin before aborting with a shrug. “Okay.”

He really thought Four would be more against crimes than this. Still, a partner in crime is a partner in crime (in this case literally) and Four seems to take no issue with following him over to the stall in question. He’s not sure, off the top of his head, how he plans to go about stealing the thing, but he’s a pirate and he’s good at theft, he can handle this.

As it would turn out, he does not end up needing to handle this, which turns out to be for the better, because the merchant who owns the stall watches him like a hawk. Of course theft would be a common problem in a place such as this, and apparently Wind, lanky, young, still just this side of man-hood, looks all too well the part of a troublesome youth looking to score a steal, and no matter if a customer comes to the stall or not, the man seems to keep an eye on him at all times.

Fortunately, Four, well dressed in bright jewel tones as he is, is not regarded with such distaste. If anything, the merchant motions to the smithy while speaking to a patron and points out “the cute lil’ lass” which Wind only very nearly prevents himself from laughing at.

Dark eyes trail back to him coldly at the coughing he makes while trying to avoid laughter though, but then the man is turning back to his patron. “Recken she’s some small thing from these merchant folk, her da’ll pay well for whatever catches her fancy, all these rich folks are that way; coughin’ up rupees fer what’er pleased their kids.”

With an eye on his customer and one on Wind, the merchant doesn’t have enough eyes to catch the scathing glance the smithy shoots the man’s way at hearing that.

Four would usually correct someone, but considering they’re trying to keep a low profile, the smithy blessedly keeps his mouth shut.

Wind turns back to a pile of jewellery. Absently, he wonders if he could barter a ring out of the man to provide a window for Four to stash the rod in his pack or something.

He doesn’t get the chance to try.

“Hoy there! Where do you think you’re going, lass!”

The sailor spins about just in time to see the merchant catch Four by the back of his bright tunic, and…

Oh Spirits, Four didn’t even bother to stash the rod. Is this the first time the smithy has stollen something?

In hindsight, it probably is; Four’s fame in his home era after all did start with him vanquishing pirates and dealing with thieves.

And that’s how they end up as they are. The merchant goes from laughing and smiling at the smithy to trying to twist the small hero’s arm and demanding answers about where he’s going, and- well, what was Wind supposed to do?

“Hey!” He squawks, and yes, he most certainly did overturn that display on purpose as he rushes over to his brother’s side. “Let go!”

“You’re together then,” the man hisses, narrowing his eyes, “I shoulda guessed. What respectable lass goes snoopin’ about without a guard or her mam around to watch that she ain’t taken? Thieves, the both of you!”

“We’re not thieves!” Wind protests, despite the fact that they are, in fact, thieves. Well, he is anyway. “We’re just kids!” And then, as inspiration hits, he adds, “now let my little sister go!” Oh yeah, he’s so going to owe Four one after this.

Luckily, Four doesn’t stumble once, instead squirming in the man’s hands and, somehow, managing to muster up a stream of tears as he fights weakly (as a small child would) against the hands restraining him. “Let me go!” The smithy squeaks, “I just wanted to show Mama!”

“‘Show mama’?” the man mocks, and shakes Four harder than is probably safe to shake a child, “and where’s your mama at, little miss snitch?”

“Right here.”

Wind could kiss Legend on the cheek, although he’d probably owe the vet even more if he did after the man has just stepped in to save their asses, Twilight and Wild both on his heels.

Oh crap, this is going to become another Violet situation isn’t it?

“Mum!” it bursts out of him as he darts to the vet’s side, hands catching on red fabric as he looks up at the vet as though pleading for help, and he is, he is so pleading. He is pleading so very much and genuinely, see?

No really, he really is. He really didn’t think this one through.

“We were just looking, I swear, and Violet wanted to show you something, but this mean man-”

Twilight is staring. Twilight and Wild are both starring in something between shock and confusion and Wild’s brows are very quickly disappearing under his hair as they rise higher and higher with every word out of Wind’s throat.

Oh yeah, he’s going to owe Legend big time.

“Mama!” Four wails, quite convincingly as he kicks at his captor, “make him let me go!”

For a brief moment, Wind can see the resignation and pain in Legend’s eyes, but then the vet is steeling himself and then, at the very top of his lungs (which only drives home how much like last time this will be) shouts “let go of my child, you horrid man!” in what is possibly the most hystericaly angry voice Wind has heard from anyone, never mind from the vet.

Wild chokes.

The scream, however, has what he can only assume is the intended effect, because the crowd immediately near them all whips around so fast he’s sort of shocked they don’t downright fall over, and then all eyes are on them.

Again.

Well, apparently if Legend’s going to cover up for your crimes and save your ass he’s going to do it by being as loud as possible. Honestly, Wind doesn’t care, as long as it works.

It does work. The man immediately lets go of Four, and then the smithy is all but flinging himself into the veteran’s arms, where he’s immediately caught and held while Legend once more adopts the same act as the time before, fussing and murmuring with terrifyingly believable distress as he looks at the bruising on Four’s arm and then immediately pulls the smithy closer, looking up at the merchant with fury in his eyes. “How could you do this to a child! She was only looking, she wasn’t causing any harm!”

Frosty violet eyes fix the merchant in place, and the man takes a step back at the sight of them.

Two kids causing trouble, he was prepared for. What appears to be a finely dressed young mother who perceives her child to have been attacked, he was not prepared for at all. “She was stealing!”

“She’s only eight!” Wind protests, wrapping an arm around Four’s shoulders and pouting up at the man accusingly, but also cutely because he needs to play up the role of a child right now, rather than even try and look at all serious and mature like he usually would try to.

“She’s only eight!” Legend repeats, likeways wrapping an arm around Wind. “How dare you! It’s her first time at a big market, how was she to know the rules! I’m teaching her the best I can but I can only be so many places at once!”

Past the vet’s arm, and now that the attention is on Legend and not himself, Wind can glance out and see the crowd. Eyes are fixed on them, murmurs already rising and disapproving looks being shot at the merchant even as crystal tears in amethyst eyes begin to garner sympathy and pity from the onlookers while Legend switches out the furious mother act for the overworked and struggling one.

Amidst it all, Wind can clearly see Time and Warriors, watching them. Time has the most confused expression on his face, neither privy to the events of last time or apparently aware of what’s happening now, but Warriors…

Oh gods, Warriors looks so done already.

“I don’t care how old she is, a thief is a thief!” The merchant yells, and with his words, Legend starts back, dragging Four and Wind with him and drawing the sailor’s attention back to the man before them. Said man is currently red in the face and huffing, both trying to uphold his right to punish the thieves who attempted to steal from him, but also under the judgemental stares of the whole market.

“You can’t hold a child responsible for such a silly mistake!”

“You’re right,” the man breathes, and while it almost sounds like he’s trying to contain and calm himself, Wind sees the flash of his eyes before the man steps closer and raises a hand, definitely and truly beyond reason at this point, “the parents are the ones to be held responsible.”

Legend could catch that hand. Wind could, Four could. Any one of them could do something to avoid it, but that would come at the cost of dropping the act, and while unspoken, the rule remains to never drop an act, although at what cost he’s not sure.

“Stop right there!”

Hang on, is that-? And it is.

Warriors is storming over, and it’s such a dramatic and poetic image; the captain stalking along the street, armour glistening and scarf billowing out behind, that if he wasn’t playing a part, Wind would definitely be grinning a bit at it. After all, it’s like something straight out of one of the stories he’d told Aryll when they were kids. Well, younger kids.

To the merchant however, Wind knows that’s not the case. The merchant sees the blazing blue eyes and the silver sword and he stops mid-swing, face paling as the captain comes to stand beside the three younger heroes, hand settling on Legend’s shoulder and stare stone cold. As someone who's seen that stare employed before, Wind’s honestly surprised the man doesn’t piss himself.

“Lay a hand on my family,” the captain growls, and yes, he actually growls, “and I’ll cut it off.”

Twilight whistles lowly.

Oh dang, add Warriors to the list of people he owes. This is really getting out of hand.

“Who are you?” The man stammers, stepping back but not away, gaze trailing up and across the knight and taking in sparkling armour and steely stare, sweat beading across the salesman's face with each passing second.

“Papa,” Four whimpers, and oh gosh he’s good, “I was just trying to show Mama the pretty staff…”

“I see.” Warriors doesn’t even look down to the smithy still plastered across Legend’s front, instead staring until the merchant squirms under his gaze. “What pretty staff, precious?”

Oh no. Oh Hylia, the endearments. Oh gods Wars is so going to sit him down about this. Endearments aren’t uncommon from the captain, but “precious”? Oh no, that one isn’t one he uses, and it’s a clear warning to the sailor at least that he’s going to be answering a lot of questions later.

Dang it, all this over a stupid rod!

“That one,” Four turns and points to the item lying on the ground by their feet, “I thought it looked like something Mama could use for her magic.”

Ah, yes Four, drop the fact that Legend can do magic, that’ll definitely scare the shit out of those present and hopefully convince this guy to just let the scoot. Please? Please let that work?

Except it doesn’t because Warriors recognizes the item too, and he’s bending to scoop up the troublesome rod in question even as the merchant protests and splutters.

“Ah.”

Oh yeah, someone’s screwed.

“Is that…” Legend pauses, and the act drops for a moment, however brief, as he stares at the item. His item. His thing that Ravio never explained but said was his and which now looks very, very old.

“Where did you get this?” Warriors demands, and now he really is mad. Someone threatening to hit his family is bad, but knowing Wars, he wasn’t really all that mad since he knows they can all defend themselves with ease. Stealing from a shrine? Yeah no, that’s territory even Wind isn’t willing to cross.

The merchant huffs. He’s got guts, Wind will give him that. A lesser man would have caved or run away or even just tried to snivel and plead to avoid the wrath of this odd little family and the crowd watching them, but he doesn’t, and for that Wind has to give him props. He’s got guts. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I traded for it. It’s a powerful magical rod, capable of-”

“Nothing.” Legend interjects, releasing his hold on Wind (rude) to reach for the rod in the captain’s hand, and Warriors lets him, gaze trailing down to watch the vet inspect the thing with a frown. “It’s damaged,” Legend continues, frowning as gnarled fingers trace the stone set on top, the actual source of the thing’s supposed magic. A sigh. “Violet, this was hardly worth the fuss,” the vet frowns and hands the item off, casually, to the captain.

Warriors holds it, scowling. “Probably best if we didn't buy it then, love. Besides, it being stolen from a shrine, Hylia only knows what sort of curses the gods would have put on it.”

Oh. Oh yes. Wind is very near smiling, but doesn’t even as he watches his older brothers play it out perfectly, not a word passed between to communicate, not even a look, but picking up the threads the other lays with all the skill of the most masterful weaver of lies, and it’s working too. While the heroes look at each other in confusion, and Twilight is sort of smirking in that utterly lost and confused but also humored way he does, the merchant is quickly paling again.

“Cursed?”

“Of course,” Legend scoffs, straightening up but not shaking off the arm Warriors still has about his shoulders, “anything stolen from a shrine would be cursed. The souls of the dead never take kindly to people disrespecting them so blatantly.”

“But I didn’t steal it!” The man protests.

The vet sniffs, tossing his head and looking down his nose at the man, even as the captain follows his lead and likewise stares the man down with all the revulsion one would assume someone married to a great mage might have. “That hardly matters, sir. Frankly, anyone who disrespects such a sacred thing, be it in sale or theft, is simply begging suffering on themselves, and I’m hardly inclined to wish that upon my children.” Violet eyes then turn to them, and both he and Four can feel the weight and warning in them as Legend stares, not dropping the act but also not entirely acting anymore. “Which is why I’ll be sure to make sure this never happens again.”

It won’t.

“All the same, love,” Warriors murmurs, and there’s a step made, and they pulled along, “it’s likely best if we finish our business as soon as possible. I’d rather we head back to the ship and leave port before whatever bad fortune that thing is cursed with reveals itself.” He shakes his head, staring at the item even as the vet takes his lead and starts ushering both younger heroes away. “They say that shrine was one for a goddess’ son, so I can only imagine how that will play out.”

The weight of their words seems to hit as the captain makes a turn, and while Wind can’t see it, he can definitely hear the feet pattering after them and the man calling out, now suddenly closer. It makes him stop and try to peek around Legend, who sighs but follows his lead to look as the man thrusts the rod in question at their captain. “Please! If you know where it’s from, send it back! Maybe the spirits will forgive me if I restore what was taken from them. Please sir!”

“After you attacked my wife and child?” And Warriors definitely learned that haughty, contemptuous voice from all the balls and dealings with nobles he’s suffered through after the war, “I don’t think so.”

“But you know where it came from!” The man tries, “I don’t!”

“Darling,” and the word almost grates off of Legend’s lips, hand coming to settle in the crook of the captain’s arm.

Wind is going to owe Legend the best freaking thing ever, although what, he’s not sure, since Legend has everything already.

“Perhaps we should help.”

“Someone like this?” He has no clue why Warriors is making this harder than it has to be, and with the attention of all others on the captain and vet, he and Four exchange a quick glance of confusion.

“Think of all the innocent people this fool has endangered,” Legend continues, still glaring at the man and item in question. “We can’t let his greed and foolishness cause their demise! Such a thing would surely disrupt the spirits even further.”

Ah yes, the warning of a mage. It sets the people about them fussing and worrying, until there are others stepping out from the crowd and begging until at last Warriors 'concedes’ and accepts the rod, which is quickly handed back to its original owner and stashed away in the vet’s bag.

That should be the end of it, but like last time, it’s not. Because people.

Wind really loves people most times, but right now he’d rather they just… not. He’d rather they not watch, or worry, or fuss. He’d rather not, but he’s sure that even if they didn’t, Legend would still be catching Four’s hand as they walk and Warriors would still be setting a hand on his shoulder that is heavy, oh so very heavy.

He’d also rather they not because when he sees Tetra staring at him from within the crowd, face red with unreleased laughter, he can’t do anything about it except keep his head down and silently bemoan the loss of whatever sort of respect he may have gained among his fellow pirates.

He botched a simple theft. He had to be rescued by a soldier and a teenage boy in a dress pretending to be his mother.

He is never going to live this down.

“At least,” Four murmurs, once they’ve moved to the edge of the market, finished with their shopping and with the eyes of the others all trailing after them with innumerable questions, “I got to be older this time.”

Legend sighs, releasing the smithy’s hand to rub at his temples, figure blocked by the captain’s own and thus out of sight of the market behind them. “Oy vey, you two.”

“We owe you guys big time,” he tries.

Warriors snorts, grip tightening on his shoulder. “You owe us an explanation, but yeah, big time, sailor.”

Ahead, the ship is waiting, Tetra leaning against the bulwarks and smirking down at him with danger in her eyes and laughter already touching her lips, and Wind sighs.

This is never going to go away.

He kind of regrets teasing Legend now for last time.

209 notes · View notes